Hello from Budapest!
Though not for long, as I'm leaving for the airport in half an hour to go to Düsseldorf, Germany for FedCon. XD It's a sci-fi convention, where Claudia Black (Aeryn Sun in Farscape), Ben Browder (John Crichton in Farscape), and John Barrowman (Jack Harkness in Torchwood) will be. I'm super excited, though incredibly sleep-deprived, lol.
Budapest welcomed me with loads of problems; the water heater in my parents' bathroom isn't working, and apparently only the manufacturer can fix it because only their technicians are allowed access to the parts... And since I'm here alone (parents won't be coming till June/July), I get the headache of dealing with it. XD
So thanks for your reviews, favorites, and follows; they've cheered me up!
3insteinComplex: I'm flattered! Yes, loads of inspiration, though perhaps not the kind you expected? The last line in chapter 13 is indeed prophetic. XD
Abyss Prime: Thank you!
FleurSuoh: Updated. :)
Kat7CA: I had Thorin+Talaitha feels as I was writing those parts, too! Thank you. :)
Just4Me: Don't we all? :D
LianaDare8: Somehow I don't think you're joking. XD Makeout session coming soon...maybe.
KillerKadoogan: That "Talaitha calming Thorin moment with a touch" actually came from Robin Hood, when Marian does the same to Guy of Gisborne (played by Richard Armitage); I watched it before writing the chapter. XD I enjoyed writing that chapter way too much because of the humor and fuzzy feels. :)
Naomi: Hi! Sorry about naked Gandalf...but he was actually clothed in my mind by then, since he was smoking his pipe on a rock. It'd be weird if he did that naked. XD
MoonCrown: Fluff is fun! And you're partly right about Thorin's jealousy, as this chapter will show. :)
About this chapter:
1. Mirkwood. Was. A. Bitch. To. Write
2. No fluff. And I mean none. I was in a bad mood because I'd left problems in Florida only to be greeted with new problems in Budapest. This chapter was a way to vent my frustrations, and I feel better now. XD But poor, poor Talarin.
3. Somewhere in there is the word "Nemerean." It just means "from Nemere."
4. Talaitha's bow (described in the chapter) is a based off an ancient Scythian (present-day Iran) bow. Pictures are on my profile.
Anyway, I kind of apologize in advance for the angst in this chapter, but it was therapeutic and even fun to write. So enjoy?
Disclaimer: By now, I probably don't even own Talaitha.
Chapter 14: One Step Forward, Two Steps Back
A door slammed.
Talaitha jolted awake with the rest of the Company, looking for the source of the noise. They didn't have to search long, for he knelt by the platform and regarded them with amusement.
"So, here you are still." Beorn plucked Bilbo out of bed, laughing at the hobbit's disgruntled mumblings.
Had it not been dawn, perhaps the dwarves would have chuckled, too, but they merely yawned and rubbed the last remnants of sleep from their eyes. All except Thorin, who was already out of bed and standing almost protectively beside Bilbo.
Beorn winked. "I'm glad to see you weren't eaten by wargs or goblins or wicked bears."
"Did you learn anything while you were away?" Gandalf asked.
"Oh yes. For one, that your thrilling tale is true," the skin-changer replied. "And that the goblins are furious because you killed their king. They have joined with the Pale Orc to hunt you all."
Thorin grimaced, his gaze meeting the wizard's. If the Company encountered Azog again, not even giant eagles could save them this time, for goblins would reach them no matter where they hid. Bilbo swallowed hard when he came to the same conclusion. In fact, all the dwarves looked grim. Talaitha was the only one who seemed unaffected by Beorn's news; she appeared to be deep in thought.
Beorn invited them to breakfast in the garden. "You must forgive me for not believing your story, but if you, too, lived near the borders of Mirkwood, you would trust no one you didn't know as well as or better than your brother." Then he was cheerful again. "If our meeting has taught me one thing, it's to look more kindly on dwarves. Killed the Great Goblin indeed!"
No one, not even the wizard, felt the need to point out that it was actually Gandalf who had slain the goblin king. The dwarves had earned the skin-changer's respect and trust; it would be foolish to risk jeopardizing that by correcting his assumption.
