Chapter 6: The Elven Entrance
Gailien fiddles with her new beaded braid. That morning Thorin announced they would be leaving in a few hours – with Beorn patrolling to give them a head start against the Orcs and Gailien quickly had a cold bath in the metal tub while the Dwarves had breakfast. With her hair brushed and clean, she braided her hair along her head for a few inches before it became loose with the rest of her hair. The silver bead is clasped at the end, holding the piece together and she can't help but grin as her thumb brushes of the imprinted design. It is mostly a Dwarvish style pattern, with a different symbol in the middle. Possibly a rune of some sort but she only just noticed it and has not yet had the chance to ask.
Breaking from her spell, she ties her hair back behind her head and stands from her beadroll and begins rolling it back up. The rest of her things are already packed away so all that is needed to do is tie the roll down.
Kili wanders back over to her, handing her an apple and slice of bread. "You missed breakfast," he says.
"Thank you," she grins. "Don't know what I would do without you. Actually, I do. I know that I wouldn't have to hide my nuts deep in my pack. I could have had those instead." She gives him a playful glare.
"That was Fili," he defends through a struggling smile. Even if Gailien hadn't seen him do so, the lie is so pathetic that a deaf man could hear it.
"Kili, I watched you," she drawls. Kili's defensive posture drops, but a shameless smile stays planted. "Are we leaving soon?"
Kili nods, looking over his shoulder back to where the other Dwarves congregate. "In a few minutes, I think." Gailien picks her pack off the floor, heaving it over her shoulders. "Ah, so Thorin gave you the bead," he intones.
Gailien beams, her fingers reaching back to find it amongst her tied hair. "Yes. It's beautiful. I won't lie, it feels a little strange to receive a gift from royalty when I had nothing to give in return."
"A gift?"
Kili - to her own confusion - seems perplexed at her choice of words. He stares at the bead, tracing his eyes over the pattern. What else would it be considered besides a gift? "Yes," she confirms. "He didn't ask for any favours or money and correct me if I'm wrong – but is that not a gift?"
Kili shakes his head, a small smile reaching his lips. "No, you're right. I have to talk to Fili." Kili walks back to the congregated Dwarves, leaving Gailien's eyes to follow him silently. She drops her hair again, readjusting her pack and slowly makes her way to the group.
Beorn returns from a scout, assuring them that the Orcs are far away enough to give them a good head-start. The tall, kind man has allowed them to borrow his horses and there are no objections (even from Bilbo) as they know that on foot, they will barely make a league before the Orcs are upon them.
Gailien knows exactly where they are headed but the knowledge has been suppressed until this day. They are headed for Mirkwood. A place she never intended to return to, yet now she is preparing to ride directly to it. It is a dangerous path to take, even for her. She will no doubt be the only member with any sort of resistance to the dark magic seeping through the forest, but it is just that – resistance, not immunity. She too will feel the effects on the mind if they stay in there too long.
As she finishes tying her thigs to the paint horse, something else jumps into her thought. Leaving the creature to eat the grass, she saunters through the mazes of horses and Dwarves until she finds Thorin who is conversing with Gandalf. They notice her arrival and pause their conversation.
"Is something wrong, my dear?" Gandalf questions, leaning on his staff. The middle of Thorin's brows twitches slightly. Gailien realises that her face must hold a troubled expression, so she relaxes it not wanting to add to the already growing tension of their leader.
"Not exactly anything wrong," she answers coyly. "But I just remembered: in the forest, I won't be able to have any visions. It messes with the mind and even if I do manage to see anything, it cannot be trusted."
"You said you are from Mirkwood," Thorin says. "Will you be able to help lead us through?"
It has been many years since she has stepped even this close to it, and she was a young Elf even then. But there is one rule to those who do not know the forest well or are not of Elven blood – stick to the path.
"Even if I wasn't, I would be the best to lead. Whatever Elvish blood I carry will give me some resistance to whatever poisons the air and trees." She half turns, looking back over the company. "One of the most important things we need to remember is to stick together. We can't split off, even to look for food."
"Gailien is correct," Gandalf notes. "There will be a path that you must not leave, or you will never find it again."
Thorin nods, taking the sincerity and solemness in both of their words of wisdom. "Thank you," he says to Gailien, resting a hand on her arm before turning to the rest of the company. "Mount up! We're leaving!"
Gailien retreats back to her own horse, meeting eyes with Beorn and bows her head in thanks for all that he has offered. She passes Bilbo, not missing his eyes' piercing glare at his mount. "We'll reach the forest in no time," she assures him, even offering a light laugh as she pats his leg.
"If we reach the forest," Bilbo responds mournfully, scanning the perimeter as though the Orcs or wargs will appear at any moment.
"Of course we will," she counters. "I've seen it."
Though it is a lie – which she feels guilty for, Bilbo's face does relax, and a few lines of worry melt back into taught skin of youth. Up until this point, she has been (almost) completely honest with everything that she has seen and Thorin's trust in her never wavered and even though she considers the lie needed for Bilbo's sake, her own eyes now cannot stop from looking out as Bilbo's did.
