Quick disclaimer: The line marked off with an * doesn't belong to me, but to Ernst Hemmingway. All rights to the line belong to him. Not me. i just liked it...
Darkness. Swirling, twisting into silver droplets of light that swam in her eyes. The morning had thankfully dawned bright and clear. Their first night camping in the forest had been a nightmare. Unfriendly eyes bored into them as they slept, the muffled crunching of leaves beneath heavy creatures dug into their consciousness and the absence of any semblance of light left the Company gathered closely around the fire, praying for the dawn's swift return.
Now as the midmorning sun fought its way through the thick tangle of branches, Lostoriel's chest compressed itself into an anvil upon which her heart beat with the force of the greatest hammer in Erebor. The forest choked her. The air thickened with every breath. It was like the sweltering heat of a summer's day, but ten times worse, stealing the breath from her lungs and sending her head spinning.
Lostoriel gasped and leaned against a nearby tree, she didn't recall the dark magic that hung over the forest being this strong. Nor did she remember the forest being so quiet. Her heart longed to hear the soft chattering of the birds, the muffled footfalls of the deer and see the bright blossoms of pure white wood sorrel, or the lavender that grew with abundance under the care of the Woodelves and the sweet scent of bluebells.
She studied the fork in the road ahead of them. Dying trees lined the way. So corrupted by the enchantment that hung over the wood which sunk deep into their roots and set the decay flowing up to their boughs. They did not sing; they could not speak. Their voices had been drowned out.
The sunlight struggled through the haphazard maze of branches and leaves, trickling down through what seemed like silver clouds. Lostoriel reached out to touch the droplets of light that fell before her, it rested on her hand for a fleeting moment and then slipped away through the trees and halted as if waiting for her to follow. The comforting warmth around her chest seemed to push her forward and before she knew it the Company was out of her sight.
Thorin's annoying, but not unwelcome voice pulled her from the heavy enchantment that sought to steal her away.
"We should take the middle way, Gandalf told us not to stray from the path…"
They had been arguing for some time, about which way to take. Thorin remained determined to not leave the path they had been walking since the dawn, he wanted to travel through the forest as fast as possible and grew disturbingly eager to reach the Mountain. Lostoriel on the other hand had a worm of worry eating away at her mind, she had awoken to strange dreams and the unease had set her on edge.
"I told you already, if we go right, we'll end up at the Elven Stronghold, which is the last place we want to be!" Lostoriel huffed as she pointed angrily towards the three- way fork in the road.
"If we go left then we should pass by the bridge Gandalf spoke of and take the path going around the fortress! And if we go tromping down the westward leading path then we'll end up in Dol Guldur and maybe we'll stop and have some tea with Azog and his lovely friends!"
Thorin rolled his eyes heavenward and prayed for some miracle to get them out of the accursed forest. "And if I recall correctly, I'm the one leading this quest and not to mention that you've been gone a hundred years, so how, pray tell do you know that you're correct?"
The elf turned a withering stare his way and Thorin recoiled. She had definitely inherited that glare from her father. Lostoriel's blue eyes burned dangerously and her hand inched towards her sword.
To Thorin she looked wild. Her gleaming hair and otherworldly glow made her stand starkly against the dreary woods.
"I know that I'm correct because I've traversed these ways more times than you've been alive. And if you wish to argue with me then please by all means do! You can kiss any hopes you had of reaching Erebor alive goodbye!"
The dwarf huffed, his irritation with her rose and died with the realization that Lostoriel was right. The anger in his eyes faded into reluctant acceptance, "Fine. Wait here and I will recall the others."
Lostoriel said nothing more. She nodded and turned back to face the gloomy path ahead and listened with guilty relief as he tromped off to recall the Company who were being led by Fili and Dwalin.
Her hands shook fiercely from the pain that shot up like an electric shock from her fingertips to her shoulder blades. Everything burned white hot and Lostoriel sagged against the tree, breathless as she squeezed her eyes shut. The greyness morphed into the amber light of the throne room of the Greenwood.
'Why will you not see reason? The Dwarves are beyond our help,' her father's voice sprung into her mind from a memory that she had re-lived over and over again. 'They have led themselves to their own doom-'
'Have you no faith in them?' Lostoriel had been brave or stupid in that moment, which she did not know as she glared up at her father. He glided down the staircase from his throne. 'They are not beyond all hope Adar.'
'You are naïve to think so. Know you nothing of the sickness that lies over that gold?' Her father's words cut into her with the blunt force of being shot with an arrow in close range.
'And is your heart so frozen over that you feel no compassion, even for those who seek aid or is it that you choose to remain here? Hiding behind our stone walls, watching as the world burns around us? Aran-nὶn? Because if there is no place for others in your heart, then there is no place for me.'
She had spat those words like venom at her father. Had stormed out of the palace and into the forest. Leaving him with those words and never returning to remedy them.
Lostoriel grimaced and dug her nails into her palm. It became difficult to breathe and she wanted to run as far as she could from this forest. The loud chattering of the Dwarves and Bilbo came within her earshot and Lostoriel wiped away the stray tears from her cheeks. She righted herself and schooled her features, hoping that none of them would see the anger and grief churning behind her eyes.
The elf frowned as a new set of footsteps disturbed the beat of the forest. Immediately she had an arrow on her bowstring, listening and eyeing out the scramble of trees for this silent follower. It crunched the dry leaves to her left and the forest stilled as if disturbed by this newcomer's presence. Whatever it was padded along behind them. Watching and waiting to strike.
"What is it Lostoriel?" Dwalin's voice boomed over the silence and Lostoriel lowered her bow, keeping the arrow in place.
"Nothing to worry about Dwalin." Not yet of course. "We should move on."
The forest pulsated around them, the air thickening like the hottest days of summer. Shimmering like silver fairy dust. Creatures tumbled through the gorse and scuttered through the heather. The eyes of the woods watched as they moved. The forest floor slid backwards as they pushed forwards. The Company trudged down the Elven Road, cutting through tendrils of forget-me-nots that twisted their way down from the branches and snagged onto their hair and clothing. The light of the midday sun shimmered like light beneath water and with every step the creature following them grew closer.
"Come on, we should hurry!" Lostoriel called over her shoulder, but there was no need to as the Dwarves and Bilbo had long since fallen into silence.
The eeriness of the forest grated on their nerves and none of them, not even Fili or Kili were in the mood for conversation. Their silent march carried on for some time. Bilbo placed himself right behind Lostoriel, feeling that the safest place would be with the elf. The Dwarves were growing grumpier by the minute and the hobbit didn't know how much more of it that he could handle.
He had once heard that Dwarves could navigate the vast depths of the underground as if strolling on a Sunday afternoon. But he had also learnt that if one plonked thirteen of them into the dimmest, most haphazard forest in perhaps the entirety of Middle Earth, that they would stumble and fall over every root and stick and find the time to complain about it.
"How much longer till we find it?" asked Dori, finally breaking the thickening silence as they twisted around another unexpected turn in the path.
The ground steadily inclined from here, leading them away from the comfort of the Elven Gate and into the depths of the forest.
"I don't like the look of this place!" Bifur whispered to no one in particular.
Around them the remnants of a forgotten village rose through the undergrowth on either side of the path. Trees grew through the tiled rooves, ivy clung to the cracked walls as if clawing for hope that the villagers would return. The metal skeletons of lanterns and streetlamps littered the twisted trees, hole poked shoes, robes and carts were strewn across the way. Glass stuck out through the grass and nobody could escape the knowledge that this village was frozen in time and that perhaps they were not alone.