"How did you learn all this?" Bilbo asked.
"I captured one of the goblins, who, after a bit of persuasion, decided to tell me." Beorn smirked, though something feral glinted in his brown eyes.
"Mirkwood," Talaitha said suddenly, garnering confused looks from the dwarves. "If we go through Mirkwood, the goblins and orcs won't follow."
"Absolutely not," Thorin growled.
But Talaitha wasn't deterred. "They don't like elves, so they'll avoid the forest."
"Make no mistake, young fairy," Beorn cautioned. "The Green Wood is no more. You would be trading one threat for another."
"Yes, but there's also a chance that the elves would aid us," she replied. "I know them, which would work in our favor."
Even before Talaitha looked at Thorin, she could feel the sting of his glare. She was tempted to roll her eyes, but that would have been disrespectful, especially in front of his kin. So she settled for a barely audible sigh.
Mercifully, Gandalf rescued Talaitha from the dwarf king's ire. "Even without the elves' help, Mirkwood seems your best option, for it is quickest." He paused. "Or at least it was last I traveled through it."
Thorin's glare softened as he considered the wizard's words. Durin's Day was only a month and a half away; they didn't have time to go around the forest. He bit back a curse, looking as though he'd eaten something bitter.
"We go through Mirkwood."
"Then you shall need all the help I can offer," said Beorn, all humor gone.
#
After breakfast, the skin-changer gave Talaitha a satchel of plants, many of them Nemerean, to restock her healing supplies. He also put three jars of his honey into her bag. For the rest of the Company, he packed enough food to last them weeks, hardy, energy-rich foods such as twice-baked cakes, dried fruit, and nuts. The dwarves appreciated Beorn's help, of course, but how they longed for meat!
The Company followed the skin-changer outside, where he led out fifteen ponies and a horse for Gandalf. Bilbo stared uneasily at the goblin's head impaled on one of the front gate's spikes. At least now he didn't have to ask what Beorn had done with his informant. The trophy had quite the opposite effect on Thorin, who regarded their host with a newfound respect.
"Here are some bows and arrows, though I doubt you will find anything wholesome enough to hunt."
As Beorn was about to hand Talaitha a bow, he noticed one was already strapped to her back. "A szelemér bow!" he exclaimed. "It is long since I have seen one so beautiful."
And it was beautiful, with its sinuous recurve shape and ornately-painted designs of mythical creatures in blue and gold. Talaitha nodded her head in thanks and accepted the proffered arrows, for she'd lost hers in the goblin cave.
"You are in good company, for the fairies are as skilled with a bow as the elves."
Talaitha's head snapped up in Thorin's direction, dreading his reaction to Beorn's words. The dwarf king did not disappoint; a fierce scowl accompanied the hatred in his eyes-not hatred for Talaitha but for being reminded of her shared ancestry with elves. If he thought about it too long, her elf-like features irked him, for even now, he was glaring disdainfully at her pointed ears.
The szelemér girl averted her gaze and tried to blink away the tears, but despite her efforts, one hot tear slid down her cheek, though thankfully no one saw. The tension, however, was noticed, and Beorn awkwardly cleared his throat.
"Your way through Mirkwood will be dark, dangerous, and difficult. Water is scarce, and streams are often malevolent, particularly the black one that crosses your path. Do not touch its waters in any way, for it will make you sleep and forget."
As the Company climbed into their saddles, Beorn offered one final, important piece of advice.
"Stray not from the path, or it will be your doom." Then all somberness vanished, and he grinned. "When you reach the forest gate, send back my horse and ponies. I wish you all every manner of luck and speed, and my house is open to you if ever you are in these parts again." He looked pointedly at the fairy, who acknowledged his invitation with a smile, forced though it was.
And then they were off, trotting farther away from the safety of Beorn's home and closer to Smaug. Talaitha's heart tightened with fear-not of the dragon or the twisted creatures that dwelled in Mirkwood.
Of the dwarf king who rode beside the wizard.
#
By evening, the Company skirted the goblins' mountain. They rode in silence, partly to avoid the foul things and partly because they were too sullen for conversation. Even Talaitha, who was normally quite cheerful, sulked in her saddle, which troubled Bilbo. He couldn't even ask her why, for when he whispered to her, she quieted him with a glare.
