Chapter 15

"There is a wisdom of the head, and a wisdom of the heart." —Charles Dickens

Holly couldn't move for a long time. She sat there immobilized, blankly staring ahead, arms wrapped around her legs as blood trickled down her face.

Everything had fallen apart in a matter of minutes. She should have persuaded the dwarves to wait for Bilbo. They might have been able to help him fight off the spiders. But she'd been too concerned with antagonizing Thorin to think about that.

Her head ached and buzzed, leaving a thick haze of disorientation behind. She couldn't think. And she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her.

Think, think, think…

"What?" Holly said aloud.

There's something you're forgetting. Try using that useless brain of yours for once.

"Fantastic, now I have a voice in my head," she announced to the empty, cloying air. At least she wasn't alone anymore, she thought with a pang.

The rest of the Company is dead. They can't help you now.

"They're not dead," she protested, denial welling up in her throat. Panic was beginning to settle in her stomach again. "Don't assume someone is dead unless you see a body." It was a logical argument and it brought a great deal of comfort to Holly. Of course that was what she had been missing—she couldn't just give up without verifying the reason for doing so.

The word closure tickled the back of her mind, and the promptly pushed it away.

Holly inched through the thicket of huge, curving thorns, careful not to let any scratch her, though a few of the thorns snagged her coat. She stood up and brushed herself off, feeling a bit less hopeless.

Never assume someone is dead unless you see a body, she repeated silently to herself as she scaled the slope she'd fallen down. There was always the chance that the Company was simply lost, and if she managed to find them—

"Damn it!" Holly grit her teeth, ire and despair storming through her chest as she reached the top of the slope. The path was nowhere to be found. Where flattened dirt had once been, there was only tree roots and slimy-leaved bushes.

It was impossible for a path to simply not be there anymore—it was impossible. Illogical. But Mirkwood seemed to have a tendency to destroy all foundations of normalcy and stability that she'd managed to erect in her mind.

"Okay…I can deal with this..."

You won't be dealing with anything if you just stand there.

"Shut up," Holly growled, but began walking in a random direction—it didn't matter since she was lost anyway. At least she had some semblance of a guide. The voice in her head was strangely familiar, as though it had always been there and she was just now beginning to listen. She didn't dwell on it, though, passing it off as another side-effect of being in Mirkwood too long. She tried not to think about what would happen if she ended up being trapped in the forest forever.

Insanity, probably. If you don't starve first.

"Shut up," she muttered.

There was a split-second creak of a bowstring and the dim glint of an arrow being pointed at her face.

"Don't move."

Holly stepped back abruptly, too surprised to gasp, then relaxed as the elf stepped into view. Finally, some company. She raised her hands in surrender as another elf moved beside the first, his bow drawn as well.

"What business have you in Mirkwood?" the first one demanded.

"I...I'm looking for my dwarves and a hobbit. Have you seen them?" Holly stared into the elf's distrustful hazel eyes, trying to pretend that her entire world didn't hang on the balance of this one answer. She couldn't ignore the tightness in her chest, however.

The elf considered her for a moment, then said, "This way." He gestured through the trees with his arrow, indicating for her to follow.

So they knew who she was talking about. That much was clear, but the Company could still be dead for all she knew.

Holly followed the elf, the other one behind her, likely aiming an arrow at her back. As her adrenaline drained away, exhaustion began to set in, seeping through her veins like water weighing down a drowning man's clothes. She tried not to stumble as the underbrush snagged on the hem of her dress.

Eventually the sound of voices filtered through the air. At first there was just the light, musical tones of elves, but then Holly heard a distinctly rougher reply that sounded like Gloin's voice. Her heart leapt. So they were alive. Holly ducked under a low-hanging tree branch and stepped into a clearing. The Company was in a tight cluster in the middle, emanating hostility like thick smoke as other elves moved among them, searching the dwarves for weapons.

She took in the bits of spider web on their clothing and the spider carcasses littered around the clearing. One of the carcasses was merely a torso, trails of sticky blood leading to eight detached limbs surrounding it. So they had run into the spiders, but hadn't had half as much trouble dealing with them as she had.

One of the elves grabbed her by the arm and led her to where the dwarves were standing. They were focused on being belligerent with the elves and hadn't noticed her yet. Holly took a hesitant step forward, not quite sure how to make herself known—they hadn't parted on the best of terms. Perhaps she should tap one of them on the shoulder—?

Dori caught sight of her first. "Holly!" he cried, pulling her further into their little group. "Are you hurt, lass? You're bleeding!" He took out a handkerchief that had somehow managed to stay on his person and began wiping her face with it.

Pain erupted in her cheek like the slash of a white-hot poker and she pulled away with a gasp, shielding the wound with her hand.

"Oh, it's only a scratch," Dori scolded, tugging her hand away.