"You and me both Bifur." Lostoriel let out a weary huff and muttered a small prayer of peace though she doubted that anyone was listening.
She remembered this town in its younger days when it bustled with trade coming in from the human villages to the West. The laughter of children -human and elven- echoed through the streets, mingling with the buzz, and shouting of the tradesfolk on the main street. The Company pushed on and Lostoriel's grip on her bow tightened.
Bilbo nudged her in her side, "What happened here?"
Though he whispered, his voice boomed over the silent woods so that even Fili, Kili and Dwalin at the head of the column leant their ears to the conversation. Lostoriel opened her mouth to speak and was -in her most annoyed opinion- rudely interrupted.
"This was once one of the most vibrant trading villages in the Greenwood." Thorin answered in a hushed voice from behind and Lostoriel glanced at him in shock. Still of course, having to bite her cheek to resist the stinging remark she had already formulated for the Dwarf.
"Men, Elves and even Dwarves travelling through from the Iron Hills or Erebor would stop and trade or take rest here. The main street we're on used to be so crowded that you could barely hear yourself think over the din. And it lasted for many years, since before I or even Lostoriel was born. Years of carefully cultivated peace razed to the ground in a single day."
Lostoriel had been there when it had been destroyed. The air thick with smoke, the acrid scent of burning houses and the smell of death all around them. She took the next part of the tale, allowing Thorin to at least walk alongside Bilbo.
"It was my first patrol. We only got word of the orc attack after they set fire to the village. The orcs attacked in the middle of the day and their guards weren't prepared. It was a massacre in cold blood for the orcs took nothing else except for innocent lives. It took three Elven patrols to win the battle and even then, the casualties were too great to count. Since then no one has been back, except for those whose families were killed in the attack."
That day she had seen carnage beyond the expression of words and grief.
Through the gnarled trees the Company were beginning to spot the signs of an attack; rotting foundations of houses and disintegrating tarpaulin's hanging in drabs from above. The path widened enough for five to walk abreast and broke off into narrow side-streets that wound through the trees and the stone foundations of houses long since reclaimed by nature. Sign boards inscribed with flowing Elven script littered the floor, crumbling jars, pots, and chairs lay curled within the twisted roots of the trees. And silver ribbons of memory hanging listlessly from the trees.
"I did not think you remembered that tale." Their differences pushed aside, Lostoriel was genuinely impressed that Thorin even knew that they were in the correct place. Frankly, she thought that due to his new- found indifference for Elves that any tales she had shared with him would have been long forgotten.
The dwarf-king shrugged, a deep sadness in his eyes, "How could I forget this place? It is a place of hope. Do you not recall that you once brought me here when relations between our peoples were less…"?
Thorin paused, searching for the right word.
"Strained?" A ghost of a smirk pulled the corners of her lips as she diverted his question. Right now, Lostoriel thought was not the time to remind him that she didn't remember every day in her long life.
"I was going to say existent, but I'll take what optimism there is in these dreary woods."
"How can you say this is a place of hope, Thorin?" asked Bilbo, distraught as he looked between them both.
The dwarf and elf beside him were quiet for a long moment, neither quite sure of what to say. Finally, after several glances at Lostoriel-who gazed off into the distance with an expression that Thorin had seen on so many warrior's faces- it was Thorin who answered.
"Because after death Bilbo, there is always life that will strive to grow even in the direst of circumstances." As he spoke Thorin pointed to a bright, almost out of place, cerise and white vine of flowers that clung onto the bowl of a dying tree.
For a moment Lostoriel's unforgiving rage with Thorin subsided and she met his eyes as a friend. It was not often these days that he spoke so freely, or so upliftingly unless it was with his Dwarves. This was the Thorin she had befriended, this was the one with whom she had seen a hope for a harmonious future with their people. But this was also the Thorin whose heart she had broke and-
Out of the depths of her memory Lostoriel saw the village burning to the ground, felt the flames lick her skin and the screams of the dying echoing around her. Her breath came in shallow intakes. Her blood rushed through her body and she shoved her way to the front of the slow group.
"Come on," she hissed through her teeth, "we cannot linger here. The bridge is not far off from here."
"We found the bridge!" Bilbo announced, bringing the Company to a halt as the stone bridge lay before them.
"Oh, come on!" Lostoriel blew a strand of hair away from her eyes and glared at the non-existent bridge before them.
Of course, with their luck the only way across the damned river had to have been broken. She laughed humourlessly and took a sip of water from her canteen. Her people had undoubtedly been the cause of this destruction, she too would not want anyone or anything coming across the water from this far south.
Bilbo and Lostoriel pushed on through the fog and onto the ivy-covered bridge. The elf pinched her nose, gagging at the foul stench of decay that arose from the river.
She paused, the world swayed as if it were balanced on a scale, the air around her stagnant and thick, as if she were pushing through a wall. Tendrils of fog wrapped themselves around her legs and Lostoriel swatted it away, trusting in the unease that settled into her stomach. Her feet squelched on something thick and wet. Lostoriel looked down and raised an eyebrow, her boots were covered from heel to toe in oozing mud. So, this was why her feet felt like blocks of lead.
The water below looked so inviting, soft and grey- almost like Sunflower's fur- Lostoriel yawned loudly. If only she could just dip her feet in and maybe take a nap on the riverbank, after all she deserved one after their hours of walking. The elf leaned dangerously forward, answering the temptation of the soothing water below and she reached out-
A wave of warmth erupted from her chest and Lostoriel doubled over, holding her knees and gasping. The cotton wool that clouded her mind cleared and she suppressed a shout of shock- beneath her toes there was no stone, only a sheer drop into the thick, bubbling water below. The enchantment was too strong here, they had to find another way around.
Lostoriel stumbled backwards, her nimbleness leaving her for the fright that shook her body. That water had uncannily reminded her of the medicine a nurse had once tried to get her to take. She blanched at the thought of falling in. Gandalf hadn't said what would happen, nor had he told them of what danger lay beneath the bubbling, foul stench.
"We can try and swim it." Suggested Bofur, but Lostoriel and Thorin shook their heads.
"Didn't you hear what Gandalf said? A dark magic lies upon this forest, the water of this stream is enchanted."
You don't say, Lostoriel couldn't help but raise both her eyebrows at him, sharing a dubious look with Bilbo.
"Doesn't look very enchanting to me." Said Bofur in a concerningly slurred sing-song voice.
The Dwarves remained in a stupor, their eyes searching for another bridge or perhaps a path that led around the river or through it. Lostoriel moved away from Bilbo and onto higher ground so that she could get a better view of their options. There were no visible paths leading around the river, or at least none that thirteen Dwarves could easily use. They moved quickly, yes, but their stealth techniques left much to be desired.
Lostoriel scanned the forest from left to right and sighed, if she knew her father then the next bridge would be miles north and they didn't have the time to go searching.
She squinted into the pearly sunlight that burst through the massive vines that hung over the river. They looked passable, at least for an Elf or maybe a hobbit. Perhaps they could take the risk.
Lostoriel pushed her way through the stagnant group and leapt up onto the closest vine. Kili climbed onto the one beside the bridge and leant his weight onto it, his mind moving along the same lines as Lostoriel's.
It was sturdy enough, but only so. Lostoriel bounced on the vine, disliking the softness of the wood, but admiring the strength that they held. Each vine was at least as thick as Dwalin's biceps or perhaps his head-though she wasn't going to readily admit that to him- he already thought too much of his strength and she valued her head.
