More of the company than one had heard the expression that first impressions could be deceiving at least once in their lives; however, where Mirkwood was concerned, first impressions held true. The forest was just as dank and unpleasant as it had first appeared, possibly even more so as the canopy, which had appeared sparse on the edge, was actually impossibly dense and blocked nearly all the light from above. Following the path, defined though it was, was difficult due to the permanent twilight all times, shadows seemed to move in the periphery. Even the most experienced among them could not say for certain if the shadows were real creatures, tricks of the light, or figments of their minds. A fact made worse by the fact that, at the last moment, Gandalf had declared that he had business to attend to and would not be accompanying them into the forest. The fact that even a wizard would not enter the wood made them wonder just what foul beast dwelled within.

Worse still was when night fell and the dim light of day faded to pitch blackness that even the dwarves' keen eyes were having difficulty penetrating. They had learned the first night that fire did nothing to alleviate the situation. Instead, it drew giant moths and reflected off the eyes in the darkness, revealing the shadows of day to be malevolent creatures that watched and waited for their chance to strike. So it was that they set watches each night to warn of attack, though they all knew that in the darkness their only warning would be the scream of one of their own after the attack had been launched. Even knowing that it was futile, the only way any of them got what little sleep they did was with the knowledge that someone was watching the company. Those that did sleep, slept as close to the others as they could, seeking comfort in the proximity of others.

All, that is, save Fíli and Thorin. They slept apart from the group, Thorin due to the pain other bodies pressing against his own would cause his wounds and Fíli because, with the exception of Bilbo, he wasn't entirely certain who he could trust to be so near him while he slept. He knew that it was foolish to take his chances with the beasts of Mirkwood rather than to allow his kin to shelter him, but he couldn't help it. He had tried the first night to sleep with the company but the feeling of so many people so close when he wasn't certain what he might say or do in his sleep . . . He had been awake the entire night, lying in the darkness and listening to the sounds of the creatures of Mirkwood and the shifting of the company as they too tried to rest. Every time he nearly drifted off, one of the others would move against him and jolt him awake, starting the process once second night, he had situated himself slightly apart from the others. He still had difficulty sleeping, the noises of the night and his own mind keeping him awake. However, he did get more rest than the night before.

Despite the poor sleep and oppressive forest, most of the company were still in good spirits during the early days of the all, there was only so long a body could maintain a state of constant vigilance before growing accustomed to the environment. For most, this was a relief. Once they grew more at ease, Bofur, Bilbo and Nori continued a running train of jokes and quips that forced even Thorin to smile on occasion. One moment in particular involved Bilbo and one of the dark squirrels that darted above the path, the latter startling the hobbit by chucking an acorn at his head from the darkness.

"See, Dori?" Nori had called. "There are other creatures with less sense than us. That thing actually lives here."

"At least we have slightly more sense than a squirrel," Bofur had muttered. Thorin chuckled darkly at that, wondering if they truly did. At least the squirrel had been content to live where it did, dismal though it was, with its kin and hadn't led them halfway across the world to their ruin. He was broken from his dark thoughts by a triumphant cry and turned to find Ori holding the offending squirrel aloft by its tail, having felled it with his sling shot. Thorin watched as the young dwarf practically glowed under the praise and pats of the company for providing dinner. At least someone is gaining something from the quest, he thought with a sad look at his somber nephews before turning and following the path once more.

As much as he would have liked to speak with them, things between the royal family were still stilted and tense. While fine when speaking with most of the company, if more than one of them was involved, things became overly polite and stiff. All three of them reluctant were to say or do anything that might be perceived as offensive by any of the others. However, tact was not an inherent trait of their family, leading to more than one attempt at conversation that ended in awkward silence for all involved.

It was particularly fresh in his mind as just the night before the company had found a small patch of moonlight and, attempting to unwind before bed, had been trading songs and tales in the semi-darkness. At a lull, Fíli had turned from the group, his blue eyes and beads reflecting the moonlight.