She wishes she could have seen anything, but nothing had come to her last night. And that is neither a good thing nor bad. Mounting her own steed, the company settle into their saddles, checking their packs and equipment are securely tied down.
Gandalf and Thorin give their thanks to Beorn. If she survives this quest, she knows that she will visit Beorn. Perhaps just to taste his honey-cakes once more, but he seemed to enjoy her company and she found an odd comfort in his – even if his bear form is intimidating. Maybe Bilbo would like to as well if he takes her up on her offer to escort him where he needs to return.
Making haste, they begin galloping away from Beorn's Hall, their packs full of enough food to last at least two weeks. The trip through Mirkwood should take as long – if they stick to the path and do not run into any trouble but she doubts fate will be that kind to them.
They ride over green hills and once again, Gailien wishes that she could take the time to enjoy the beauty of Middle Earth but there is no such time to waste. Not even enough time to make conversation with any of the other members as their steeds stay galloping and cantering, only slowing down to a walk when absolutely necessary.
Though their speed pays off and by the late afternoon, they arrive on the flat plans that lie just before Mirkwood's forest begins. The dense trees sit on the other side of the field, going as far as the eye can see in either direction.
Not one soul in the company feels at ease as they arrive at the front – not even Gandalf. Beorn had given them all a warning about the forest, about the evil lurking inside. And about the Elves. "They are less wise and more dangerous," he had said. A few eyes had darted to her, but she only shrugged in agreement.
Gandalf has led them to the Elven road entrance where the old stone has grass peeking through the cracks. The front trees are old, leafless and dark. Once the night falls, they would resemble gangly hands reaching out through the darkness and the anticipation of the eeriness sends a shiver down her spine.
The company stay mounted while Gandalf walks forward through the entrance, gazing around it. "The Elven Gate," he muses. "Here lies our path through Mirkwood."
"No sign of the Orcs. We have luck on our side," Dwalin growls, already dismounting. Gailien sucks her lips, tossing her head over her shoulder again, watching the horizon behind them. Nothing. Beorn must have helped them more than she thought.
She dismounts with the rest of the company, petting the horse's neck. "Set the ponies loose," Gandalf instructs. "Let them return to their master."
Bilbo walks forward slowly, eyeing the forest with hesitancy. "This forest feels sick, as if a disease lies upon it."
"That because it does," Gailien muses mournfully, untying the straps on her horse. "It used to be called Greenwood, but something happened and now anything that lives in there is slowly darkened until it becomes what are you looking at now." Bilbo grimaces, flickering his eyes between the woman and trees. "But unfortunately, it is the only path that will ensure we reach the mountain in time. Unless you would rather travel an extra two hundred miles north."
Leaving the Hobbit to contemplate, Gailien fiddles around with her things, making sure everything that she may need is in easy reach, her blades at her side. Content, she shifts her attention to the two brothers.
"Are you boys ready?" she asks with a small sigh.
"As ready as we'll ever be heading into an Elf infested forest," Fili growls before dropping his face as he looks at her. "No offence."
"Trust me, I have the same thoughts," she drawls. "Just…make sure you stick with the company. If you even feel like you're beginning to fall behind, yell out. You both mean a lot to mean and it will kill me if anything happens because we weren't careful enough. I've already warned Thorin, but no matter how desperate we are, we cannot leave the path or separate and I need you to promise me that you won't."
Fili ad Kili nod with wide eyes. "We will," Fili promises.
"Yeah, no need to worry about us," Kili laughs, trying to ease the tension as he normally does.
Gailien manages a small smile, placing a hand on eithers' cheek. "You two are something else." And truly, never before has she met anybody with spirits like there's. She had decided a while ago, but she knows that she would do anything for either of them, absolutely anything. And that is a dangerous type of love to have for somebody. Although willing, she is scared to think of the lengths she will go to.
"We'll take that as a compliment," Fili laughs, his own hand reaching up to lay over hers. She sometimes forgets that Fili is the heir to the throne. A future king. It isn't that he doesn't act like one, but his humble and nurturing nature is at the front of his character.
Gandalf announces that he is, once again, leaving the company to attend matters elsewhere. No one is truly surprised at his sudden absence, though Bilbo does express his distress. It does worry Gailien slightly, knowing that he would have been helpful through the forest but even Gandalf the Grey is not immune to whatever sickness lies within the roots.
"I'll be waiting for you at the overlook, before the slopes of Erebor," he says. "Keep the map and key safe. Do not enter the mountain without me." He mounts his dark horse. "This is not the Greenwood of old, the very air of the forest is heavy with illusion that will seek to enter your mind and lead you astray."
"Lead us astray?" Bilbo questions. "What does that mean?"
"You must stay on the path, do not leave it. If you do, you'll never find it again." With that as his last warning to the company, his rides off to wherever he intends to be.
Gailien strides to the front of the company, coming beside Thorin and Dwalin. The path is only a few feet in front of her and her jaw clenches just looking down at it. "Keep your ears and eyes open, but don't trust them for a moment," she warns the pair. "It will take a while for the forest to affect me, but if it does…don't be afraid to quite literally slap sense into me."
"I will not be laying a hand on you," Thorin frowns.
"You might have to."