It took the better part of a month of travel upon horseback, but at last, Avalain found herself at the entrance to Mirkwood. She sighed as she gazed upon the darkened trees, saddened by the gloomy change that had befallen them. She had braved a thunder battle in the Misty Mountains, evaded a troop of goblins, and rode night and day to make it here…

She opened the map of Mirkwood that her father had given her. After only a simple glance she knew this was indeed the Elven Road that she needed to follow. The path beneath her feet, however, was all but invisible—it was clear she would need to dismount her faithful horse, Belutha, and lead herself and her steed on foot.

Avalain clucked her tongue and glanced at Belutha. The horse's silver fur would surely stick out in such a darkened wood; that could be both a blessing and a curse. Placing a hand on the horse's snout, Avalain murmured, "Are you ready to brave the darkness of the woods, mellon?"

Belutha answered with a snort.

"Neither am I," sighed the She-Elf, but she gently took the reins and pulled Belutha after her.

The moment they passed the threshold of the wood, the sickly-sweet stench of death and decay infiltrated Avalain's senses. She gazed around at the falling trees and crumpled leaves; brown, cracked, burned and cut.

Once, those trees had been home to many forest animals—but now, they were dead, and all was silent.

Belutha seemed to notice the gloom too; she whinnied uncomfortably and shook her head.

Avalain pat her snout and softly shushed her. "We cannot afford to be noticed here. We do not know what now lingers in the shadows."

The horse snorted again, but was then silent.

For hours, Avalain traveled through the woods, keeping a sharp eye on the Elven Road beneath her feet, the thought of seeing Legolas and possibly—or rather, impossibly—Fili spurring her onwards.

She knew that the Company of Thorin Oakenshield had either passed through or was currently within the clutches of Mirkwood… and she could not help but worry about the Dwarves. The thick air and lack of sunlight would be enough to drive anyone into deliriousness. Even she was growing lightheaded…

Avalain was unsure how long she had been walking, but at last, she warranted that it was time for a rest. She looked down to confirm she was still on the Elven Road—then she sighed and sat on a rotting trunk next to the pathway.

The She-Elf looted her pack and grabbed a loaf of bread, tearing into it without restraint. Halfway through her meal, she realized it would be wise to ration her portions… and so, reluctantly, she stowed the remainder of it back into her pack. She did, however, grab an apple from her knapsack and offer it to her horse, who munched noisily on the treat.

After another moment, Avalain knew it was time to press onward. Time was precious here, and the sooner she reached King Thranduíl's borders, the better.

Hours upon hours passed. It seemed that the entire wood now looked the same; Avalain was all but convinced that she was not going anywhere; it felt as if she was walking in place. The air was growing thinner—she had to take deeper breaths than before, she was feeling so constrained.

Behind her, Belutha was also on edge: her ears twitched nervously, and the mare's eyes darted back and forth, as if she sensed something watching them.

Avalain grew increasingly worried that this was the case; in this accursed forest, her vision was growing fuzzy.

Finally, the She-Elf decided it was time to turn in for the night. She could hardly see in the gathering darkness, and at this point, the only thing she would succeed in doing would be getting lost.

"All right, Belutha, mellonlin," murmured Avalain. "It is time to rest."

The horse snorted and immediately sat down, her eyes lulling sleepily.

As the horse began to snore, the She-Elf gazed over the map in her hand. She could only guess that she'd passed through a third of the woods this day, seeing as she had remembered more of the woods than she'd expected despite the challenges that came with travelling through it.

She smiled and leaned back as memories of the wood flooded her mind: she remembered climbing the trees with Legolas, and learning about the stars from King Thranduíl. She also recalled the day that she and Legolas had wandered off without permission and gotten stuck in the bog a few leagues out—a raw laugh escaped her as she recollected the King's rage when he'd been forced to go and fetch them.

After another moment, Avalain decided it was time to regain some of her own strength. She gazed around one more time. The surrounding darkness made seeing difficult… but her vision was not impaired to the point that she missed the leather pouch that was on the ground just a few feet away from her.