She saw there was fresh blood staining her fingers. "A scratch that should've stopped bleeding already." She winced. The thorns had been tinged an unnaturally bright green, indicative of only one thing. "Poison, probably."

"Poison?" Dori demanded. "Did those elves do something to you?"

"No, obviously not. If an elf attacked me I'd be walking away—or not—with a bit more than a scratch."

The dwarf simply rolled his eyes at her tone. "We'll get Oin to have a look at you."

"Okay," Holly said in a gentler voice.

She glanced over at the elf that had found her. He was speaking to a blond one (bright hair, intricate clothing, well-made bow—obviously high-ranking among his kind). They both turned and looked at her, their expressions uneasy. She frowned back. Perhaps they thought her choice of traveling companions was odd.

She turned back to Dori. "Where's Bilbo?" He scanned their little group for the hobbit, and she mirrored his movements. With an awful dropping feeling in her gut, she realized he wasn't among them. "Where is he?"

"He was with us, when we were fighting off the spiders," Dori answered, still looking around (though probably to avoid her demanding gaze).

"And now he's not. Where did he go?"

Shut up. Stop panicking.

Holly grit her teeth to avoid lashing out at the voice in her head. She really hoped it was only a temporary effect of Mirkwood.

Dori put a comforting hand on her arm. "Don't worry, lass. I'm sure Bilbo can handle himself just fine."
He had a point. Bilbo was definitely stronger, wiser, and braver than the hobbit he'd been when she had first met him, the hobbit that worried over handkerchiefs and buttons. The thought brought an uncomfortable twinge to her chest. If he was hurt…

"Line up and start walking," the blond elf commanded. "If you try anything, we will not hesitate to put an arrow through you." He turned to the other elves. "Ewenno hain!"

Holly gingerly wiped more blood off her face. It was beginning to drip down onto her coat collar. Was it possible to bleed out from a shallow cut?

As they walked the air became cooler and less heavy. The trees began to thin, then disappeared entirely as they entered a cool glade with a creek running through it. Holly noted the water was a natural color. Apparently the disease of Mirkwood did not extend to its elven realm.

Across a stone bridge, the opposite bank of the creek rose sharply into a bluff that stretched above the treetops. Two large stone doors were set in the rock face, and they opened as the group drew near.

"Holo in ennyn," the blonde elf commanded as they passed through the doors.

Holly shot one last glance at the shrouded forest behind her as the doors began to swing shut. Wherever Bilbo was...she prayed that he would be safe.

…

"This is not the end of it! You hear me?"

"Let us out of here!"
They had been in confinement for half an hour and the dwarves were already trying to negotiate their way out of the elven dungeons. Well, the term 'negotiate' was a bit of a stretch, unless dwarven diplomatic strategies involved cursing in Khudzul and slamming up against cell doors.

Holly felt a weak urge to tell them to shut up, and that it was no use trying to break out, but she stayed silent. She was half-afraid that if she tried to speak she would break down again. The way she had lost control left her feeling exhausted and rather ashamed. Thankfully no one had been there to see it.

"How's your cheek, Holly?" Dori asked from the front of the cell.

She touched it lightly. It was still tender, but the elves given her something to counteract the poison that was keeping her blood from clotting. "Good. Thank you." It meant a lot to Holly that the dwarf was always looking out for her, more than she was willing to admit. Just the simple way in which he cared for her gave her a comfort that she hadn't felt in a long time.

Holly felt herself relax a little. Even if they were to be stuck here forever, it wouldn't be that much of a loss. She had her friends, and that was far more important to her than the quest was. She just didn't want to be alone. The thought made her heart twinge as she thought of Bilbo. Wherever he was, she hoped he was alive at the very least.

…

Bilbo was very much alive, but he felt absolutely miserable. He was hungry, exhausted, and lost. There had been enormous spiders, tons of them, that had wrapped the dwarves in webs and been planning to eat them. Bilbo had nearly been eaten himself trying to rescue them. Then they had been separated in the ensuing battle against the giant arachnids and he had only found them after they had been captured by the elves. He'd come so close to being shut out from the elven kingdom, to having the doors close in his face, leaving him trapped and alone. As it was, Bilbo had managed to slip in, but he was still alone.

But what bothered him the most was that he was forced to skulk around the halls like a thief (or a burglar, he thought wryly). Which meant he was forced to keep his ring on at all times, to avoid being seen. He wouldn't have minded that—the ring was his only comfort and security in this strange place—except, as the days wore on, keeping it on felt wrong. The security he felt was countered by a nagging unease and dark whispers in the middle of the night which left him with a headache and the constant feeling of being watched.

This went on for around two weeks, and it was during this time that Bilbo's homesickness came back with a vengeance. He missed his fireplace, and his pantry, and his armchair… Bilbo didn't want to admit it, but he was starting to regret coming on this adventure. He missed not feeling lost.

