Disclaimer: The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings and all characters therein are the property of the Tolkien Estate and Wingnut Films. This story is for entertainment only and the author is in no way profiting from it, nor exercising any claims to The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings.
37. Treading the Forest Paths
As the dwarves and their elven guide prepared to resume their interrupted journey the next morning, Thorin found himself being pulled aside by the Brown Wizard, who had been leaning upon his staff watching their activities with a scowl. The old man pressed a small pouch into the king's hand, watching as Thorin opened it to withdraw what looked to be small, hard capsules made from leaves, almost like a cocoon.
"What are these?"
"Medicine, of course." Radagast's nose wrinkled as he looked down on the shorter being as if insulted. "For young Fili. Break one open in hot water in the morning and in the evening until they are gone, and if they make him sick, do not let anyone touch the vomit. Cover it in dried leaves and set it afire. Keep everyone out of the smoke, too, unless you want another infected with that foul stuff."
"No, once was enough. I can only offer my thanks for your aid."
"Watch out for your younger one, as well. You are not out of danger yet, Thorin Oakenshield. And do not place any trust in Thranduil; elves are not as immune to the lure of power as they believe themselves to be, a lesson that one has yet to learn."
That was one warning that Thorin had no need of, though he did not say as much to the Istari. Instead, he gave the old one a solumn nod of leave, taking his position within the party leaving the clearing. At the very least, their unplanned detour to the western section of the forest had brought them past the worst of the tainted areas, allowing Kili to once again travel mounted. The young prince, naturally, had objected that he was finally able to walk, but had been forcibly overruled by his uncle as they wanted to cover ground at speed. One group of their enemy had been destroyed or run-off, true, but there was no telling where more might lurk, and time sped by.
It was already the end of August by the calendar of Men, Durin's Day now only a little over a month away, and they were not quite halfway through Mirkwood. Their current plan was to go straight north through the heart of the forest until they crossed the old road and the mountains, where they would pick up the Black River. They could follow that north until it met with the Forest River, which would take them east toward Erebor. When they reached the edge of the forest, it became a sprint to the mountain under cover of darkness, and a hard climb up the sheltered slopes to the hidden door. Legolas and Thorin had estimated the journey at three weeks, giving them very little excess time for further encounters with the denizens of the forest or their foes. While Mirkwood had supposedly been swept by the armies of Thranduil and Celeborn, there had been time for dark creatures to seek shelter in hidden places that the elves had not found, or to creep back across the lands from where their armies had been defeated at Erebor, Dale, or even Gondor.
The next week, however, provided the company with a welcome monotony of travel and camp, with no sign of further danger beyond the howling of wolves far off in the night. Legolas and Gimli had even come across a deer that had fallen and snapped its neck, providing the dwarves with a hearty meal of venison, which Dwalin had been very vocal about having been lacking. The only sign that all was not well was the lack of tales as they walked or laughter around the campfire at night, though this last night, even that had begun to change.
Bofur, ever sensitive to the morale of the group, had dredged up several old stories of the misadventures he and his brother had gotten into as young lads. Gloin, not to be outdone, had matched his old comrade with the mischief possible to dwarflings growing up in the mighty halls of Erebor, a subject that naturally included one or two involving two princes and a princess that had them all roaring. It was only then that Thorin noticed Fili had joined them, seated between Bofur and his brother.
Fili had been understandably reserved since the incident with the taint, keeping apart from the others at night, with only Bofur or his brother welcome to intrude upon his solitude. Thorin had viewed this with concern until the toymaker took him aside and told his king that the prince was slowly working his way through the memories of what had happened. Of course, several of these caused a good deal of discomfort to Fili, especially as relating to his uncle, so Bofur asked that the king allow his nephew to come to him in his own time and space. Dis, also watching the behavior anxiously, had speculated that perhaps her eldest did not feel himself sufficiently punished for what had occurred, a view that Thorin simply growled at, as he had been known to do the same thing. It was the curse of the responsibility that both he and his heir had been raised with that they were unable to shrug off events as Dis and Kili often did.