Avalain's eyes shot open, her tiredness forgotten. She crawled forward and snatched the pouch from the ground—just looking at it for a second, she was certain that was Dwarvish craftsmanship.

A light sparked in her heart. The Dwarves had passed this way…

She gingerly opened the pouch to see that there were some leaves inside: tobacco leaves.

The She-Elf sighed and leaned back against the trunk she was sitting against. Those Dwarves loved their tobacco, she was certain they wouldn't have simply dropped it unless they didn't notice it was gone.

It was entirely possible the claustrophobic atmosphere of the Mirkwood had addled their brains…

"Oh, Fili," Avalain heard herself sigh, "I wish I knew if you were safe."

And with those words, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

As soon as the light crept back through the tops of the trees, Avalain awoke. Impatient to set off again, she roused Belutha, ate a hasty breakfast, and continued onward.

Now that she had received a clue to the Dwarves' whereabouts and gotten a relatively good nights' sleep, her head felt much clearer than before. At least she knew that Fili and the others had been this way… the thought was more uplifting than she'd thought it would be.

The forest was significantly brighter than the day before; Avalain chose to interpret that as a good omen. Even though there was a long way to go, she knew that each step she took was one step closer to the borders of the Wood-Elves.

Before long, hours passed. It felt like Avalain had hardly moved anywhere; but as she glanced around and took deep breaths and truly observed her surroundings, she found that she was indeed closer to her destination. She began to recognize a few familiar signs: a specific knot in a mulberry tree, the archway of branches above a small pond… she was no more than a half-day's journey away.

As the sun began slowly sinking across the horizon, Avalain's dizziness returned. She discovered that the darkness contributed to the fogginess of the wood. As much as it pained her, she knew that she needed to stop before too much longer, less she lose the pathway beneath her feet.

With a sigh, she turned to Belutha and declared, "Let us rest for the night."

A snort, and then the horse flopped down to the ground.

Avalain smiled endearingly at her companion and began to lightly run her fingers through the horse's mane. The past six weeks, the horse had been working tirelessly to escort Avalain to Mirkwood, and now that they were so close to their destination, the fatigue was clearly catching up to her.

Feeling a pang of guilt, Avalain leaned her forehead against her horse's—

A sudden noise made her jolt up and squint out into the darkness. Scurrying towards her from where they had come were fuzzy… creatures.

Avalain gasped and jumped to her feet.

"Belutha, noro lim!" she cried. She didn't know what those things were, but the panic she felt deep in her chest told her that they intended to attack.

Her horse, hearing the distress behind her mistress's voice, darted up and allowed Avalain to saddle her before darting off into the darkness.

The creatures scuttled after them—the She-Elf could hear the leaves on the ground crunching underneath many legs.

Fleeing in the dark turned out to be incredibly problematic—it was full dark, Avalain could hardly see. She was relying on memory and hearing only as her vision had not adjusted to the pitch-blackness.

Avalain cried out as something sticky wrapped around her shoulders and neck. Panicked gasps escaped her as her hands only got caught in whatever-it-was that now covered her—even as she struggled, a sharp branch cut against her collarbone, tearing some of the skin away. A warm spout of blood blossomed over her chest.

The horse seemed to note the pain that Avalain was undergoing, and neighed and put on a burst of speed. Fortunately, Belutha's eyesight seemed to have adjusted, and she nimbly navigated the deceased foliage that surrounded them.

At last, after what was only a minute or two but felt like an hour, the scuttling sound behind them dissipated. Noting that the danger had largely passed, Belutha slowed to a stop and allowed Avalain to dismount.

The She-Elf immediately yanked a knife out from her knapsack and began carefully cutting away the sticky threads that enwrapped her. It was only once she looked at them, fully and truly, that she realized what had been chasing them.

"Spiders," she whispered. "Giant spiders."

A great shudder ascended her spine. She'd never had any love for arachnids.

Avalain sighed and placed one hand over her heart, and the other on Belutha's snout. She recognized how indebted she was to her horse, who seemed to be trembling after such a frightful flight.

"We'll be in King Thranduíl's halls soon," promised the woman, closing her eyes. "I'll make sure he gives you all the hay you could ever want, mellon."