When dusk fell, they made camp by a stream but didn't dare build a fire. Talaitha volunteered to take the first watch, since she was too restless to sleep, and sat against a tree, huddled in her cloak, staring out into the black forest. An owl perched on a branch, hooting periodically, before unfurling its wings and flying away. No other animals stirred.
Halfway through her watch, she heard footsteps approaching and tensed, her hand clutching Ezüstlélek's hilt. But it was just Thorin who sat down beside her. Neither said anything for minutes; the only sounds were the breeze in the trees, the dwarves' snores, and the slight hitch in Talaitha's breathing as she shivered. Thorin made no move to warm her.
"You should be asleep," said the fairy.
Thorin ignored her words. "You must know Thranduil very well if you believe your presence amongst us will elicit a kind welcome."
"I do," she replied neutrally. "Not nearly as well as Elrond, but well enough to anticipate his greeting towards me."
She didn't have to see Thorin's face to discern his sneer, for it colored his voice. "I suppose you look enough like an elf to earn their friendship."
He waited for a response, for something to goad her into an argument so he could vent his frustrations. But she was silent, and that prompted him to say something he would later regret.
"And perhaps even more."
The slap to his cheek was an ugly surprise in the darkness. "How did you...?" he asked, grabbing her wrist before she could pull away.
"Like I said," she spat. "The szelemér were created from elves, so we have superior eyesight to dwarves."
That was a dangerous thing to say, for Thorin was already angry. Now he yanked Talaitha closer and gripped her other wrist before she could hit him again. She struggled against him, but he held her firmly.
"Why do you insist on reminding me of that fact?" he snarled, though something akin to desperation laced his tone.
"Because I am proud of my ancestry," she answered. "And you didn't seem to mind it when you kissed me."
His hold on her arms loosened as he remembered how soft and sweet her lips had been against his, how endearingly she'd blushed after their first kiss. Those thoughts were quickly replaced by the memory of her pointed ears, and his grip tightened. But whatever cruel remark he'd planned died in his throat when he felt her take a deep, shaky breath.
"But I guess you won't be doing that again," she whispered, and he knew a tear had slid down her cheek. "Now that you've insinuated I'm nothing more than an elf's whore."
Her accusation stung worse than the slap to his cheek, and this time when she tried to pull away, he let her, his arms dropping limply to his sides. He heard her stand and walk towards the group, trying to quiet her sobs.
Thorin Oakenshield sat against the tree for the remainder of the night, not bothering to wake Dwalin for his watch. An internal battle silently raged, making his heart simultaneously ache for and turn cold towards the fairy.
#
The bright morning did nothing to soothe the tension between Talaitha and Thorin, who rode on opposite ends of the procession; Talaitha was beside Bilbo near the back, while Thorin led with Gandalf. The wizard had noticed their sudden emotional and physical distance, and he suspected its cause was Thorin's jealousy of Talaitha's easy friendships with the elves, and now with Beorn. He hoped that by the time the Company encountered the elves, the two would be reconciled, for if the elves sensed the tension between Talaitha and Thorin, the dwarves would be treated less kindly.
Bilbo, too, had deduced the reason for their rift, but fortunately none of the others had. They attributed the avoidance to the grim mood that had settled over the Company as they neared Mirkwood. And when Thorin periodically glanced back, they thought he was just making sure everyone was accounted for.
They decided to push on through the night, since they were near. Sometime after midnight, the shadowy form of a great bear prowled amongst the trees, keeping pace with the Company. Talaitha shifted in her saddle as the bear rose on its hind legs, seemingly staring right at them.
"I think he's watching out for us," she said softly, but most of the group heard her in the silent night.
"Or stalking us like prey," Glóin muttered.
#
On the fourth day, the land began to slope upward, and the birds had stopped chirping. By afternoon, they'd reached the gate of Mirkwood, beyond which they could see huge, ugly trees with dark leaves and gnarled branches.
"And so we've arrived," said Gandalf. His cheerful tone was misplaced in the gloom of the impending forest. "This is where I leave you. I'm sure we'll meet again before all this is over, but then again, we may not. That depends on your luck, courage, and sense." He looked meaningfully at Bilbo, Thorin, and Talaitha.
