"Incoming!"
Aleks's bellow projected me from my thin bedroll like a rocket. I landed on my feet, disoriented. Everything glowed in putrid yellows shot through with luminescent navies and dark purples. It all spun like a psychedelic kaleidoscope as my brain tried to figure out what was happening and what I was seeing. Flashes of crippling pain and nausea painted spots before my vision. Mirkwood. The proximity to the diseased wood had been bad before I'd managed to nod off. Now, it threatened to gut me.
The air was ripe with fear, and the trees' death cries ratcheted it up to Dol Guldur levels. My heart threw itself against my ribcage over and over again like a terrified rabbit slamming itself against the bars of its cage. I found Aleks in the confusion of changing, darkening lights. At first, I didn't see the cause for his cry nor the trees' death calls, but as my eyes lifted… The distant objects looked like nothing more than tangled clumps of pale limbs or knotted masses of roots. But then, details resolved themselves.
"No." Spiders. Giant spiders with eight legs and fuzzy looking bodies as creepy as the worst horror flick of all time. Reams of them skittered their way towards us with single-minded determination. It was like a tidal wave of pallid bodies glowing in the inconstant light of my dryad sight, all swarming at us from every direction.
Another spasm of pain lanced through my belly, and I fell to my knees. I tried to breathe through the pain and terror, my fingers clawing through the dried up detritus beneath my fingertips. Get up! Get up! This was not happening. Spiders? I freaked out if a Daddy Longlegs came into view.
Bilbo's hairy feet appeared within my line of vision. "This does not bode well for us, I shouldn't think."
"No, really?" Aleks snapped, bow held at the ready. A breath later, the distinctive whistle of arrows in flight broke the muted silence of the glade. "Daphne?" Distracted sounding, the question, as if bit out from between clenched teeth. A swift inhale. "Daph?"
Daphne's not here right now. Please leave your name and number, and she'll get back to you at a more convenient time.
A big part of me felt like it was checking out. "Keep shooting," I managed to say. And why was he pestering me now? Did we not have enough on our plates with man-eating spiders barreling down upon us? My own temper fired. He'd chosen a pitiful time to try and develop a conscience where I was concerned.
Small dirt- and grime-roughened hands aided me to my feet. I swayed, swallowing reflexively as nausea roiled through me like a brigantine tossed by a tumultuous sea. Bilbo threw me a worried look but the bulk of his big-eyed attention was focused decidedly elsewhere.
I staggered again, trying to remain upright as my innards twisted themselves into pretty knots. Searching frantically for some healthy vegetation I could use – I didn't care how tiny at this point – I froze as my eyes registered what was right before them. I'd grown accustomed to the threatening black specks marring the plants' life-force, but this was infinitely worse. Black kernels traveled like tiny beetles, pouring off the surrounding vegetation and coalescing in the handful to trees nearest us, so much so that those poor trees were nothing more than writhing columns of disease that glowed with the virulence of an 80's black light bulb. Their ghoulish light turned the surrounding forest a nightmarish cerulean. Before my eyes, I witness the last filaments of yellow snuff out. The trees here had been utterly consumed.
Dead.
Every ounce of blood drained from my face. "He's here," I whispered. Aleks's head whipped around, his chin bobbed up in a question. If Bilbo heard, he gave no outward evidence of it.
Sauron had sent his spiders. They neared with every frantic beat of my heart, growing larger and larger. My hands began to shake uncontrollably. He'd used them as scouts, no doubt. But why? I was small potatoes!
Didn't matter. Better question: what was next? Orcs. Wargs. Nazgûl? I scrubbed at my face, trying to think, but my terror of spiders mixed with the growing sense of him made it a feat on a par with singlehandedly slaying Smaug with a spoon.
Bilbo.
I grabbed him with one hand and dragged him, willy-nilly, to a white-eyed Nibenroch. "You have to leave," I told him.
"What? I'm not-"
"You have to," I almost screamed. "You are the only one who can stop this, do you understand? No one else can bear what you must."
"Mistress Daphne-"
"Do as she says, Bilbo," Aleks growled. Spiders fell as his arrows punctured rotund bodies, his accuracy improving with proximity, but that very proximity meant we had only a handful of gasping breaths left before we were inundated. "Dude, get to Beorn. You ride like mad and don't stop for anything, got it?"