She slung her bow across her shoulder and squatted on the branch, balancing on the tips of her boots. These vines were unlike anything she had seen anywhere on Earth or Arda. They adapted remarkably well to the dying forest, Lostoriel shivered, a coldness running over her body. She hoped that there were no serpents lying in the tangle waiting for them.
"These vines look strong enough!" Called Kili over his shoulder, "We can make it through."
"Fili stop!" Growled Thorin from the other side of the group.
Lostoriel snorted and slapped a hand over her mouth to cover the wry smile that tugged its way onto her face. She caught Balin's eyes and the old dwarf winked impishly at her, they both knew that Thorin was aging and that there was no mistaking Fili for Kili, or the other way around. It wasn't the first time that this had happened on the quest. Lostoriel rose to her feet, he was either short-sighted and too stubborn to admit it or it was just old age. Frankly, she couldn't wait to tease him about it.
"We send the lightest first." He looked pointedly at Bilbo, who scrunched up his face and threw Thorin the dirtiest glare he could muster. And then at Lostoriel, whose smug smile died on her lips.
Elves were light-footed and Lostoriel was no exception, she knew that she could run across the twisted vines that swayed with her weight. She also knew-with begrudging acceptance-that no one with short-sightedness would want to make their way over a mess of vines that hung over an enchanted river.
"You want to go first?" she cheerfully asked Bilbo as he made his way over to her. He grumbled under his breath and Lostoriel's smile only widened at the colourful language that split from his lips. The Hobbit's glare melted into a smug smirk and he gave her a sweeping bow.
"Ladies first."
The elf glowered murderously at him, "Oh, so now you decide to be all polite and gentlemanly! Hobbits-"Lostoriel's words were lost to him as she bounded through the tangle, somehow halfway through before he could lay a foot on the first vine.
Not for the first time in her life, Lostoriel was grateful for the deep-set intuition inherited from her Silvan blood. The forest may be choking in foul magic, but her mind was clear and Lostoriel's limbs knew where to place themselves before her brain registered her movements. Her foot covered the width of the vine and Lostoriel paled, knowing that the Dwarves were going to struggle to balance. Lostoriel balanced with one foot on a vine, the other set in a natural loop that formed with another, thinner vine twisting over this one and the elf risked a peek below her feet and knew it was foolish the moment she did.
Behind her Bilbo flopped backwards, clinging to the vine for dear life like a sloth as his head bobbed inches above the water. And Lostoriel's world pulsated, the white leaves in the water swirled like the indigo brush strokes of Starry Night and she leaned forward. Her foot slipped free of the loop and Lostoriel grasped a thinner vine just in time to prevent herself from falling into the water.
She gasped for breath and shook her head. Something was not right about this. She felt the vine sway under Bilbo's weight as he rectified himself and Lostoriel knew that she had to keep moving. But the water ran gently over the rocks, carried the red and gold leaves down in the swirling current and she longed to dip her toes into its cool depths.
"Filig-nὶn, come now, you have to keep climbing! You're almost at the top!" Lostoriel's eyes fluttered shut closed as she listened to the sweet voice. She was in the forest when it was younger. Or perhaps she was younger, it explained why the trees bared down on her like giants. She looked down and her stomach lurched. The distance between her and the ground was dizzying and Lostoriel uncertainly shifted her small foot on the thin branch. The wind picked up and the tree danced to its rhythm which only made Lostoriel's heart pound against her chest.
"Lostoriel!" The brown-haired woman called up to her and a wave of comfort spread through her, "you can keep going! The tree will not let you fall!"
"Lostoriel!" then someone was shaking her, and the branch vibrated dangerously. "You stubborn…elf…Wake up!"
Her eyes flew open and she stared into the mildly annoyed, but mostly relieved hazel eyes of Bilbo Baggins. "Something's wrong…Here." His words were choked, and his cheeks flushed. "We have to go!"
"Right, yes. Sorry… I'm not…sure what happened." The slight slur in Lostoriel's voice made Bilbo frown and he pulled her up, gazing once over his shoulder to give the dwarves a nod to let them know that their elf was in no danger. Their relieved exclamations were lost in the distance and Lostoriel and Bilbo carried on.
Her leg muscles were jelly and her mind fuzzing grey. The leaf pendant warmed her chest and Lostoriel's mind cleared. This time she didn't look down to investigate and shakily leapt onto the next vine. Was it enchanted as well? Lostoriel braced herself for the next jump, the thick vine was at least five meters away, but she could cover that distance with ease. Gandalf had mentioned that it was her grandmother's, from her father's side, which meant that it had come from Valinor.
Lostoriel sailed clear of the vine, the air hissed passed her ears and she swore as her arms desperately flailed for a handhold and she caught her next purchase with a grunt. Concentrate! This is not the time to worry about jewelry, magic or not! For a moment she swung with the momentum of the swinging vine, letting her center of gravity balance her out.
From behind, Bilbo watched as Lostoriel, with rather annoying ease, scampered along the last of the thinner vines and reached the safety of solid ground with a resounding huff as she collapsed onto the ground.
"Watch out! The last one is a little loose!" She called to him, her hand pointing to the general direction of a clump of five different vines.
Eventually, after much struggle, Bilbo took the final leap from the last vine and screamed as he flung himself over the wide divide. He landed with a painful thud next to Lostoriel and remained with his nose inches away from the ground for several seconds. The hobbit shook a finger in the air and squeezed his eyes shut. Lostoriel would have asked him what was wrong had she the energy to do so, but the elf remained panting and reclined against the small staircase that led to the Elven Road.
"Something is…Not right!" He gasped and rolled over, shuffling backwards to get as far away from the river as he could and bumping into Lostoriel. "Something is not right at all! Stay where you are!"
This time Lostoriel nodded in agreement, "He's right! We'll-"
She swore as both her and Bilbo's faces dropped at the horror before them. The pair could only watch as thirteen, clumsy, magic-addled Dwarves twisted and scrambled their way across the tangle of vines. They yelled, swore, and muttered incoherently as they struggled across. For perhaps the first time, the elf finally understood why Dwarves preferred the safe, unmoving solidity of the ground as opposed to the fluidity of the trees. Lostoriel would have found it hilarious, had she not just almost fallen in.
Every time Nori lost his grip on one vine and had to leap onto another dwarf or another vine to find purchase, she winced. Every time Bifur stared blankly into the water she blanched and when Bombur yawned so widely that she could see his yellow teeth, Lostoriel knew that something was bound to go wrong. She couldn't explain why, but the churning in her stomach held no lie.
Thorin landed on solid ground, flat on his stubborn bottom with a resounding flop. He sat there catching his breath until Lostoriel stood over him with an outstretched arm. Thorin nodded his thanks and grasped her wrist, grunting as she pulled him up with one swift yank.
"Nice of you to join us." She grinned sloppily.
A long groan resonated from their right and slowly grew louder as whatever heavy creature stepped upon it snapped the branch in half. With the utmost calm, Thorin, Lostoriel and Bilbo turned towards the noise and took a collective, sharp breath.
There, just within the tree line stood the most elegant stag that any of them had ever seen. It stood tall, with wide, proud shoulders. The colour of pure snow reflected itself in its coat and its antlers towered over its body, knotted and twisted as if carved by the most delicate of Elven hands. As the stag studied them and them it, something rustled from behind the bushes and a smaller, but no less majestic doe cantered towards the stag.