"I wish you were coming with us," lamented the hobbit. The fairy silently agreed.
"As do I, if only to see you safely to the other side," Gandalf replied.
When Talaitha walked over to the wizard, he dismounted. Crouching, he embraced her and smiled fondly as she kissed his cheek.
"Stay safe, Szürkevándorló."
"You, too, my dear," Gandalf replied, then whispered in her ear, "Give him time."
Her look of surprise was the last thing he saw as he turned his horse around and galloped back towards Beorn's house. Talaitha watched until he was nothing more than a gray dot, then helped unpack the ponies, before they, too, returned home.
The bags were distributed as fairly as possible, though the dwarves insisted Bilbo and Talaitha carry the two lightest. Talaitha didn't bother protesting, and she silenced Bilbo when he tried. An argument would just delay them, and the sooner they entered Mirkwood, the sooner they'd be out of it.
As they stood by the gate, peering into the sinister forest, Bilbo balked. "Do we really have to go in there?"
"It's too late to turn back. There's nothing for it now." Bofur clapped him on the shoulder.
"No, no, that's not what I meant," the hobbit corrected. "I meant is there no convenient path around it?"
"Gandalf said going through Mirkwood is quickest," said Talaitha. "Besides, if you went around it, you'd encounter the Grey Mountains, which are rife with goblins and orcs."
"Wood elves are hardly better," Thorin murmured.
"Then try your luck with the orc-kind," she said, the slight edge to her voice belying her neutral expression.
When none of the dwarves moved, Talaitha pushed open the gate and strode into the forest, suppressing the chill that ran down her spine as the oppressive shadows bore down upon her. Reluctantly, and somewhat ashamedly because a woman was braver than they, the rest of the Company followed, and they walked single-file on the narrow path. The canopy of trees was so dense that sunlight barely filtered through it, and the deeper they delved, the more sickly the forest appeared. Then they encountered the reddish trees that oozed a thick, black sap.
"Something has poisoned them," Talaitha breathed in shock. Before anyone could stop her, she leaned over the edge of the path and touched the nearest red tree's trunk, careful to avoid the sap. "Yet they do not die."
Her ominous tone sent shivers down Bilbo's spine, and the dwarves glanced uneasily at the trees. They quickened their pace and only relaxed once they'd left the eerie trees behind them.
A sudden grunting sound startled the Company, but all they saw were black squirrels, which were too small to make the harsh noise. Huge cobwebs hung on the trees around the path, but none crossed it. Talaitha wondered if a spell kept them at bay. She hoped so, for that same spell would protect them as long as they remained on the trail.
They trudged on, grumbling and cursing at the lack of a breeze that would have made the dank, still, and decaying air more bearable. Talaitha wasn't surprised that Bilbo was miserable, but when even the dwarves complained about the cave-like forest, she knew it was bad, for they were accustomed to sunless and windless spaces. She tried to keep her spirits high by thinking of all the people and places she loved, but that just reminded her of her bright Nemere, and she felt like she was slowly suffocating. She hated Mirkwood even worse than the mountains, which was saying something.
#
Their first night was awful. It was so dark that they could barely see their own hands in front of their faces, but they had no trouble seeing the glinting, evil eyes that watched them from above and around. They had a brief respite from the darkness when they made a fire, but bats and black moths as large as their hands were soon attracted to it. They quickly stamped it out, but the number of yellow eyes had increased. Bilbo was particularly disturbed by the big, bulbous ones that stared down at them.
"Those are not animal eyes," he said.
Nori, who was an experienced hunter, agreed. "Not any animal's I've ever seen."
When they finally fell asleep, they did so near each other; in fact, Talaitha was hugged between Kili and Fili, but she didn't mind, for they kept her warm. She dreamt of the bulbous eyes and was just about to see their owner when she was shaken awake by Fili.
"Rise and shine, Laitha." He handed her one of Beorn's twice-baked cakes for breakfast.
Although they were still hungry, their uncertainty about the size of the forest forced them to ration the food and water. For the next week, they trekked glumly during the day and slept restlessly at night, while their provisions dwindled and the forest stretched on.