"Won't you join us, Uncle," he asked softly, attempting to include his uncle, who had seemed even more sad and distant than he ever had before since Beorn's.

Thorin considered the request for a moment before taking a breath and feeling the now familiar catch in his chest. With that he shook his head.

"I . . . I can't, Lad," he muttered, hating to turn down so simple a request but knowing that singing or storytelling was still beyond him. Just the act of walking up a small grade was enough to make his vision dim, it would be impossible for him to sing or speak for an extended time.

"Your vow," Fíli sighed. Scoffing at himself for his stupidity. "I forgot that you swore not to sing again until we regained our home. Forgive me, Uncle." Everything within Thorin screamed for him to tell his nephew the truth. To say aloud that he had forgotten that statement in the wake of what had followed and that there was another cause. The explanation was at the back of his throat, pounding for release, but he couldn't bring himself to admit such a weakness to the entire company, his pride as a dwarf refusing to allow it.

"You were forgiven before you asked, Lad," he said instead. After all, he reasoned, there was never anything to forgive.

The group was silent for a moment, no one seeming certain how to begin again. Eventually it was broken by Glóin.

"Time to turn in, lads, don't you think?" he asked. There were grumbles of agreement followed by shuffling as they settled in for the night. Fíli volunteered for the first watch and, shocking them all, Kíli joined him. They sat in silence, watching the edge of the moonlight for any sign of movement until all sounds of shuffling faded and snores replaced them.

"Fíli, I need you to do something for me," Kíli said softly, breaking the silence.

"We're on watch, Kíli," the elder sighed. "We need to stay focused."

"I won't take but a second," the younger muttered. "And then we'll go right back to watching." Fíli said nothing, taking in the quiet night, broken by nothing other than the snores of their companions and the normal nocturnal noises of the forest, before he replied.

"What is it?" he finally asked, hoping that by allowing his brother to ask he wasn't putting the rest of the company in danger.

"I need you to have a look at my back," Kíli replied. "I was feeling better but . . . It hurts more now than it has for over a week. It almostburns, Fíli. I should be fine by now. Uncle's fine and his wounds were worse than mine."

"No, he's not," Fíli cut in softly. "He's not fine. He's in more pain than he lets on. His gait is stiff and he still holds his arms too close to his body. He's not 'fine' Kíli."

"Still," Kíli argued, a bit irritated with himself that he hadn't noticed that as well, "he's not getting worse. I think I am. Fíli, I've seen what infection can do. What-what if they're getting infected?"

"Kíli, bruises don't get infected," Fíli sighed, shocked by just how terrified his brother sounded at the prospect. "Now, don't misunderstand, I don't doubt they hurt. Possibly more than they have before. I'm not saying that but . . . this forest . . . It, it enhances fears, Kíli. I doubt they're actually infected, you just . . . you remember what happened to Uncle and in the dark . . . it . . . you'll be fine, though. But if you'd like I can check your back when we wake the next group for watch before we go to bed." Kíli wanted to retort that bruises didn't bleed either and his had but he couldn't see where he had anything to gain from arguing the matter with his brother. And while he wanted someone to look at his wounds for him, he didn't want everyone doing it. It was that reason that he had waited until the others had gone to sleep to ask. And after all, Fíli was probably right. It had been too long since the initial injury to worry about infection.

"You're right," Kíli muttered. "I'll be fine. Thank you, Fíli." With that they drifted into silence until it was time to wake the next watchers. For the first time in ages, however, the silence was not an stilted one but, rather, nearly companionable.

ooOO88OOoo

So sorry it's been so long. I've just been terribly busy between balancing work, a toddler, a pregnancy, buying a house and orchestrating a move. And then I show up with a short chapter. I do promise that the next one is in the works and things are beginning to look like there is a light at the end. And hopefully I can get a new chapter out much sooner. Thank you for those of you that are still here and welcome to anyone brave enough to jump in.

Stickdonkeys