They glowed with the shine of the heavens, so did Lostoriel, though she did not know it. The stag was the symbol of the ElvenKing and the doe of the Queen. These were no ordinary elks. The elf tentatively stepped forward, lowering her bow and head. From beneath her eyelashes Lostoriel saw the doe and stag do the same and she wanted nothing more than to run to the magical creatures. Some legends held that the stag and doe were the king and queen riding through their territory to ensure the peace between the Elves and woodland creatures, others that the stag and doe were the guardians of the forest and only made themselves known to the worthiest of WoodElves.
But that day Lostoriel and her companions were not worthy. For Thorin fished out an arrow from his quiver and brought his bow up. The string pulled back to his lip as he locked eyes with the stag, staring at it with all the fury he could muster as he released the string and the arrow cut through the air. But Thorin had misjudged the distance. The arrow sailed past both creatures and landed with a thud on the ground.
The stag and doe looked searchingly and with unsuppressed horror into Lostoriel's eyes and the elf whipped around. Glaring and radiating with rage at the dwarf who stood with not even the slightest ounce of resentment in his eyes.
"What the hell did you do that for?" She hissed and Thorin stepped back, his eyes wide with fear. He had never before seen Lostoriel so furious. Her nostrils flared, fire burned in her eyes and her jaw locked in such a way that Thorin swore that it was Thranduil who stood before him and not Lostoriel.
Bilbo's slurred voice cut in before he could answer, "You shouldn't have done that…Bad luck…"
"I don't believe in luck." Thorin turned away from Lostoriel and faced the Company. He could feel Lostoriel's eyes boring into him. "We make our own luck.
Just as Thorin spoke such brave words, Bombur-barely three meters away- yawned again and shook his head like a wet dog. Then, out of all thirteen dwarves, his eyes fluttered closed, his head rolled back, his body followed and a monstrous snore erupted from his mouth as he fell off to sleep, still hanging on the vine as if it were a hammock.
A collective exasperated sigh arose from the Company and Lostoriel dropped her face into her knees, swore for the third time. She smiled smugly at Thorin and flashed her brows, in an I-told-you-so manner.
"We sure as hell could use some of that luck now."
It had taken two hours and four coils of rope, but the Company had finally managed to create a make-shift stretcher out of thick branches and vines, tied with legendary Dwarven knots and hope that it wouldn't fall apart as they trudged through the forest.
It took six dwarves to carry him on the stretcher. And another two when they struggled to make it uphill. But they had made it and now as the welcomed sunlight faded through the leaves, the Company set Bombur down in the middle of the path and proceeded to throw themselves to the ground, rubbing their shoulders and complaining all the while. Bilbo, who did not sleep the previous night, collapsed into a snoring heap where he stood, not even bothering to say goodnight to anyone.
Thorin had been annoyingly persistent in wanting to keep up a strict marching pace. His desperation to reach the Mountain seeped through his carefully cultivated mask and began to concern Lostoriel and Balin. Neither could help but shiver at the thought of what Thorin was becoming.
Lostoriel removed her cloak and carefully laid it over his small frame, she wouldn't need it anyway. She tucked the cowl around his mop of unruly hair and smiled, somewhat wistfully. She envied Bilbo's ability to fall asleep wherever and whenever, especially tonight since Lostoriel doubted that she would be able to rest until she had deciphered that strange vision she had at the bridge.
"Rest well mellon-nὶn." She whispered, carefully setting aside his bags, and then moved off to sink against a nearby tree.
Lostoriel stretched out her legs with a weary sigh and set her bow upon her knees. Gandalf had been right- though she hated to admit it- about the enchantment working its way into her mind, playing tricks on her and planting seeds of confusion in her mind. She would need to be more careful, especially since Thorin had decidedly declared himself and the Company as enemies of the guardians of the forest. Really, that Dwarf's stupidity astounded her. She was surprised that he hadn't gotten himself killed as yet, but then again perhaps she was being too hard on him.
Lostoriel could practically feel the fear and uncertainty radiate off him. In every order for them to pick up the pace she sensed the urgency in his voice, but also the fear of failing, of entering a kingdom that drowned his father and his grandfather. The fear of what unmeasurable wealth and the uncertainty of the king that he would become once he bore the crown.
"Sometimes I think that my uncle really is trying to torture us." Fili sunk against the tree beside her, sighing gratefully as he plucked off his boots to sooth his aching feet.
"Trust me this is nothing."
The weary dwarf rubbed his arms to ease out the tension that had stiffened his muscles over the course of the day. Carrying Bombur on a stretcher through a maze of a forest was no joke. "You get to say that because you didn't have to lug him about all day."
"He does have a point." Kili threw himself down on Lostoriel's left and promptly fell off to sleep. His hanging head inching its way onto her shoulder, where Lostoriel knew a line of drool would soon begin falling. She raised an eyebrow, both content and ready to shove Kili away all at once.
"Tell me, is he always like this?"
"Oh, you don't know the half of it."
The pair lapsed into silence, watching Bofur and Dori rummage in their bags for what food they hadn't lost over the river. A flash of silver from Lostoriel's hand caught Fili's eyes and without asking he lifted her hand into the light. The ring caught the dying light, the tiny vine carved into it barely visible. His smiling face grew serious with a sadness that reached his eyes. Fili let go of her hand and sighed disheartened.
"Do you ever miss him?"
"Elrohir?"
He nodded and Lostoriel smiled wistfully. She missed Elrohir with all her heart, but she couldn't speak about him, or think about him without remembering that she had spent so long without him and that their stop in Imladris would possibly be the last time she'd see him. Perhaps ever. The thought sent tendrils of cold spiking through her heart.
"Everyday. Though I try not to think about it too much. If I did then I'd be halfway to Rivendell by now."
She watched as he gazed longingly to the west, or what she could only assume was the west. She understood how he felt. Being away from one's match was difficult, but knowing that one might never see them again was to bear the weight of the sun and to be blinded by the brightness of the pain of not having them by one's side.
"You're missing Aven aren't you?"
He hummed, "With every fiber of my being."
"You will see her again mellon-nin," Lostoriel squeezed his arm reassuringly, "do not despair. She loves you does she not? Aven does not sound like the type of girl to not wait."
"I'm going to ask her to marry me when we retake Erebor." He said with all the confidence that the young have when they have waltzed into love. "One day, in the far, far future, Mahal willing, she will rule by my side as the Queen Under the Mountain. But if we don't then I'll just buy a plot of land in Ered Luin and run a farm. Obviously, we'd have a cabin for Kili to stay in. And we can live in peace with animals roaming the fields and dwarflings running amok. Chasing the chickens and swimming in the river…" Fili's voice took on a wistful tone and trailed off into silence.
Beside him, Lostoriel could see his imagination running wild with the possibilities of a quiet life, one she knew that neither of them would ever have. She allowed a rare honest smile onto her face, "So the crown prince does not wish for the crown?"
"I didn't say that."
"Fair enough. Though I hope that one day you find such happiness Fili. You and her deserve a life filled with peace and love with each other."
"What about you? If you didn't have the responsibilities of the crown, how would you live?"
"Oh." She took her time considering her answer, "I would marry Elrohir, not now of course, but when the time is right. And we would live the most ordinarily mundane life possible. Maybe move away from the palace, away from the city life of Rivendell and into a small cabin in the forest. At Faelon's Falls. That'd be where we'd live. At the edge of the farmland, near the mountains. With no titles, or war or battle or responsibilities. And no more bloodshed. *We would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright."
Fili sat there stunned for Lostoriel had never been so open with him before. That and it was almost unnerving to see her smile so giddily.
"What?" she asked, her voice rising in pitch.