"But-"
"Bilbo, please," I begged, pushing him into the saddle. "You have to go." A quick glance over my shoulder froze the air in my lungs. I shoved Nib in the shoulder and slapped his rump. "Run!"
Nib half-reared and bolted with a high-pitched neigh, his ears flat to his skull and mane whipping behind him like a banner. The two raced beneath a tree-bound wave of insects, Nib only just managing to stay ahead of web zots projected at them.
Nibenroch shrilled and dodged between trees. Bilbo flattened himself to the horse's back, the little hobbit almost disappearing from view. They broke past the final line of giant spiders. A few spiders scurried after them.
I stared at my hand and the nearest tree. One touch. One touch, and Bilbo would be free. The spiders would turn back for me. Sauron had no reason to pursue the hobbit, not with what he didn't know.
That lone neuron chose that moment to return and freeze me in my tracks. One touch and Estel would never live to maturity. The Shire would be razed. Gimli would be hunted and executed, as would Legolas. Denethor would likely never live to sire sons, and Theoden would never grow up.
I recoiled, hand pressed to my breast.
"Aleks," I tried to say and found my voice robbed of strength. I stumbled to him. "Aleks."
"Kind of busy here, Daph."
"It won't work," I said, placing one hand to his bow. His head whipped around. "It won't work," I repeated. "We can't take them. And the minute he has me, it all ends."
His Adam's apple bobbed, and his grip on his bow turned a pale blue in the unhealthy light. "What are you saying?"
"I can distract them. Just for a second. You'll slip free after Bilbo."
"I am not-"
"You have to shoot me."
OoOoOo
No. Way.
She was not asking this of him. Not after everything. "Not happening," he growled.
She tugged at his arm and plucked at his tunic sleeves. "Aleks-"
"No." He returned to firing his weapon. He knew she was right – there was no way out of this for them – but for Durin's sake. To just give up? It wasn't in him. He'd go down fighting, and he'd take as many of these monsters with him as he could.
He would not go out a murderer of his own sister.
Thunder rumbled. "Great. Just what we need. Rain." It figured. Aleks aimed his bow.
"Khazad ai-Menu!"
Aleks almost peed himself in overwhelming relief. Bifur appeared at the helm of a mounted host of warriors, the ground shaking under their hooves. Aleks yelped as Bifur reached over and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. With a deft twist of the wrist, Bifur deposited Aleks on the saddle's cantle behind him. Aleks almost tipped over backwards, but steadied himself by grabbing the wild-haired dwarf's broad shoulders.
Elves swarmed past, engaging the spiders with Legolas in the lead. Bifur's horse danced, its eyes rolling, but the dwarf made no move to urge his horse onward. There was nowhere to go. The spiders rushed at them from all directions, a glowing sea of arachnids that lit up his satyr's sight like an oncoming flow of lava.
Bilbo, my man. Be safe. He hoped the hobbit had slipped free of this death trap.
Bifur turned his horse to the three o'clock position and met an oncoming spider's charge with a thrust of his boar spear. Using its inertia, the dwarf swung the boar spear over head and let the spider's body fly in the opposite direction, slamming into still more spiders.
"Dude. Bifur, I wanna be you when I grow up," he said over the roar of battle. Lifting his bow, Aleks began firing, trying to focus upon the spiders rappelling down from above.
Bofur materialized to Aleks's left. The other toymaker met the leading edge of a group of insects that had managed to swarm past the elves' front lines. And was that Gloin? Sure enough, a second glance confirmed that the small figure standing on foot in a sea of spiders was none other than the dwarf in question. And did he dish out the hurt. The dwarf's ax flew, and spider limbs severed. Gloin laughed like he hadn't had as much fun in decades.
What was going on? Dwarves cooperating with elves… Had hell frozen over and no one bothered to inform him?
Bofur wielded his mattock like a grim reaper, sweeping it along one side of his mount with the sharp pick side pointed inward. The pick pierced through everything in its path, both puncturing and crushing opponent after opponent.