Or perhaps he was just scared. Going back seemed a much more enticing option than admitting what lay ahead—he would have to find a way to rescue the dwarves from their prison.

…..

Holly glared at the ceiling outside the cell, where stray beams of light peeked through gaps in the carved stone. She could faintly see the outline of crimson leaves and a patch of frost-colored sky. Eru knows what the elves did when it rained.

Two weeks. Two weeks they had been trapped in here. Thorin had been to some sort of diplomatic meeting with the king (which involved more cursing in Khudzul, if the aftermath was anything to go by). Somehow he'd managed to botch things up so badly that they were forbidden from leaving Mirkwood forever, unless one of them decided to cooperate.

Which meant, if the stubbornness of dwarves was anything to go by, that they would not be leaving at all.

She could hear one of the dwarves trying to get her attention, but ignored whoever it was. Whatever he had to say couldn't be that important.

Perhaps the elves would consider her a weak link of some sort and be questioned about their purposes in the forest. After all, she was both a human and a woman and would therefore be expected to have a weaker will and lesser intelligence. Neither of those applied to her, of course, but they didn't know that. If she was questioned perhaps she could manipulate the king into letting them go, somehow. But that would depend on what kind of person he was.

A sharp poke to her side jolted her out of her thoughts.

She let out an irritated huff. Whatever Dori wanted could wait. It wasn't like she was going anywhere. "I'm trying to think. You would think being in a dungeon all day long would provide the opportunity to—" Holly turned and her voice died as she saw none other than Bilbo peering at her through the cell bars.

"I've been trying to get your attention for a while now," he said somewhat bemusedly.

"Bilbo." She glanced over at Dori. He was sleeping at the back of the cell. She turned back to the hobbit. "How did you get in here?"

His eyes flickered to the dungeon entrance. "They're, ah, not as secure as they think."

Holly let out a sigh of relief. He was safe. "Oh. Well. That's good. You're planning on helping us escape, I hope?"

"Yeah, that's what I want to talk to you about."

"You have a plan already?" She shifted onto her knees, leaning a hand on one of the bars of the door.

"I need a plan," Bilbo corrected, eyes flickering to the entrance again. "And since you're the cleverest person I know I thought I might as well ask you about it."

Holly couldn't help but blush at the compliment. "I see. Well, you would need to create some sort of distraction so we don't have to worry about the guards. You could put something in their food, maybe start a plague or something—"

"I'm not starting a plague, Holly. But, um, it's a start."

"Right. Elves don't easily get sick anyway." She thought for a moment, willing her cheeks to stay a normal color. "Lighting a fire would be a suitable distraction. And wine is very flammable; you could use that to spread the fire—"

"Holly." Bilbo put his hand on hers, effectively shutting her up. "No disease, and no fire. We're going for something something a little less...harmful."

The dwarves' antagonism towards the elves had probably rubbed off on her. She sighed. "This would be easier I could see how the castle is laid out. Not much use being clever if I'm stuck in here."

"You're doing fine. You know, I did hear one of the elves mention a feast tonight. That could be our distraction."

Holly nodded. "Try and find out who's going to be there. And see if you can find the keys to the cells."

He took his hand away. "I'll try and do that. Wish me luck."

"You'll be able to do this all without getting caught?" she asked.

He nodded and it suddenly became apparent to her how tired he looked. She took in the slightly gray pallor of his skin, the way his curls hung limply on his forehead. "You look terrible."

Bilbo frowned. "Thanks?"

She grimaced inwardly. Brilliant. "No, what I meant was...you don't look well."

He seemed taken aback at her concern. "I'm fine. Just a bit tired, is all. Don't worry about me."

As if she could help it. "All right. I'll...see you later, I suppose."

"Yeah."

She watched him step out of sight, letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Hopefully it wouldn't always be so nerve-wracking to talk to Bilbo.

You should tell him, Nori had said.

If she told Bilbo about her feelings, things between them would change. That was what she wanted, wasn't it? She would have to think about it.

Sharp footsteps halted outside the cell door. Holly looked up. The blond elf from before was staring at her coolly.

Or not.

"King Thranduil wishes to speak with you."

Eyyy did anyone notice the symbolism of Holly getting scratched by a thorn? (hint: thorns are commonly found on _ which symbolize _) so yes i do work on this story sometime

after crying over the BOFA trailer I descended into insanity and stayed up until midnight trying to finish Chapter 16. Which I did, and you will all hate me for what I wrote. I've also been playing Atlantiles on Webkinz so much that I hallucinate about fish.

wake me up (wake me up inside)

i can't wake up (wake me up inside)

In other news, leave comment and maybe i will feel normal again inside