The dwarf shook his head, smiling the entire time, "Nothing, it's just. I never pegged you as the romantic type, or as someone who would so easily renounce the throne. You're so focused and strong-willed and not to mention slightly terrifying."
"There is much that you don't know about me yet Fili." Lostoriel jested but was taken aback by Fili's honesty. "Truthfully, after living for so long being…Ordinary…I got addicted to that life of being unknown and living for myself and not for the protection or wellbeing of others. I did fight in many wars and battles, but now, being here and I've realised that a simple life is all I actually want. One side of being immortal is that I'll never actually inherit the throne. My father has ruled for over two thousand years and my brother will likely take his place, should he sail. But I won't and perhaps it'll be a blessing in disguise."
Lostoriel's voice trailed off into silence as Fili absorbed all she had said. Eventually as the moonlight struggled through the leaves and the firelight bounced off their golden hair, he asked, "You could live like that now y'know."
The elf shrugged and flashed him a wry smile, "I could, but something festers within the shadows of this world and I fear that it will grow and that before long the time for peaceful living will come to an end for us all."
For a moment Fili sat there stunned by the nihilistic turn in the conversation. Lostoriel noticed the hopeful light fading behind his eyes and instantly felt guilty. She hadn't meant to throw a veil over his dreams, but it was a reality that they faced and she knew that no one would be laying down their swords anytime soon.
"I didn't mean to rain on your parade Fili. I hope that you get to live a happy life, with or without the crown."
The Dwarf prince smiled sadly at her, knowing that what he wanted was only a dream that he would never see fulfilled. He had been born and bred to inherit the throne from Thorin one day and he knew that he would not abandon his people, his responsibility for his own desires.
"I know you didn't."
He supposed that after living for so long that one would grow weary of the life of a warrior. Fili did sympathise with her, perhaps immortality truly was not everything.
"I hope you get your mundane life, princess."
With that the dwarf and elf quietly observed their companions around them, chewing disappointedly on their hard rations of dried meat and fruit, unaware that Thorin had heard most of their conversation and sat crestfallen towards the edge of the camp where he kept watch. Dwalin planted himself at his side and the pair sat there in the silence, as Thorin's heart took yet another punch. There were some hurts of the past and present which time would never heal, ripping open again and again until there was nothing but hollow pain remained.
The night grew heavy around them the eyes of the forest began their scrutinising watch upon the Company. None of them would be resting tonight. And there, in the darkness something crept beneath the trees, barely disturbing the undergrowth as it waited and watched. Its eyes glowing like lamps and its breath misting in the cold.
Minutes turned into hours and hours into days and days into what stretched like millennia and the Elven Road wound through the forest like the springs of a jack-in-the-box.
"Air. I need air." Gloin gasped, his gaze darting from tree to tree as if some dark creature would pop out and attack them at any moment.
Lostoriel yelped as she stumbled over a rock and tumbled into Dori, who caught her before she could hit the ground. She straightened out her clothes and nodded her thanks to the smiling dwarf. It had been four days, or had it been five? Since Bombur had taken a nap over the Enchanted River and they were no further north than they had been when they first entered the forest. The days blurred into themselves, sunrises and sunsets became one in the same and Lostoriel couldn't tell which dwarf was which as they stumbled through heavy fogs of magic.
Oin came to a standstill and leaned heavily against Bifur, who struggled to keep the healer upright, "My head, it's spinning!"
The column came to an abrupt halt, all of them stumbling into each other like a line of toppling dominoes. Lostoriel swore as Bilbo, on his way to the ground, elbowed her in the ribs.
"Oh sorry!" He apologised as Lostoriel grabbed him before he could hit the ground.
"It's okay. You alright?"
The hobbit nodded and shook his head like a wet dog, trying to clear the fuzz that settled into his ears. Lostoriel let him go and pushed her way to the front of the column where Nori led the way. Thorin reached him just as she did, and the pair exchanged a worried glance.
He rested a hand on Nori's shoulder, "Nori, why have we stopped?"
The young dwarf did not answer immediately and stared at the way ahead as if a ghost danced before his eyes. "The path...it's disappeared!"
Lostoriel's eyes widened and her stomach lurched, for there was no way forward. The ground before them sloped down a sheer fifty -foot drop into a deep ravine. She gulped and whipped around to face Thorin, who shared the same horrified expression. "How did we lose the path? We've been heading East haven't we?"
"We have." Answered Nori, "But the sun disappeared and now-" He turned to Thorin, eyes wild and guilty, "I'm sorry I didn't realise…"
He expected anger but received sympathy instead. The forest had begun to play its cruel tricks on them and now they were lost. Thorin could not be angry, no, that would not help their situation at all. He shook his head and smiled, "It's not your fault Nori, it's this place."
"Find it." He turned to the Company, "All of you look. Look for the path!"
Grumbles and mutterings of annoyance fluttered through the Company as they spread out to look for the path. Their search only took them further into the brambles and thickets, stumbling blindly through the maze of trees and scaring off the woodland animals with their confused yelling. Even Lostoriel and Bilbo who had managed to stay somewhat sane struggled to walk in a straight line.
The elf was sure that she had been here before under the shade of a dead oak, she toed away the amber leaves and gasped as she uncovered a square of worn stone. This had to be it, there was no other path nearby and the grey stone looked exactly like that used on the Elven Road. She ambled along, pushing the deadfall aside with the butt of her bow as she went and moved further away from the dwarves with every step.
Lostoriel didn't look up as she ran along the path and if she did perhaps she would have realised that the heavy steps of the dwarves trampling everything in their wake grew softer and that the trees grew more thickly, as if they wanted her to fall into their bony grasps.
Whilst Lostoriel stumbled through the forest, her absence went unnoticed by the Dwarves and Bilbo who mindlessly rambled to each other as they moved further and further away from the Elven Road which lay on the other side of the ravine that they explored.
"Is there no end to this accursed forest?!" Thorin shouted to the sky as if the answer would fall from the trees. He leaned against a tree-trunk and yelled as he sunk into the silky threads of a spider's web. He shot up and clawed at his back in a futile attempt to rid himself of the threads that stuck to his hair and clothing.
"...Dwarves from the Blue Mountains, no less. This is exactly the same as mine." Bofur's words echoed to him and Thorin grimaced, recalling that Bofur had in fact dropped his tobacco pouch some time ago in the exact same spot that he now stood, holding it up for examination. He cursed and examined the footpath they had been following, the two trees that had grown into each other stood in the same place that he had seen it earlier.
"Lostoriel?" He called expecting to hear her irritated reply soon, but getting only silence in return. Thorin spun on his heels, his stomach somersaulting as he searched for her unruly hair. But there was nothing. She was nowhere to be found. A coldness enveloped him and Thorin called out her name, desperately picking apart the treetops in the hopes that she was perched somewhere in the gloom.
"Lostoriel! This is not the time for your tricks! Where are you?" His voice grew louder with every question and soon he turned a fiery gaze on the company. "Where is our elf!?"
Silence. Bilbo paled and gazed over to where he had last seen her hounding through the foliage like a sniffer dog, hoping to see a shock of blonde. But there was nothing but trees and grass and deadfall.
"Where did she go?" His question resonated through the woods and the dwarves set off into a panic looking for her.
"Balin, I thought she was with you last?" Thorin's blood pressure increased as his heart thudded against its cage and a frosty panic set into his bones, much the same as it had in the Goblin Tunnels.
Balin shook his head and pointed to where his brother stood, "I saw her last with Dwalin." Or at least he had thought it was her, it could've been Fili or a phantom of the woods for all he knew.