The break in Fili's self-imposed shell finally occurred the next night as normal dwarven behavior reasserted itself around the campfire, which meant teasing. Most of the party were seated in a circle relaxing after eating the last of the venison stew, hands occupied with pipes or whittling as was their habit. Fili was once again absent, leaning against a tree just beyond the perimeter of the light. It was not a position that Thorin was comfortable with, but as Nast already stood guard nearby, he was keeping his peace. Just now, Gloin was spluttering at being needled by Dwalin about an incident from the years after the reclaiming of Erebor, something about a pile of dragon dung…
"Your problem is that you never let an incident die, Dwalin. It wasn't even that funny!" Thorin had to smile at the characteristic bluster even as he noted that his white-bearded cousin was casting about for a diversion, lighting on the younger prince. "You know, Thorin, I have two daughters who just turned seventy-seven. The princes will need to marry, with no heirs to Erebor."
Thorin had to stifle a chortle as Kili displayed the innate instinct inherent in all males that alerted them when their bachelorhood was being threatened, dark head bolting up in alarm, eyes wide.
"I don't think that we need to worry about that yet, right, Uncle?"
The last two words came out high pitched and a bit squeaky, rocking the camp with laughter as the prince flushed. Before the teasing could resume, Dis glared at the others while resting a hand on her flustered son's shoulder.
"You need not decide immediately, Kili, but it will have to be addressed."
Thorin grit his teeth, glaring at his sister. He'd not intended to bring up this topic with his nephews until after he had them firmly on the throne of Erebor.
"What about Therin and Lis?"
The others stayed silent, watching the exchange somberly, as their king at last laid bare his thoughts on the matter.
"I will take Therin to be trained as my heir, and I understand from your mother that Lis accepted pledge last year."
"Pledged? To whom?"
The question came quietly from the darkness as Fili entered the firelight, dropping into the spot willingly vacated between his brother and Bofur, pipe in hand. Pledging was the dwarven equivalent of a betrothal, a very serious business for a race that normally married only once in their lives. Part of that very stability came from the tradition of a pledge year in which the two young dwarves would be mentored in married life by their older relatives before actually starting their life together.
"Me, cousin." Gimli's pride and pleasure in that was an almost physical glow, grin so wide it almost split his face. "I exchanged ravens with her while we were still in Minas Tirith, and she has agreed to return south with me in the spring."
Thorin eyed the young red-bearded warrior, having been weighing Gloin's son as they traveled. Yes, he would be a worthy mate for his niece, and the degree of cousinship was no barrier, as it was their respective great-grandfathers who had been brothers, no closer. Legolas, usually silent, brought the king's attention back to the fire as the elf leaned forward with his brow furrowed in mock hurt to regard his dwarven friend.
"You did not tell us you had a lady back home, Gimli!"
"Of course not!" The warrior scoffed, eying the elf warily, "I saw the merciless teasing you lot subjected Aragorn and poor Sam to over Arwen and Rose Cotton! Did you think me foolish enough to volunteer as your next target? I assure you, growing up with these two," A negligent hand waved at Fili and Kili, who wore identical smirks, "I had ample lessons in the virtues of discretion."
"Hey!"
Both princes objected as one, faces morphing into injured innocence that not a one of their audience was buying, mirth erupting once again.
"What of you, Legolas? Do you have an elven lady that you fancy?"
Fili verbally pounced upon their guide before one or more of the older dwarves could resume the previous discussion of marriages. Thorin had to stifle a laugh, noting that his older nephew really could use a few more lessons in discrete subject changes. To be fair, Thorin himself was dismal at such things, usually shutting the conversation down by the most direct of methods – glaring. As the faintest hint of pink was picked up on the elf's pale face, Gimli roared, slapping his knee as he pointed at his friend.
"That's a yes! Good job, cousin, you caught him! Come now, Legolas, tell!"
Seeing the prince shifting around in apparent discomfort at finding himself the center of attention, Thorin actually felt sorry for Legolas. For a moment, anyway.
"It is not so much one that I fancy now as I did when an elfling." That protest went nowhere as the others continued to stare at him, waiting. Legolas grimaced, but gave in with good grace. "I was briefly infatuated with the captain of my father's personal guard, the Lady Tauriel. As was nearly every other male of the Woodland Realm."
"Briefly? What happened?"
Fili questioned, giving his brother a subtle nudge, which earned a thunderous scowl from the brunette. Apparently elves were not the only males to be enchanted by the fiery guard captain, Thorin mused, more amused than angry at the revelation. It was not as if his nephew had any chance of acting upon the infatuation, and the days in Thranduil's dungeon had doubtless done much to teach the younger prince of the treachery one could expect from the Mirkwood elves. Strange, that Thorin no longer associated Legolas with his father, even though the prince had been with the guard captain when the dwarves were captured. That had not been much of a feat, considering the thirteen of them were half unconscious and reeling from spider poison!