One afternoon, Thorin pulled Talaitha away from the others. "I thought you said you've been through Mirkwood before." His voice was harsh and bordering on accusatory.
"I have," she snapped. "But I also said that was when it was still the Green Wood. I don't recognize this forest."
Excited shouts drew their attention; Kili had shot a black squirrel. Nori unsheathed his knife to skin it, but Talaitha shook her head. When she touched the animal, she recoiled. "Poisoned."
"Damn this place!" Dwalin cursed and threw the squirrel into the trees beyond the path. Something scuffled toward it in the fallen leaves.
"Obviously not poisoned enough," Bilbo quipped.
#
A few days later, they reached the black stream Beorn had warned them about. A thick fog had descended onto the forest, obscuring the dwarves' vision, and to make matters worse, the bridge that had once spanned the stream was now rotted and useless.
"How are we to cross?" Ori despaired.
Talaitha tapped the hobbit's shoulder and pointed to the far bank.
"There's a boat!" said Bilbo.
Thorin regarded her with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Since you have the keenest eyesight, tell us how far away it is."
Talaitha stared passively at him for a few seconds, then joined Bilbo at the edge of the stream. "About 12 yards."
"That's as good as a mile!" said Dori.
"We can't jump it, and we daren't try to swim," Balin agreed.
Thorin sighed impatiently. "We'll throw a rope with a hook on it and pull it to us."
"What's the good of that? It's surely tied," Glóin protested.
"It isn't." Talaitha's voice was soft, and they barely heard it. She met Thorin's gaze, before he looked away and nodded curtly at Kili.
The youngest of Durin's line stood beside Talaitha and peered into the distance. "I see it. Someone bring me a rope."
He quickly tied a hook to the end, balanced it, and flung it across the stream. He overshot it by a couple feet, but Talaitha guided him. "Draw it back gently. Good, the hook's caught on the boat. Now give it a tug."
The rope went taut, and the boat lurched forward. Fili helped Kili pull it to their side, while Talaitha found two long branches with which they could row and steer, since the oars were missing.
"Bilbo, Talaitha, you cross with me," said Thorin, climbing into the boat after the hobbit and fairy. "The rest of you, follow no more than three at a time. Bombur, cross last and alone."
The fat dwarf looked aggravated, but Thorin's glare silenced any protest he considered making. Talaitha felt sorry for the dwarf, but Thorin was right; Bombur's weight alone was equal to that of at least two dwarves.
The going was slow, but eventually, they all landed safely on the other side. Now only Bombur remained, and it seemed like he, too, would make it...until mayhem broke loose. A large buck jumped onto the bank where the dwarves stood, knocking some of them to the ground. Talaitha managed to duck the front hooves, while Thorin shot him as he leapt across the stream. The buck stumbled and collapsed on the opposite bank, but the dwarves cheered at their good fortune, for he looked healthy and could be reached with the boat.
Then Bilbo's frantic shout doused their optimism; Bombur had fallen into the black stream and was drowning. They threw a rope to him, which he caught, and hauled him to shore, but he was already asleep with a smile on his plump face.
"Curse the clumsy oaf," Dwalin grumbled. "Now we'll have to carry him."
"And the boat broke when he fell onto it," said Kili, staring at the splintered wood of the stern.
Fili sighed. "No venison after all."
As soon as the words left his mouth, a horn sounded, and white does and fawns appeared through the bushes. The dwarves aimed their bows.
"No! Don't shoot!" Talaitha placed herself between the dwarves and the deer. "They're mothers with their babies."
"We need food, lass," said Balin.
Talaitha stood her ground. "Then we shall find it elsewhere."
The dwarves acquiesced, albeit gracelessly and with plenty of grumbling. Thorin regarded her with veiled admiration, for although she'd ruined an easy meal, she'd also stood by her principles against thirteen armed dwarves. And it had reminded him of all the times he had received her kindness and affection, even when he hadn't deserved them. He mentally kicked himself for allowing his hatred of elves to poison everything they'd shared since meeting in Bag End.
She was watching him, too, though with a glint in her eyes that dared him to chide her for her actions. But he wouldn't. He couldn't. So he surprised her by nodding his head once, before slinging Bombur's right arm over his shoulder and carrying him with Dwalin, Bifur, and Bofur.