The dwarf king swore again and ran his hands over his face, "We must search for her. How is it that a woodelf can get lost in the forest?" He muttered tiredly.
Anything could happen to her here. Bandits wandering the trees, the spiders could have her trapped in their webs, or a starving wolf could see her as its next meal. Where was she?
He had lost her once and he wasn't going to let it happen again. In this place any manner of horror could befall her. Thorin flexed his grip on Orcrist to keep his hands from shaking. They may have been at odds with each other, but that did not mean he wished to see her hurt.
oOo
"Thorin?" asked Lostoriel into the wind, searching the cluttered woods around her for any sign of the company. "Bilbo? Ori?"
She gulped nervously, unaware of any other noise besides the rush of blood in her ears. "Dwalin! Nori! Where are you?" she called, blindly crashing through the undergrowth and alerting any creature within a fifty-mile radius of her location. "Anybody! Dori! Bofur!"
She screamed into the trees, slashing through vines of ivy and forget-me-nots with her sword , ignoring how its tendrils snagged her clothing and tore at her sleeves and face. "Come on! Now is not the time for you all to be quiet!"
Her steps turned from muffled to clicking and she looked down to find that she was on a path, "Fili! Kili!"
Her chest heaved as she caught her breath and tried to calm herself. This damned forest, of course she would get herself lost in here of all places. It was almost laughable. But where were the dwarves? When had she left them behind? And-
Something rustled in the bushes behind her. The hair on her back pricked up, and Lostoriel resisted the overwhelming urge to halt and turn around. Instead she continued breathing deeply and searching the trees, scanning everything from top to bottom as she turned in a slow circle. This way if anyone was watching they wouldn't know that she had heard them. A stout, brown bush shuddered to her left. Lostoriel brought up her bow and steadied her breathing as the air around the bush shimmered.
oOo
What cohesion and level headedness that existed amongst the dwarves had vanished as soon as they had lost the sun.
"The sun." Said Bilbo beneath the raised voices of the bickering Dwarves. The hobbit plucked at the spiderweb that had formed around the base of a tree. "We have to find the sun. Up there. We need to-"
An echoing thrum shuddered its way through the forest and Thorin spun round and glared at Bilbo. Their leader stood off to one side, ignoring his kinsmen who argued mindlessly. Bilbo shrugged apologetically and froze.
Whispers. Dozens of them, tangled and mixed into one another hissed through the air and the single web that Bilbo had strummed turned out to be just the beginning of a net of webs that stretched for miles.
"What?" Thorin looked up as he pushed himself away from the tree. The webs dramatically clothed the trees in sticky, white fabric that made the unease in Thorin's stomach grow. "What's that?"
The dwarves were shouting, yelling senselessly at one another, jostling, and shoving their way around each other. Kili shoved Bofur out the way, who bumped into Dwalin, who accidentally elbowed Gloin and then chaos erupted. Their cries carried through the trees and the whispering grew fervent as it travelled nearer to the fighting Company. Thorin listened intently, trying to gauge where the whisperers were.
Their watchers were too close and the dwarves were making too much noise, "Enough! Quiet! All of you! We're being watched."
Just as he reprimanded them, he noticed that their burglar was gone. Thorin's brows furrowed and he scanned over the dishevelled group, "Where is Bilbo?"
As one the dwarves frantically searched their immediate whereabouts, the whispering had stopped, and all was silent. A giant crack resonated through the forest and the trees waned and bent towards them as hundreds of eyes beamed down upon them. Scurrying towards them as if on the wind itself, knocking aside everything in its path.
Then, huge, bony legs pinned Thorin's arms to his sides as a hairy body brushed against his back. His heart raced, eyes wide and unblinking whilst his throat went dry. Thorin didn't dare move, he couldn't anyway, not with his hand being squashed under the furry legs of a ginormous, drooling, foul smelling spider. He struggled to breathe as its stinger touched his back.
"RUN!"
That was as all Thorin managed to yell before an entire hoard of nightmarish spiders descended upon them. Their high-pitched screaming, plate-sized glassy eyes and enormous pincers was all that Thorin saw before the world violently spun around him.
oOo
Thrraung! The noise echoed through the trees, like stretched tarpaulin shuddering in a strong wind. It rang through again and Lostoriel paled. That was not what leaves in the wind sounded like. Slowly, she turned her gaze upwards and gulped, "You've got to be joking."
There wrapped around the tree trunks and hanging from the branches like tinsel were thick, white, taut spider webs hung like fishing nets from the boughs. They covered every inch of bark and branch and were large enough to capture a horse and maybe an elf. Spiders. Giant, hairy spiders. Lostoriel shivered, her heart refused to pace itself and her hands wouldn't stop shaking. Through the dark the webs stretched on for miles, blanketing the bushes and the floor in a carpet of white.
"Calm down… Just breathe." The elf took stock of her rapidly deteriorating situation. If she ran west then the spiders would undeniably find her, if she ran south then she would be running straight into their traps, but the Company. Lostoriel's eyes widened as the terrible realisation hit her. The dwarves and Bilbo were somewhere in the forest depths, lost and unaware that they had all just become a spider's meal.
Something crashed through the bushes to her right and Lostoriel whipped around, an arrow already notched and aimed at the pearl white doe that Thorin had failed to shoot. She sucked in a shaky breath and lowered her bow, why did the doe appear now and to her of all elves?
The mesmerising creature bowed her head and Lostoriel did the same. Then without a word, as the trees began to crash around them and the harsh, menacing whispers of the spiders drew nearer, the doe bolted through the undergrowth. Lostoriel didn't waste another second and rushed after it, dodging falling branches and trees as her quarry grew far away.
Unbeknownst to the elf, the doe was not the only light shining in the shadows of the forest as they ran. Lostoriel shimmered like fairy dust in the sunlight and from her chest, a star rested against her skin.
Her gaze was fixated only on the animal that did not so much as blink whilst the elf picked her way over. Lostoriel looked directly into its eyes and halted on the spot. There was something so familiar about those marble sized, glassy eyes. She had stared into those amber orbs before.
"Filig-nìn." A voice echoed through her mind, from a forgotten memory. "This way my love..."
The doe threaded its way through the trees, constantly looking back at Lostoriel, checking that she followed. The crunching of leaves morphed into padded footfalls on stone and Lostoriel was back on the Elvenroad far from the spiders and the dwarves. The doe slowed to a canter and Lostoriel jogged.
What had felt like hours was mere minutes and when Lostoriel looked up and through the trees she could see the vast, towering doors of the palace.
Trees were unnaturally silent, as were the animals and for a moment Lostoriel 's feet and mouth were frozen. Warm heat emanated from where the leaf pendant hung from her neck and the trees seemed to constrict around her, as if drawing in a great breath.
It started as a breeze tickling her exposed ears, but soon the breeze turned into the wind and the wind into the merry greetings of the trees as it swarmed her mind. The elf was deaf to all else except for the flighty voices of the trees. She put her hands over her ears as the whirring voices of the trees took over her senses. The ground floated above her, the trees spun around her and Lostoriel struggled to breathe.
"Welcome daughter of the wood."
The words echoed through her mind as the leaves rustled above and the sweet voices of the trees rose in volume. Their greetings turned into song that burst with the very life of the forest itself. The rushing of the Forest River hissed in her ears, flowing through the ground and into her feet. Lostoriel released a great, shuddering breath. The Company long since forgotten. Glowing like a star through the daylight she couldn't help but laugh giddily. She felt the presence of every creature within the forest, of every fish within the river and insect crawling along and of every elf within beyond the border. Most of all Lostoriel felt alive.