At Bofur's six, Bombur twisted a mace overhead – Nori's? – before cracking it down upon one foe after another. Nothing survived his brutal strikes. Gore coated the weapon, and bits stuck in the spikes.
Had something happened to Nori? Fear for all of his family seized him, and he craned around in search of his sister. Of all those he cared for, she was the most vulnerable. He'd expected to see her clutching Bofur's back, or Bombur's, but neither had a passenger.
He was about to jump off Bifur's mount to find her when he saw her distinctive aura beyond them. Daphne sat before a silver haired elf, his cloak hiding her from view as he lashed out with a sword at anything that ventured near. Aleks's breath hitched. The spiders were targeting them, crawling over anything in their path in a bid to get at the two. While the elf was amazing to watch, how long could he last?
Bofur urged his mount closer the instant he had a second to catch his breath. "Where's our hobbit?" the toymaker hollered above the cacophony of battle raging around them.
"We sent him ahead," Aleks shouted back, his attention again returning to check on the elf with his sister. "With the horse."
Relief brightened the older man's countenance. The toymaker's lips pulled up in a lopsided grin. Bofur's smile assumed a sharp edge, and he drawled, "Did I not tell you, Bifur? The lad throws a party and fails to invite us."
Bifur's chest rumbled with laughter, and Aleks caught a glimpse of an unkempt gray-streaked black beard and the profile of the ax in his skull as Bifur turned a toothy grin upon his cousin.
"I glad to see you guys," Aleks said. "But I'd be happier if one of you had scooped up Daphne."
"Aye," Bombur huffed from behind them. His mace cracked down on another spider attempting to sneak its way closer to Bifur's other flank. "That elf snatched her up before I could."
"What happened to Nori?" Aleks demanded. "And the others?" He was about to change gear and point out that silver-haired elf's plight, but arrows rained down from one of the trees. The elf saluted in that direction with his ichor-coated sword
Bofur crushed another spider beneath the weight of the flat end of his mattock. "Safe as a wee bairn back in the Elvenking's Halls," he said.
Safe? In Thranduil's care? What could have happened to make that a "safe" option? I don't want to know, he decided. (What was a bairn?)
Closer and closer the spiders pressed and for a long stretch, the only sounds were the ring of weapons and the screams of the injured.
"How many of these things are there?" Aleks said in disbelief. "Tell me it could be worse than this, Bofur!"
The dwarf in question paused only long enough to back his horse up and smash his mattock into a new leading edge of insects. "Oi!" He took a moment to kick a spider that'd snuck up on his flank before he proclaimed with a grin, "At least there is no dragon!"
Aleks snorted and almost choked on spittle. A laugh burst from him. He wasn't the only one. The elf protecting Daphne barked in disbelief, shaking his head as he utilized his sword like a scalpel in the hands of a surgeon. No wasted movement.
Bofur threw a jaunty smile over his shoulder, "Ye think we should inform the elves that they have a bit of a spider problem?"
Aleks laughed again as he notched another arrow.
Bombur replied in a loud voice, "Dwarf lassies know better how to avoid such a sorry state. Perhaps elf lassies cannot wield a broom?"
Aleks reached for another arrow and felt panic grow. He was going to run out of ammo at this rate. All around them elves fought spiders, some on foot while others had found perches among the towering, blighted trees. One fell with a scream, his torso a bloody mess. Mahal. Aleks really wished for Thorin's rock-steady presence, but he immediately countered the thought. He'd rather Thorin and the others remain safe. Safer, he corrected. He didn't for a second trust them in that elf king's tender mercies.
His gaze returned to his sister. The elf fought in a style completely different from the dwarves'. Where Aleks's friends relied heavily upon brute strength and Herculean feats of might, the elf – all the elves for that matter – utilized their uncanny agility to dance around potential blows. Daphne's protector was hindered by Daph's presence, but he held his own with the aerial assistance.
So far.
"Can we work our way closer to Daph?" he shouted, only to have to duck at Bofur's sharp, "Down!" The mattock slammed into a spider Aleks hadn't even seen coming and batted it across the glade like a freaking baseball.
"Thanks," Aleks called.