Belutha snorted softly and seemed comforted.

Within the next number of minutes, Belutha was snoring softly once again—but Avalain could not sleep. Not now… she had realized that in their desperation to escape the spiders, they had lost the path. She had no idea how they would find their way to Thranduíl's halls now…

Avalain allowed her horse to rest for a number of hours, even resting until an hour after the sun's full light crept through the trees.

Once they both were fed and watered, Avalain was not quite sure where to turn. For a little while, they turned around, hoping against hope that the path was not too far away… but after three hours or so had passed, the She-Elf was forced to recognize that her strategy was getting them nowhere.

It was clear that she would not find the path again.

For the first time since she had left Rivendell, Avalain allowed herself to truly despair. If she was unable to find the Elven Road, it was likely that in the dead forest, she and Belutha would be lost for good.

So she simply pressed onward.

And for a third day in a row, hours passed. The closeness of the forest began to cloud Avalain's head and judgment, only thickening her feelings of dread and despair. She longed to keep that optimism that Fili had once said he so adored in her, but with her current situation… she simply couldn't find it.

Just as Avalain was about to give up hope, however, a strange sound entered her ears. It was a loud cry, one that sounded vaguely humanoid—

And then a warning followed it.

"Kili, behind you!"

Avalain gasped and whirled towards the sound, beginning to jog in the direction of the shout. It could be Kili, it could be the Dwarves, she might have finally found someone—

Monstrous shrieks pierced the air from all sides.

The She-Elf whirled around to see that three large spiders had appeared behind her, pincers extended and black eyes glittering. She shrieked and withdrew her sword and knife from the sheath at her hip to prepare to fend them off.

Belutha whinnied and sprang to action, kicking at one of the spiders with her hind legs, doing everything she could to prevent it from reaching Avalain. The She-Elf had her hands full with dealing with the other two—they were circling around her, attempting to flank her.

This was the first true fight that Avalain had ever taken place in, and the experience was not something she wanted to repeat. Although she had trained with the sword and the bow, that training did nothing to prepare her for fighting off a creature that would kill her. It was only by pure instinct that Avalain managed to dodge the pincers and the hairy legs of the first spider when it lunged at her—she gasped and ducked underneath it before stabbing its underbelly with her knife.

The spider promptly crumpled to the ground, her knife still stuck in its carcass.

Avalain stared at it for the briefest of moments, stunned by the fact that it was dead… but she was forced back to reality as the second spider lunged as well.

The She-Elf gasped and began to run towards the sound of battle just ahead of her. Somewhere there, the Dwarves were also fighting for their lives, and she wanted to be able to see them, to help them—

A familiar scuttling sound. She knew the spiders were following her. Based on the stamping of hooves, she knew that Belutha was keeping up, too.

At last, after a minute or two of adrenaline-powered sprinting, Avalain laid eyes on them. The Dwarves were there, in a clearing a hundred feet ahead of her, fighting against a clan of spiders that had surrounded them. Somehow, in the midst of it all, she spotted a head of dirty-blond hair, two swords in his hands—

Fili.

Another loud shriek forced Avalain to look back—the two remaining spiders were standing there, clicking their pincers together, beginning to spread out and circle around her once again.

"Fili!" cried Avalain, desperate to reach him. But she knew she couldn't, the spiders had her at a disadvantage now, there was nowhere she could go…

Realizing that she had to go on the offensive to progress, Avalain lunged forward and stabbed at one of the spiders. She managed to nick its leg—a horrific squeal exited its mandibles, a sound of knives scraping against knives. She winced as its cry echoed through the trees, but followed up on her attack.

This time, her blade struck through one of its eyes—the spider reared back and began to flee in the opposite direction of herself and the Dwarves—

And before Avalain could do anything about the third spider, it lunged forward and enclosed its pincers into her side.

Avalain screamed as her side burst into pain. She felt immediately dizzy, worse than she had when she had been travelling the last three days, and her side felt like it was burning… but she knew the fight wasn't over.

Belutha whinnied and struck the spider atop the head—Avalain followed up on the attack with a swift strike in between its pincers.