Through the joy of the forest that consumed her, there was another presence that invaded hers. She could feel their distress. Their curiosity and excitement at her presence. So familiar and yet so foreign.
Then the palace doors flew open and a single, tall elf came running through. His crown glittering in the sun and his robes flowing around him as he mounted the bulky elk that came running out from the side of the stronghold. In a one swift motion he was on the elk, riding bareback, his silver hair flying in the wind. It was the King. Her father.
Lostoriel resisted the urge to call out to him. Something was amiss in the forest, she could feel it in her bones. The king couldn't find the dwarves. The dwarves!
Lostoriel blanched, she had left them all alone. Bickering, lost in the middle of the woods. She turned back to face the path she had come on and with the cold horror of realisation that she did not know the way back. But the trees would.
"Take me to them!" She commanded, knowing that the trees would listen. Her Silvan blood ensured that they would speak to her, but now was not the time for such thought.
"This way!" The trees hissed softly on the wind, their branches creaking and leaves rattling as they stretched towards the direction of the darkening woods.
A single, thick branch unfurled itself to the ground, beckoning Lostoriel to jump on. She hesitated , knowing that running through the trees in Imladris was one thing , but this, where the trees were alive was different. But a distant shout of distress blasted itself through the wind and Lostoriel hopped on the nearest branch without second thought. It had sounded distinctly like Bilbo's and she wasn't about to abandon her friends.
She bounded through the trees , her feet scampering across thick branches with only the confidence that a woodland creature could run with. Lostoriel chanced a glance to her right where her father rode like the wind, looking every so often in her direction. She knew that he had not seen her and if he had then he didn't recognise her. But still he followed not far behind, undeniably being assisted by the trees.
If he found the Dwarves then they would be imprisoned. She promised Thorin that she would get them to the mountain, even if that meant never seeing her father ever again. Sacrifices had to be made and oh how she loathed that she had to be the one to make them.
Screams filled the air, dozens of them, followed by the hissing of steel on steel and Lostoriel knew it was the dwarves. She whipped on her heels and lunged into the depths of the forest. The heavy enchantment choked her as she passed over the invisible border and the voices of the trees left her.
Her father still chased from behind and Lostoriel's mind worked overtime trying to find a way to evade him. There was a bog nearby that she could lead him to. The thick, gooey mud would have his stead stuck for hours, giving the Company enough time to escape North.
"I'm sorry Adar." Lostoriel whispered and took a sharp turn to the left, not needing to check on if Thranduil followed as the pounding of his elk's hooves grew closer.
"Show yourself" He called.
She didn't stop running when her heart stopped and started again. Instead Lostoriel sprinted with everything she had, zigzagging through the trees towards the foul, rotting stench of the bog. She couldn't stop now. She had a duty to the dwarves and Bilbo. She had a duty to Middle Earth to keep going.
Her father grew closer and Lostoriel prepared herself for the recklessness of her actions. Her muscles bunched up as she bent down and somersaulted from the highest branch of the tree and into the air, letting gravity pull her down. She spotted a high rock in the bog and aimed to fall onto it. Hopefully, her father would ride into the thick water and hopefully she wouldn't die.
Lostoriel landed without a sound on the smooth boulder, flicked up her long cowl and drew an arrow from her quiver. The sickly-sweet scent of decay reached her nose and she gagged; the smell was as foul as boiled cabbage. She looked up just in time to see a nearby branch and her father bursting through the treeline.
She inhaled deeply and brought up her bow, ignoring how her stomach twisted and pulled as she aimed a warning shot at the hooves of the elk. Lostoriel released her shot, it sailed through the air and landed with a squelch in the mud, inches away from the elk's hoof. But Thranduil and his stead barely flinched. Lostoriel already had another shot ready when he glowered at her.
From here his eyes were shards of ice, his nose flared indignantly, and he snarled at the mystery archer. He could tell from the manner that they held themselves and from their unnatural glow that they were Elven. There was something so familiar in the way that they held their bow, though he didn't know what. They were expertly skilled. No novice archer could fire a shot so close to their quarry without hitting it. Thranduil suppressed his rising fear. No one would know if he died here, not now anyway. They would find him in the next few days, dead in a bog. Just like his father. No, his glare deepened, he would not die his way.
"Lay down your bow! There is no need for bloodshed."
Lostoriel was glad that her face was hidden from his eyes, for she knew that she was red and that her fear swam openly in her eyes. She knew her father to be a kind, gentle ellon and a benevolent king. But in battle he was the sword itself, the iron ran through his veins and all his enemies feared and revered him. And now, as she stood, pierced by his withering glare Lostoriel had the urge to turn and run, as so many orcs had before her. Thranduil was unarmed, though that was an understatement, Lostoriel knew that he was more than capable of fighting without weaponry and she was more than thankful for the distance that the bubbling water put between them.
"Come now, you've had your fun. If you do not show yourself, you will leave me no choice."
So, he had a plan, Lostoriel knew that she couldn't shoot him, not even to incapacitate him. No, she was many things, but a Shakespearean tragedy and a…A kin-slayer was not one of them. But she had to escape, she had to find the Company and get them out of this place.
Lostoriel sucked in a deep, shaky breath and raised her bow. She slowly drew back her bowstring, the bow shook like a leaf in her hands and Lostoriel had to remind herself that he wouldn't know it was her and shove her nerves into the back of her mind. The fletching tickled her mouth and Lostoriel saw the arrow sailing past her father's hair and thudding into the tree behind him.
She released the quarry. Lostoriel didn't lower her hands, even as tears pricked at her eyes and her heart raced uncontrollably. She was going to die if it galloped any faster. She heard his gasp and saw him sway to the right. The arrow sailed passed and she leapt into the trees and ran with all she had. Biting down the sob that escaped from her lungs and turned her eyes to the end of the next branch.
Everything passed in a blur. But the forest was not silent. Screams filled the air, the hissing of metal on metal echoed up from below and Lostoriel heard the sweetest shout she had ever had the privilege to hear.
"Grab a leg!"
"Dwalin!" She yelled and readied herself to leap off the edge of this branch and then to the ground.
"Lass!" He shouted back followed by a manic laugh, "That you?"
Lostoriel lightly ran along the branch, almost giddy with joy at the sound of their shouting, "Yeah! Coming to you now!"
She reached the tip of the branch and stumbled back when the ugliest, most horrifying spider she had ever laid eyes on screeched and lunged at her. Its enormous pincers snapped at her and to her horror, "We kill it! Kill it now!"
"Uhmm, no thank you!" Lostoriel could have died then and there. She didn't like spiders and this one… This one spoke. The elf notched, aimed, and fired two shots before the spider had time to blink. Lostoriel hopped onto it as it fell into the air, crashing into webs and shattering branches as they went down. Lostoriel caught onto one of its legs and held on for dear life as the ground rapidly grew closer. She screamed as branches splintered under the weight of the spider and sticky layers of spider web covered her.
The spider broke her fall with a sickening crunch and Lostoriel leapt off it, landing on the ground with a thump and pulling out her sword with a hiss stabbed the spider that came scuttling towards her. Its high-pitched squeal filled the air. But the spider did not die.
From behind it a ferocious growl broke out and the spider drilled its legs into the ground. It was no use. Its shell flew backwards before its legs followed and it was torn in two. The spider fell under the weight of the furry creature and Lostoriel looked up to find a bloodied, wild wolf wagging its tail at her.