Bifur urged his trembling horse into a slow retreat, never turning his back to the oncoming arachnids. Aleks's quiver ran dry. He immediately thought of the second quiver left behind somewhere in their dark campsite. A swift scan promised that finding it would be impossible. All around, spiders gushed odd colored fluids and died, while elves rained down arrows from above or dove into the mess of them with flashing blades. It was chaos. Absolute, blood-chilling chaos.
Where's Gandalf when you need him? Oh, that was right. According to Daphne, Gandalf was off ousting the necromancer from Dol Guldur. They wouldn't catch so much as a glimpse of his pointed hat for weeks to come.
Daphne screamed, and the Company responded like a shot. The three dwarves spun their mounts around and kicked the horses into a gallop. Across the way, Gloin began to power through spiders like he was fighting a current, his ax never still. The elf's gray horse staggered as multiple spiders swarmed up its chest. Daph had both legs pulled up. The horse retreated as fast as it could, but it was going down. The elf could not slay the creatures fast enough to save them.
Then Daph looked at the tree they were inches from slamming into and jumped off the horse before the elf could do more than cry, "Hwinneth!"
She fell hard, but she scrambled up and ran for Bofur at the head of their pack. A spider reared up and spat silken threads at her. They splattered across her legs, and she crashed down again.
"Get up," Aleks said stupidly. It wasn't like she wasn't trying. The gooey stuff defied her efforts, trapping legs and then hands as she tried to tear it with her bare fingers.
Bofur leaped down from the running horse, slashed across the webbed threads with his mattock. He kicked the spider like a football. Grabbing Daph up with his free hand, he vaulted at the horse, making up with strong legs what he lacked in stature. Once seated, he held her locked in place with one arm around her waist while his mattock plowed through the oncoming writhing mass of legs and bodies pursuing her.
"Daph, you okay?" Aleks shouted from behind Bifur, his heart pounding from the near miss.
"They're trying to make me touch one of the trees," she cried, both arms around Bofur's neck in a death grip.
"Why would they do that?" Aleks called over his shoulder as he drew his sword and joined Bifur's efforts on keeping the disgusting creatures off his sister.
"Because he's here, Aleks! He's pulled all of his disease from everything nearby and funneled it into the trees here."
Aleks witnessed the hard, slightly bemused look Bofur shared with his cousin and brother, then the Three Bs turned to him for clarification.
They sure didn't have time for explanations. "Keep her away from any plants, Bofur," Aleks said. "Any." He had no idea what would happen if she touched one, but it was plain to him that such a fate scared her more than the spiders. And Daphne had always loathed spiders. He used to sneak jars full of them into her bedroom at night for just that reason.
Bofur nodded shortly, and Bombur nudged his mount into position in front of Daphne and his brother. The mace hit target after target, each impact audible and horrible.
The silver-haired elf faltered a few paces from them, but arrows rained down from above, and another, blond elf dismounted from the branch above with a gymnastic twist that planted him on his feet right before the other.
"Are you injured?" the blond, Legolas, demanded.
The taller elf grunted but shook his head. "Nothing more than scratches."
"Hwinneth?" Legolas called next.
"I'm fine," Daphne said.
Legolas spared her a short look, assessing. "I doubt that, penneth, but hold tight. We near the end of them. They are thinning."
Thinning? Aleks didn't see it, but ookay. He hoped the elf was right, because the dwarves were dripping sweat, and Aleks felt like he'd run the Iditarod by himself using only his hands.
Shaking off his hope for a swift end to this nightmare, he rotated his shoulders to loosen up tight muscles and slashed towards another spider.
OoOoOo
I breathed deeply. Bofur smelled of pipeweed, horse, and old, stale sweat. The earthy, common scents filled my nostrils with each inhalation. The guy was rank, no doubt about it – time in a dungeon followed by a chaser of hard riding would do that – but there was no disease or cloying decay present. He smelled of honest labor, and I took a measure of comfort in it.
The cramping of my internal muscles refused to subside, leaving me basically dead in the water while everyone else did the hard work of keeping us all intact and breathing. Reduced to damsel-in-distress-ness. Oh joy.