#
For five days, the dwarves alternated groups of four to bear their slumbering comrade. During one of their respites, they heard laughter-pleasant, musical laughter that could only belong to one race.
"Elves!" Talaitha stopped and gazed in the direction from which the mirthful sounds came. Soon, an eerily beautiful song followed. "We should go to them."
Thorin glanced at Fili, who touched the fairy's arm and gently said, "We have to stay on the path."
Talaitha nodded, but she looked disappointed. "Yes, of course. Lead on."
The trail went downhill from there, leading into a section of oaks, which looked healthier than the previous tress. However, this was little comfort to the Company, for trees of any kind meant they were still in the forest.
"Bilbo, climb the tallest oak and tell us what you see," said Thorin. He hoisted the hobbit onto a branch and watched him scale the tree with a hitherto unseen speed; it seemed he, too, was anxious to be rid of Mirkwood.
Ten minutes later, Bilbo dropped to the ground, panting. "As far as I could see, the forest goes on in all directions."
He wisely did not mention the "black emperor" butterflies that flitted in the tree tops as Thorin and the others cursed harshly in Khuzdul. Talaitha gave an exasperated sigh and started walking down the path again, sparing a single glance over her shoulder when she heard the dwarves fall in line behind her.
#
The next morning, they ate the last of their food and were nearing the bottom of their water skins. However, a tiny bit of fortune smiled upon them as it began to rain. They caught some droplets on their tongues, which helped to quench their thirst, but as quickly as the shower came, it also went.
Then they heard a groan. Bombur had finally awoken, though his complaints about his hunger and thirst almost made the Company wish he hadn't. He'd also forgotten everything that had happened since Bag End and barely believed the sequence of events his companions recounted.
"I suppose that's no stranger than the dreams I had," he said at last. "I was walking through a forest quite like this one, but it was lit with torches, lamps, and fires. In a large clearing, a grand feast was going on, and an elf king with a crown of leaves sat at the head."
Talaitha's eyebrows furrowed. "Thranduil wears such a crown."
Thorin scowled, but Bombur ignored it. "I don't care who it was, for there were so many things to eat and drink that I cannot describe them all."
"You need not try," Bilbo grumbled, his stomach gurgling with hunger.
Before Thorin could bark out orders to move on, Kili, who was farthest ahead, exclaimed, "Look, there are lights!"
And sure enough, they saw glowing, reddish-orange dots appear in the distance-fires. Fires meant people, and people meant food.
"It's like in my dream!" Bombur started toward the lights and was about to step off the path, when Thorin pulled him back.
"What good would a feast be if we don't return from it?"
"What good is continuing if we'll just starve?" Bilbo countered.
Balin, as usual, was the voice of reason. "Don't forget what Beorn said. If we stray off the path, we may never find it again."
Yet the others protested, and in the end, they decided they'd all investigate the fires. That way, even if they did get lost, at least they'd be together, which increased their odds of survival.
The nearer they crept to the lights, the stronger the smell of roast meat and spices pervaded the air. It wasn't long before Bombur's hunger took over. When he ran into the clearing, the fires were extinguished, plunging the Company into complete darkness. Only Talaitha could see clearly enough to gather the others; she found Bilbo first, taking his hand and leading him to Kili, who took the hobbit's hand, until all the dwarves were linked and following Talaitha further into the forest.
The fires sprang up again, but this time, they approached more cautiously. Bombur managed to restrain himself, though he yearned to rush in.
"Bilbo, go talk to the elves and see if they'll give you food and water," said Thorin. "The rest of us will wait here."
Talaitha gave Thorin a measured look. "I think it'd be better if I go. After all, I look enough like the elves to earn their friendship."
So she had yet to forgive him for his callous insinuation. He regretted it, of course, but he couldn't show it in front of his men. "You will remain here." His tone was firm and final.
The fairy clenched her jaw but said nothing. The others were surprised by Thorin's treatment of her, for until they had entered Mirkwood, he had considered and even welcomed her suggestions. And though they would never admit it to their leader, they believed Talaitha was right.
Bilbo nervously walked into the circle of lights, but he didn't get a chance to talk, for the fires went out a second time. Talaitha found the others again, but now the elves seemed to have disappeared. The Company settled down to wait.
