This chapter is late.

My excuse?

Thorin is a very stubborn Dwarf.

The real reason?

I lack self motivation. TT_TT

Sorry.

Thorin scowled into the sunlight as the Company bustled about the courtyard beside Beorn's home. The Skin Changer had been kind enough to lend them a small herd of ponies along with their tack. Gandalf had been provided a spindle legged bay, the human wizard requiring a larger mount.

A soft sound caught his attention, and Thorin turned away from stuffing his saddlebag to see Ilma standing behind him, his neatly folded over-vest in her hands.

Her fingers played nervously with the fur lining as she spoke. "Thank you for letting me borrow this. I don't need it anymore." Indeed, Beorn had provided her with a shirt and trousers, properly clothing her. Thorin took his vest from her, their fingers brushing. Ilma smiled at him, tucking a lock of hair behind one pointed ear and his heart clenched as he realized she was probably going to stay.

And why should she leave?

The only other member of her species was here, and he was more than capable of protecting her. Not that she needed it, of course.

Gandalf drew his mount abreast of them, an odd light in his blue eyes. "Hurry and mount, you fools. We are losing daylight."

Thorin looked at the wizard in surprise as the elf maid dashed away. "She's coming?"

"Should she not?" Gandalf asked. "It is her homeland, and she has been gone a very long time. Besides," he added as she spurred his horse forward. "Navigating an elven forest is far easier with an actual elf along."

Ilma waved to him from atop her white mare and Thorin looked away, sighing. Every time he turned, he half expected her to be gone. Blasted woman knew it, too, and took every opportunity to quell his unease. No doubt this agitation was due to their growing proximity to Thranduil's realm. The idea of seeing that bastard again...

Best not dwell on it.

Trees rose on the horizon, and the entire Company seemed to deflate - with the exception of its non-dwarven members. Gandalf appeared uneasy, and the hobbit looked only curious, but the elf seemed almost giddy, and her mount fair pranced beneath her. Try as he might, he couldn't blame her. This was as much her homecoming as returning to the Lonely Mountain would be his.

The Company dismounted once they reached the forest outskirts, and Thorin had difficulty keeping his pony calm. Not that he could blame the animal. Mirkwood projected an aura of illness and mal intent that was only to be expected from a land of Elves. He was not the only one to notice this.

"Gandalf," Ilma said quietly as she approached the blackened entryway. "What happened here?"

The old wizard sighed, leaning heavily on his staff. "A darkness has been spreading through the land, and Thranduil has done nothing to stop it."

"Well, someone should give him aught for," Bilbo said, equally disgusted with the forest's health.

The elf maiden's delicate fists clenched angrily. "Yes, someone should."

The dwarves began removing their equipment and supplies from their mounts, turning them loose so they could return to Beorn.

"Wait!" Gandalf called, striding purposefully away from the forest. "Not my horse. I need it!"

"You're not leaving us," the hobbit asked incredulously, and Gandalf shook his head sadly.

"I would not do this if there was not great need." The wizard met Thorin's gaze, and a silent understanding passed between them. Whatever Gandalf left to do, it was grave indeed.

"But do not fret, Master Baggins, for I leave you in capable hands. Ilma," he turned to address the elf. "Knows this wood better than even Thranduil himself."

She snorted. "Only because he never leaves the palace."

Gandalf cleared his throat, "Hmm, yes, well. Be that as it may, even your king's rangers would be hard pressed to match your knowledge of the Mir-ah, Greenwood." He hastily corrected himself under her pointed glare. "Surely you can manage to keep thirteen dwarves and a hobbit on a path?"

Ilma looked mournfully into the trees. "Yes," she sighed. "I suppose I can."

"Very good." Gandalf mounted his spindle legged bay. "Whatever may come, stay on the path!"

Thorin shook his head, exasperated with the situation. "Come," he said, turning to enter the forest. "We must reach the mountain before Durin's day-." He was stopped short by Ilma's hand on his chest.

"It would be safer if I lead the way," she turned an oddly serious gaze on the Company. The air here is thick with illusion. If there is any doubt of your allegiance, the trees will lead you astray."

"What about you?"

She smiled down at him, a matronly expression. "I am an elf."

And that answered that.