Bofur's deep, relieved exhale was my first clue we'd survived. My second was the sound of Legolas's barked commands to cut down the remaining spider stragglers. I was able to relinquish my white-fingered grip on Bofur, daring to believe that no spider was going to descend and rip me from him. My hands slipped down from his neck, and he patted me on the back.
"Alright, my lass?" he asked near my ear. His mustache tickled my earlobe, an odd sensation.
"Aye," I said, the word slipping from me. Pulling back, I offered him a weak smile. His face was shadowed and odd in the strange dark light. "You saved me back there, Bofur. I won't forget it."
"Och," he said with his customary smile. I could think of no one who smiled as much as this dwarf and his kin. Funny that the stories should make them out to be idiots because of it, because from where I sat, life needed more humor. "Couldn't be letting the elves have all the fun, now, could we?"
"The rest of the Company? They're okay?"
"Aye. Thorin ordered them to stay put. They were not best pleased."
I snorted, then rubbed my belly surreptitiously, but not surreptitiously enough based upon the slight tensing along his shoulders. "Thank you. If you hadn't arrived when you did…" Impulse became action, and I leaned up to peck him on the cheek.
His brows shot sky high, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Legolas interrupted.
"Hwinneth."
I twisted in the saddle, breathing deeply as moving set my stomach into further gyrations. Bofur's arm tucked tighter around me. His mattock lifted the teensiest bit, as if he saw Legolas as a potential threat.
Legolas examined me, his head tilted back and hands upon his hips. That smooth, elvish brow creased in concern. "Hwinneth, you look terrible."
"Tha-"
"He's right, Daph. Has it gotten worse?" Aleks asked from somewhere behind us.
Now I knew I was ill, because Aleks's concern actually looked and felt sincere. I must be hallucinating. That was the only explanation. Aleks, concerned? No way. I shook my head and turned to Legolas and answered with a dry, "Thank you, mellon nin. I feel so much better hearing that."
His stern demeanor developed a crack, and a small smile spread across his lips. "At least I know now that you are not severing your ties with us," he said.
"Severing?" I echoed. I was aghast at the conclusion, but movement compelled my attention back to the black energy intensifying all around us. Chills broke out upon my arms.
Bofur's grip on me shifted, adjusting so that he could see my face…and placed me a few inches further away from the elf.
Legolas glanced at him, measuring, before returning to me. "You left without a word to Ada or Naneth."
I plucked on the fabric of Bofur's tunic. How could I make Legolas see? "Legolas, I have to do this. I couldn't risk Gwathadar denying me."
"I know." His soft statement halted me in my tracks. "So Belegon said. But you left unprepared and without suitable escort."
"So you brought my dwarves?" I blurted. It sounded arrogant and all kinds of demeaning, but I didn't mean it that way. I meant… These three dwarves here were my dwarves. The ones who had taken me into their care straight off. Of them all, I knew these the best.
Legolas's shadowed brow arched upwards. "Your dwarves?" he asked with a trace of amusement but also a touch of warning.
Deciding I wasn't quite to the puking stage, I risked leaning forward, offering Legolas my hand. He slipped his into my grasp, his flesh cooler, paler. "Legolas, I would trust these three, trust any of Thorin's dwarves, really, with my life. They aren't your enemy."
His lips twisted. "Apparently not at the moment." He lifted a hand, halting my objections while I did a double-take, spotting Gloin over his shoulder. "Peace, Hwinneth. I will collect the gear we gathered for you. You must ride on. To all appearances, the Dark Lord summoned the entire spider population in Mirkwood. We followed their tracks for miles."
The Dark Lord. How did Legolas…?
Legolas trotted off, and Caranoran quickly took his place. Bofur's next breath held a hint of annoyance and impatience. I patted his hand as Caranoran said, "Hwinneth, I was concerned. Why did you jump from my horse?"
Could we do this some other time? I swallowed, squirming in my seat and seriously considering finding a private patch of empty soil to pay homage to. I wanted my first aid kit and a big wad of mint.
"Hwinneth?"
Deep breaths. That was the ticket. I forced myself to answer, "We have to leave, Caranoran. I know you have no idea what is happening-"
"Try me," he said, no humor at all in those eyes. A hand looped around my ankle and squeezed.
"How bad is it, Daph?" Aleks asked, keeping his voice low from where he sat behind Bifur, the two still mounted.