The spider released her and shrieked, that horrible scraping sound. The shrieking was replaced with a spine-chilling gurgle as the spider collapsed on the ground, dark ichor spreading out across the forest floor.

The She-Elf exhaled and slowly turned around. She saw that the fight in the clearing was over, and Fili was looking around, his face white as a ghost. He didn't seem to see her—she stumbled forward desperately, still trying to reach the clearing…

Even as she walked forward, Wood-Elves appeared in the clearing, demanding that the Dwarves relinquish their weapons. It might have just been Avalain's deluded mind, but she could've sworn that commanding the Elves was none other than Legolas, her best friend, the person she'd missed the most in the world for the past fifteen years—

Summoning all the strength she had left, she cried, "Legolas!"

Now all the Dwarves and Elves seemed startled. They looked around wildly—Avalain continued to stumble forward, clutching at her bleeding side.

Each step she took made her breath grow shallower. Each step she took made her grow more lightheaded.

But each step she took was one step closer—to Legolas and to Fili.

It was Fili who found her first. His brown eyes grew wide, and his face grew even paler, if that were even possible.

"No, no, no," he whispered, stumbling forward and ignoring the warning of the Wood-Elves that were attempting to restrain him. "It can't be possible, it isn't, you're not here, you're in Rivendell…"

Legolas followed the Dwarf's line of sight and swallowed. Even from so far away, the She-Elf somehow heard him whisper, "Avalain."

She couldn't say anything. She simply held out a hand, knowing that she had exhausted the last of her strength.

Her greatest friend rushed forward and grabbed her—she promptly collapsed against him. She placed an arm around his neck and murmured, "Legolas, mellonlin, thank the Valar I've found you…"

"Avalain, what happened?" he exclaimed, his eyes scanning her body. She knew he saw the scratches across her arms, the nasty cut against her collarbone. But she didn't remove her hand from her side.

She swallowed and somehow managed to respond. "Lost the path. Spiders… coming to find you."

His blue eyes landed on the ground beneath her—he noted the blood beginning to pool upon it. Slowly, ever so slowly, his gaze travelled upward to where her hand was clasped tightly against her skin, and her fingers were stained red.

The Elf swallowed, his eyes bright as he whispered, "Move your hand."

Avalain blinked, restraining tears, but did as he asked. The moment she did so, she heard a voice shout, "NO!"

She looked over and saw Fili, staring in shock. He tried to rush forward, but the Wood-Elves stopped him.

"Release me!" he demanded, attempting to shove them away.

They didn't budge.

Legolas shot Avalain a confused glance, but she didn't see it. Her eyes were solely on her Dwarf's face, longing to tell him how much she'd missed him… but all she could croak was, "Fili…"

The Wood-Elves looked amongst themselves, obviously confused about what to do.

"Get me a horse," commanded Legolas, his voice tight. He looked back to his men and noted that no one was moving to obey—his eyes flared with anger and panic as he repeated, "Someone get back to the palace and get me a horse!"

Avalain gently laid a hand upon his face and, having gathered his attention again, pointed back to the clearing she had emerged from. At the edge of the trees stood Belutha, whose tail was flicking back and forth nervously.

Legolas looked at Avalain, swallowed, and nodded. Softly, he murmured, "Let's get you to the palace. You're going to be all right. You have to be."

With that, he swept her into his arms and moved towards Belutha, who instantly lowered herself so the two Elves could settle upon her back. Once they were situated, Legolas glared out over the clearing of his men and the Dwarves and demanded, "Take them to my father."

Avalain gasped sharply—Legolas's gaze returned to her face.

"Don't hurt them," she pleaded, her voice fading. "My friends…"

Legolas kissed her forehead and replied, "They will come to no harm." Then, louder so his kinsmen could hear, he added, "Do not lay a single hand on them, understand? They will come before my father as guests before anything else."

Satisfied with what he had said, Avalain exhaled. She could feel her chest rising and falling, heavier and heavier with each passing second.

"Avalain?" she heard Legolas's voice ask, filled with worry.

She couldn't answer; the void below finally moved forward and swallowed her whole.