"The lass fought decently, for an elf."
Only a pledge of undying love for an elf could have caught Thorin by more surprise than that statement from Dwalin, who was already glaring at his gaping comrades.
"What? She did!"
"Tauriel made a similar assessment of you, Master Dwalin." Legolas' statement probably prevented the situation from deteriorating into a yelling match between Dwalin and whomever was foolhardy enough to tease him about the statement, most likely Gloin or Bofur. "As for my infatuation, I was very young at the time, and it is difficult to maintain such a view after the object of your affection has rather handily defeated you several times in a row on the practice field. Especially when each bout lasted mere moments with many watching."
"That does tend to cool the ardor. I recall my own first lesson-"
A howl broke the night, silencing Dis and instantly bringing hands to weapons as all peered uncertainly into the darkness around them. Unlike previous nights, that animal had sounded fairly close by, though distances were often deceptive in the forest.
"Father? Was that a warg?"
Kifir's quivering whisper sounded more like a shout in the sudden stillness, the normal night noises having stopped as well.
"No, lad, just a wolf. 'Tis unlikely to bother us with the campfire lit."
"Then why are there eyes shining behind Gimli?"
That brought them all to their feet, Kili and Legolas both pulling arrows as they scanned the indicated spot, but whatever the dwarfling had seen was evidently gone. Thorin sheathed his great blade after several minutes, a mute signal to the others to follow suit, and turned back, stirring up the fire.
"Keep a source of fire lit, but hidden, while on watch tonight, and sleep with your weapons handy."
It was not a warning most needed as they began to set up bedrolls with wary glances at the surrounding darkness, no longer in the mood for stories or jokes. While not as intelligent as wargs, the wolves who called Mirkwood home had gained a reputation for ruthlessness over the years, sometimes attacking well armed parties upon the road. Thorin knew this was partially because this section of the forest had been the site of an ongoing skirmish between the elves and the dark creatures of Dol Guldur, leaving plenty for scavengers such as the wolves to grow fat upon. When such easy pickings were not available, however, desperation would drive the creatures to dare much that ordinary wild wolves would not, having had little experience with hunting for their food.
None slept easily that night, but while their rest was frequently broken by howling in the darkness, no attack came. That did not mean that the party had gone unmarked by the scavengers. All who stood watch reported eyes shining around them whenever they unshielded the lantern, and Kili's keen sight instantly spotted tracks left behind in the morning light.
"Can the taint infect animals like it did me?"
Fili's question was hesitant, almost fearful, despite his brother's hand upon his shoulder. There were several sharp looks at the blonde from members of the party, but none challenged the prince. It was the first time that Fili had openly acknowledged what had happened so casually. Legolas stood from where he'd been examining Kili's find.
"It can, but it makes them overly aggressive. They would see enemies where there are none, even as you did."
The older prince grimaced, giving his uncle a rueful glance.
"That's true enough. I remember being angry at the slightest things, striking out without caring who I hurt. At different times, I saw what I thought were orcs, Sarumen, even…an elf."
Thorin crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at his elder sister-son.
"As I recall, Fili, you did not see me as just an elf, but Thranduil himself. It was not a mistake that I believed any would make, let alone my own nephew."
Fili immediately started to become flushed with embarrassment, even the tips of his ears tinged pink before his uncle relented, allowing his lips to twitch, betraying the barest hint of his amusement. Dwalin was the first to pick up on it, letting out a bellowing guffaw as he slapped the unfortunate prince on the back good naturedly. Thorin waited for the laughter to die down before turning back to their guide.
"And if the wolves were affected as Fili was?"
"They would not have hesitated to attack had such been the case, even with the fire blazing. I believe that something else stirs them."
"Keep your guard up today." Thorin allowed his gaze to rove over the group until lighting upon his nephews. "You two stay in the center, with weapons to hand. Go nowhere without Dwalin or I as guard."