Caranoran shot a venomous glare in Aleks's direction. I noted it, but it was the last thing I cared about at the moment. Aleks's question made me hyper-aware of just how much more of the evil sludge had migrated here. I didn't need to look around us. I could feel the black energy like billions of ants crawling over my skin.
"Bad," I whispered. "The energy around us is completely black. It's like it collected bits of itself on the way here. He knows, Aleks. He knows I'm different and that I can cleanse his plague. Only a little bit at a time, but with Thranduil's help, we could undo a lot of the damage he did. I guess he sees me as a threat to his plans for this kingdom."
"More than that," Legolas said.
"What do you mean?" Aleks demanded, glaring.
Legolas acted like Aleks didn't exist, and although I knew it rude, a part of me wanted to kiss him for that. Kiss both elves for their displays of loyalty and anger. Legolas's head turned my way. "He attacked Ada the day we left."
I blanched. "What?" No, no, no. That wasn't supposed to happen. "How bad?"
"I don't know. Gellamon remained behind to rule in his stead. Ada asked Thorin Oakenshield for his aid before he secluded himself for our protection."
Aleks swore, looking away with a rigid profile. Then turning back, "We need to get you out of here."
"Aye," Bofur agreed. Bifur nodded emphatically.
"We need to find Bilbo, too," I broached.
Legolas shook his head. "You and your companions must leave these woods with all haste. I will search for the hobbit and bring him to you."
But it's Bilbo, I wanted to argue. Instead, my gaze was drawn back to the inky vegetation helplessly. Right now, the vegetation wasn't moving. Perhaps Sauron could not force the trees into action against their will, but I for one sure didn't want to test that theory. The guys were right. I had to get out of here.
Legolas whistled and another elf, this one dark haired, brought forth a dappled mare for me. Legolas checked the saddle and accepted my bag from the same elf, lashing it into place.
"Legolas, why?" I had to ask, my gesture encompassing all of it: the camp, the supplies, everything. I knew how much he loathed dwarves. I also knew how serious my infractions were, dousing Belegon and setting the dwarves free. Yet here Legolas stood, aiding us.
I felt the weight of his scrutiny and thought I saw his lips quirk up in the low light. He shook out a cloak and tucked it around me. Bofur held his objections and assisted him. Legolas settled the hood over my head, and I fingered the fabric, finding it exquisite to the touch. The dwarves probably hated it, for I was sure it bore the Elvenking's colors. I bet myself it was intentional based upon Legolas's tiny smile.
Legolas chucked me under the chin when he was finished. "Do you really believe Ada names every stray mortal he encounters 'daughter'? Or that we do not agree with his decision?"
"Daughter?" Aleks sputtered.
I ignored him, focusing upon Legolas. When put that way…
"You are learning, but still you do not understand your value, penneth." He nodded off to the side. "And your representative was quite forceful in pleading the necessity of your actions," he finished with a hint of warning.
Following his gaze, confused, I began to scan the elves standing there, but one stood out among them all. Rambo himself. "Belegon," I said.
"Belegon," Legolas agreed. "Though I believe he has some words for you about leaving him asleep at his post."
Mirkwood's most famous prince lifted his arms in a clear invitation to assist me in mounting my own horse, but I refused, my grasp on Bofur tightening. I swallowed again. No, I'd not be riding solo any time soon. It was hard enough to hide just how much I longed to curl into fetal position and moan.
Legolas's too-seeing eyes swept over me. He frowned but let the matter lie. "Trust Ada, Hwinneth," Legolas said at last. "He does not give his affection lightly." We both ignored the noises of skepticism from my companions, Gloin's the loudest. "You are welcome among us. Belegon says the exact details of your mission must remain secret," and this did not please Legolas at all, "or I would accompany you."
A quick check of my body led me to believe I was not in danger of hurling on him if I moved, so I reached over and placed a hand on his upper arm, ignoring the unhappy expressions on the other faces around me. "Legolas, if there is one elf in all Arda I know I can trust with this, it is you. The only reason I am not asking your assistance is that you are too important."