They sat in the pitch blackness for hours, long enough that some of the dwarves dozed off. Talaitha yawned as she struggled to stay awake. She felt a dwarf's hand gently pull her closer, and she didn't resist when her head fell onto his shoulder. Before she drifted to sleep, the scent of pipe smoke, something faintly musky, and the earth reached her nose.
Talaitha awoke to Thorin's voice. "They're back."
She saw he was already standing and wondered if he'd slept at all. Probably not, for how else would he have seen the lights?
When they reached the clearing, they stared in amazement at the feast, which looked just like Bombur had described. There sat Thranduil, with a crown of orange leaves upon his golden hair. Elves sang and played harps, while bowls of mouth-watering food were passed around the tables.
Suddenly, the fires were extinguished, though the Company was still hidden. Talaitha vaguely saw the dwarves' puzzled faces, but she was more concerned about Bilbo, who had gone missing. She searched in the darkness, not daring to call out to him in case foul creatures lurked nearby.
"Can you not see him?" asked Thorin.
"Of course I can," she snapped. "I'm just letting him stumble around in the dark alone."
"Our little minx has claws," said Kili, the smirk audible in his voice.
She sighed and sat down. "I'm as tired of this blasted forest as the rest of you."
"Traveling through it was your idea," Dori pointed out as politely as he could.
"Yes, I know," she replied. "And I still believe it's faster than fighting off hordes of orcs and goblins in the mountains. I'm just frustrated that I'm useless."
Her dejected tone surprised the dwarves, for Talaitha was often the one who bucked up everyone else's spirits with her ready smile and dry sense of humor. Now they felt obliged to return the favor.
"You can see things we can't," said Ori. "Like right now. I bet you can see me, but I can't see you."
"And if you hadn't known the squirrel I shot was poisoned, we'd have eaten it and might've been sick," Kili said.
Thorin wished he could add his own praise, but he was too hungry, tired, thirsty, and annoyed to think of anything complimentary about her, especially after their argument. He still cared for her, but he couldn't silence that nagging whisper in the back of his mind, reminding him that she felt a special fondness for elves. If he'd be honest with himself, he'd realize it was fear that prompted him to treat her so unkindly-fear that there was no room for him in her heart. But it was easier to blame her for being friends with his people's enemy.
"You didn't make fun of me for falling into the black stream."
Bombur's comment elicited laughter, easing the tension a bit. Talaitha was glad her giggles masked the hitch in her breath, for the dwarves' kindness had brought tears of gratitude. She turned her head and Thorin was looking in her direction, though she knew he couldn't see her in the dark. But she could see him, could see his conflicted expression, yet she still could not forgive him for what he'd said.
After some discussion, it was decided that nothing more could be done to locate Bilbo that night, even with Talaitha's sharp vision, so the Company would wait until morning. Once again, they huddled together and fell into a fitful sleep. The spiders arrived so quietly that no one heard them.
Talaitha awoke when she felt something hairy and heavy wrap around her waist. Thinking it was one of the dwarves' arms, she pushed it off, then froze; it was much too large and prickly to be a dwarf's arm. Steeling herself, she forced her gaze up and screamed at what she saw-a huge, black spider towered above her, its great fangs dripping venom that splashed onto Fili's chest beside her.
Her shriek woke the dwarves and aggravated the spiders, who began snatching up the dwarves. They were as terrified as she was, though they couldn't see their attackers. They blindly tried to dodge the spiders' prodding legs, not risking using their weapons for fear of striking a friend.
"What are they?" Talaitha heard Dori cry.
"Giant spiders!" she shouted and managed to slice off a leg of the one following her.
Now that the dwarves knew their foe, they, too, began slashing at the legs. Talaitha spotted Thorin and ran towards him, but before she could reach him, a spider hoisted her into the air. Her scream distracted the dwarf king long enough for him to be captured also, but he was more concerned about Talaitha; her yell was one of pain, not fear. His heart sank when he felt the spider's fangs pierce the skin of his arm. His last thought before he succumbed to the venom was that they were doomed.
And that he wished he could have kissed Talaitha one last time before they died.