Neither prince seemed thrilled with the idea, but they knew better than to argue, taking their appointed places silently. It wasn't long into their march before the first crack of foot stepping on bone had them all mincing along, watching their step while overhead, the remnants of wispy white threads hung from the trees to cling to face and hair as they passed. The first pod of spider silk suspended above stopped them, Legolas making short work of scaling the tree to slice open the offending item. His face was grim when he returned to the ground, those who had been on the quest for Erebor gripping weapons tightly at the macabre reminder of their own near lethal encounter with another of the forest's dark invaders.
"Long dead."
The elf had not yet sheathed his knife, turning to offer the hilt to Bofur, who just frowned at him.
"Even if the spiders have all been killed or run off, we will need to cut through remaining webs. Elven blades are best for such a task, but Kili and I should remain on guard with our bows."
"Aye, that makes good sense." Bofur took the blade, running a thumb lightly over it to check the sharpness as he glanced around. "Gimli, it looks as if it will be up to us, lad."
The red haired warrior had already drawn the twin to the weapon the toymaker now held, eying the surrounding forest warily.
"No." Thorin grasped Orcrist's hilt, drawing the great blade, then retrieved a dagger from his belt, holding it out toward Dwalin. "It will be quicker with four cutting if needed. Nast, you and Gloin have rear guard. Dis, stay near Kifir and your sons."
Dwalin, meanwhile, had taken the offered blade from his friend only to freeze, eyes widening in shock as he drew it.
"'Tis mithril!"
Gimli whispered in awe as the others crowded around.
"It's more than that, cousin," Kili breathed, one finger lightly tracing the engraving. "It's Durin's blade. Legend says that it was lost in the fall of Moria!"
"Legends are often wrong, Kili." Thorin's stern admonishment brought their attention to the dagger's owner. "Come, we should not linger here."
Perhaps a quarter mile further along, they encountered the first of the webs actually stretching across their path, the four designated dwarves quickly going to work on the heavy sticky strands. It was slow, but the extremely sharp elven blades proved equal to the task, parting the webbing much more easily than when the dwarves had tried on their original journey through the woods. It was just as well, too, as in several places there were multiple layers of old webs left strung across the path they wished to take. More than once, they encountered the decaying husks of the former owners, as well, the elven warriors' work plain to see in severed limbs and headless bodies. The first several times they had come across such things, all had been wary, as if expecting the massive arachnid to suddenly return to life, but by the second hour, they were not as concerned. Perhaps that was why none proceeded with caution when they spotted yet another carcass, legs folded underneath, sitting directly in their path. Thorin was almost directly in front of it when the creature's body shuddered, head turning ever so slightly toward him.
"I feel your tread upon the earth, come to put an old blind creature out of her misery."
The words were paper thin and barely audible, slurring in the effort it took for her mandibles to produce common speech. Behind him, Thorin could hear the scrambling of bodies as the others positioned themselves for attack, but he dared not look away from the old spider in front of him. A tap upon his shoulder signaled that he was clear to take a step back, out of the reach of those pincer-like jaws.
"Were we to do so, your kin would not stop seeking vengeance."
He answered her, unwilling to fall once more to the cunning of the beasts. The laugh he received in return sent a shiver up his spine.
"I have no kin left, heavy walker. The filthy elves have seen to that! I have not felt the vibrations of one of your kind within the forest since I was newly hatched. Tell me, did you bring another of the cursed ones with you as well?"
"I do not know of what you speak."
Behind him, the king could hear the others carefully skirting the beast and knew he must keep its attention. They could easily kill the thing, but if others of its nesting remained, they would feel its death and respond with madness. Far better to avoid a fight and let time finish the work.
"Long ago now, it came unseen, taunting with song and stealing our meals. We tried to stop it, but so many of my sisters died under its sharp sting instead. We hunted the heavy walkers once more, but when we had cornered our morsels yet again, the elves came and stole them."
"I think its referring to Bilbo. I remember hearing him singing as he cut us loose last time."
Fili's whisper confirmed the suspicion growing in Thorin's own mind as a second tap on the shoulder let him know the others were clear. It was only when he was a good distance past the thing that the older dwarf turned, letting out his breath in a rush of relief he saw echoed by Gloin.
"Foul creatures." His white-bearded cousin shuddered, "Let's not wait for its kin."
"There should be no more, Master Dwarf. Lord Celeborn vowed that the southern forest was well-scoured."
Legolas had not put away the arrow he held at ready on his bow, however.
"Given what else we've encountered in this forest, Master Elf, you'll forgive my lack of trust in that."
It was telling that their guide did not challenge or take offense at that statement.