Legolas stared off into space. "So says our Royal Guard," he said with some frustration. "Yet I am not heir." His eyes returned to me. "I do not like being kept in the dark. Nor, I might add, does my eldest brother."
No, I bet not.
Legolas grumbled something under his breath. Was that Quenya? "I do not trust your companions," he groused in Common.
"Does he speak of us?" Bofur asked with mock surprise, his chest rumbling against my back. "Now I'm hurt. Truly hurt."
A grin tugged at the corners of my lips. To Legolas, I said, "One day, a dwarf will be your best friend."
A scornful look passed over his face. "That, I do not believe."
Beyond him, Bifur gave me a queer look.
"Give it time," I said with forced cheer, the forest's sick energy intensifying until my stomach began to flip-flop in earnest. "I'll remind you of this moment in the future."
"Belegon!" Legolas shouted. The elf in question approached, a black steed following. As the elf saluted, Legolas said, "I tender my brother and new sister into your care."
Belegon nodded soberly. Standing there next to Legolas, the scarring across his cheek looked all the more startling. In a world of perfect elves, I wondered how he handled being the only one so marked.
"We await your return, my friend."
"I will not fail you," Belegon swore.
"You never do," Legolas replied solemnly. "You saved our Caranoran once. I ask you do the same again should the need arise, and for my gwathel." His gaze returned to me. "You mind him, Hwinneth."
"Mind an elf?" Bofur said. "If he's needing tending, perhaps he should remain at home."
Legolas glared up at the dwarf, and Bofur responded with a bright, guileless smile. Goof, I thought, lips curling upwards despite my stomach's miserable gyrations. I'd missed these dwarves, and that was a fact.
Legolas mounted up and gave a signal. "We'll drive any remaining spiders from here and find your hobbit. Do not linger. Caranoran."
Caranoran slipped into the saddle of a horse that looked like ebony in the almost pitch-black conditions. "I will take all care, gwanur. Your tutelage has not been for naught."
Legolas mounted his own steed. "I have every confidence in you," Legolas said. The two clasped forearms in a very macho type of embrace and then ruined it when Legolas hauled his younger brother close for a heartfelt hug.
The rest of the elves mounted in unison and formed up in two rows at Legolas's back. With a last farewell, they trotted off in loose formation.
Leaving us in a glade that shined like a midnight purple, alien planet in my sight.
OoOoOo
They set a brutal pace from the get-go. The black stuff Daphne saw chased them. How, they could not figure out, for Aleks's satyr eyes detected no animals in pursuit. Invisible to the rest of them, they had proof enough of the migration of the Dark Lord's plague by the panic that never quite left her eyes and the debilitating sickness that first emptied her stomach and then kept her unable to eat or drink. As they pressed ever onward, Daph grew progressively shakier.
"I doubt spiders are the worst we will see," Aleks heard the auburn-haired elf, Brethil – one of the three that remained with them – say to Prince Caranoran when they paused long enough to swap Daphne from one horse to another. The strain of even her small weight was enough to tire the horses. None could bear double the entire trip. For this reason, Gloin, too, had to suffer the indignity of riding pillion with elves.
Daphne put her foot down when it came to riding with Aleks, though. Oh, she'd ride with an elf but not her twin. How messed up was that? Aleks had smarted at the insult, but he resolutely held his peace. He understood, really he did, but that didn't mean he liked it.
She didn't sleep. If he had to guess, he'd say she was eavesdropping on the dialog between trees and bushes…though, really, what could plants talk about? Oh, man, wasn't that water something else? He snorted to himself. Either way, that's what he figured she did. Well, that and sneak glances his way, a rabidly gun-shy expression on her face.
On the second day – one only marked by the ticks of his appa's pocket watch – an elf intercepted them with Bilbo in tow. The dwarves made much over the little hobbit, as did Aleks. Daphne cried. Instead of taking time to rejoice over the happy reunion, though, they kept up with their brutal pace.
Time had settled again into an abstract miasma as Mirkwood's perpetual night reigned. The trip took three full days. Long days. The exhausted party broke through the last vestiges of Mirkwood's grasping fingertips with an abruptness startling to behold. Between one step and the next, they traversed from stifling forest to the freedom of the western plains beyond Mirkwood's edge.
And Beorn.