"Sunflower!" Lostoriel grinned, sheathing her sword and letting lose another two arrows within seconds of each other whilst the wolf ran over to her. The arrows hit the spider with a sickening crunch, and it fell where it stood. Dead. Sunflower brushed against her leg, leaving a trial of black blood and grass on her tights. The elf laughed, "So it was you stalking us!"
Sunflower barked eagerly and then growled, looking upwards as a horde of spiders descended upon them. A grizzly looking spider barely touched the ground before Lostoriel had her sword rammed up its soft underbelly and Sunflower chewed viciously at the exposed flesh where its head connected to the abdomen.
"Oi! Lostoriel! Where've you been?" Shouted Gloin, dropping a dislocated spider leg as green goo oozed from it.
"Long story!" Lostoriel grunted as she yanked her sword out of the spider and into the head of another as Fili slid under it, his twin-blades slicing it with the sickening sound of tearing flesh. It collapsed into a heap and she helped him, grimacing at the blood on his legs. "Good to see you Fili."
"Nice of you to join us!" He shouted as he and Nori finished off another spider. Fili stabbed it through the head and Nori had his axe embedded in its hard exo-skeleton.
"Couldn't let you have all the fun without me, now could I?" The elf switched her sword for her bow and notched an arrow to the string. Lostoriel shot the spider that scurried after Sunflower, who had already bitten it in several places. It screeched and fell lifeless to the ground, an arrow embedded in one of its eyes. "Come on girl!"
Sunflower obeyed and followed the elf as they ran through the chaos. Spiders leapt at the Company from all directions, snapping, grabbing and trying to sting them with their massive stingers that dripped with poison. The Dwarves hacked at the spiders with their heavy-headed axes, jumping high into the air and using each other as steps to leap and stick their blades into the spider's underbellies.
Lostoriel tugged her sword from one's head. A wind fluttered behind her and she whipped around and stabbed the spider as it reared up behind her. Her blade pierced through its heart and she tore it away. The blade came back slick with blood. For a moment, the battle lulled and Lostoriel took stock of the situation. Screams of dying spiders and furious dwarves filled the air, Dwalin spun in a vicious circle, his axes ripping through the spiders as they ran at him. All her companions were here, Fili and Kili fought off two spiders at once to one side and Dori, Ori and Bifur fiercely fought off another huge spider that had Balin in its grasp. The only person that was missing was Bilbo. But she had no more time to dwell on that as a spider leapt down from above.
"Where were you?" Asked Thorin as he ran up beside her, grinning like a madman.
"Not important," She looked him up and down and frowned. He was covered from head to toe in spider web, "Care to tell me about your new outfit?"
"Not important!" He shouted with a wry smile as the spider landed in front of them, screaming incoherently about how it wanted to eat them.
Lostoriel nodded to it, "Care to give me a lift?"
Thorin nodded and bent down whilst Lostoriel took off at a run. Leapt onto Thorin's back with one foot and propelled herself onto the spider's back. She yelled as she drove her sword through its hard shell and into its head and brought her dagger down into the side of its ugly face. On the ground, Thorin had impaled it with Orcrist and shoved it to the side as the elf jumped down and hit the ground with a roll. Rising with the throw of her dagger in the direction of the spider that nabbed at Bifur.
"Bifur! Duck!" She shouted, not waiting to see if he heard her before throwing her blade at the spider. It stabbed it in the abdomen with a sickening crunch. The spider screeched and spun around to grab her, but Lostoriel managed to twist out of the way in time to miss its scuttling legs. The elf slashed out and cut it across its soft underbelly. The spider screeched as it fell to the ground, convulsing and then seeing black. A second spider leapt onto its fallen brother and lashed out at the elf, catching her unawares and breaking through her defense. Its sharp legs tore at her clothes and Lostoriel struggled to raise her sword and stab it.
She swore as it snapped at her neck and managed to punch it in the soft flesh under its head. The spider stood dazed for a second and then lunged at her, its stinger flying wildly through the air and Losteoriel screamed. The razor- sharp stinger ripped through the fabric of her shirt as the spider and slashed across her stomach. Pain flared across her midriff and Lostoriel barely registered the blood that began to seep through her shirt. Lostoriel stumbled backwards, her sword clattering to the ground as her midriff throbbed.
The spider hissed in victory, but it did not last. The last thing it heard was a low rumbling that grew into a skin-crawling growl and long teeth biting deep into its flesh before the furious glare of a dwarf met its eyes and the darkness met it.
A too quiet silence fell over the clearing as the Company stood panting, watching, and waiting for the next spider to come. Bifur spun around startled as Lostoriel stood above the carcass, splattered in black and red blood. He let out a string of Khuzdul that Lostoriel struggled to comprehend. She looked up and into his worried eyes and regretted the action as the trees pulsated around her. She collapsed onto Bifur, who held her up from under her shoulder.
Then Dwalin was at her side, sharing a dire look with Bifur as he saw the amount of blood pouring from her stomach. Already Lostoriel paled, and her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled for breath. He moved her arm away from her stomach and grimaced as more blood poured out and he saw bright, scarlet flesh.
Dwalin's face tilted to one side and so did the trees. But Bifur and Dwalin grabbed her before she could fall to the ground. Everything burned and Lostoriel knew that she didn't have long before she lost too much blood.
"I'm…Fine…" She panted, swatting Dwalin's hand away from her wound and her eyes darting around the clearing in search of their burglar. "Where's… Bilbo?"
"You're bleeding out and what you're worried about is Bilbo?" Asked Dwalin, rolling his eyes as he tore away a long strip of his shirt and tied it around the wound, they could fret about the cleanliness of it later on. For now all he wanted was to stop her from swaying like a tree and to stop the bleeding. "This is going to hurt."
And he wasn't joking. Lostoriel cursed through her teeth as Dwalin shifted her into his side and he wrapped a tight arm around her stomach and her everything erupted in pain.
"Dammit! I'm fine!"
She stumbled forward, clearly not fine.
"We're clear!" Thorin shouted as he came running towards them and skidded to a stop. He gasped and looked between Dwalin and Lostoriel for answers. "What happened? Are you alright?"
Lostoriel glared at him and flexed her fingers, a strange tingling sensation washed over them. "Of course, I'm not alright!" She snapped. "No time to worry about me, let's go!"
He nodded and led the dwarves away from where they were first ambushed. But continued to look over his shoulder at the stumbling elf.
Lostoriel stumbled along blindly, trying not to double over and vomit, Dwalin wouldn't appreciate that. She hated that she had been so foolish and Lostoriel hated that she had to be helped along like some damsel in distress.
"Come on! Almost there!" Encouraged Dwalin with a pained smile as he adjusted his grip on her. She could feel his thumping heartbeat against her throbbing chest and almost felt comforted by his concern. "Don't you dare die on me lass. Don't you dare."
"I won't." He really was being overly dramatic.
They made it into the next clearing and for a moment everything went silent.
Lostoriel heard it before they saw it. She threw off Dwalin's arm, grabbed his axe from his other hand and plunged towards where the bulky creature leapt from the trees and slid down from its own web. The elf shoved her way through the group and lifted her arm up to throw the blade. And her entire side flared up in pain, but she pushed it back and released the blade. It hissed through the air and glided over the spider's hard shell. She swore as it embedded itself a tree trunk and a new sound reached all their ears.
The air exploded with the vicious hissing of arrows cutting through the air and hitting their targets, the shrill screams of falling spiders and the shouts of dozens of WoodElves sprinting on the branches. The Dwarves and Lostoriel could do nothing more than stand and watch in amazement as the Elves leapt from branch to branch, running lightly across the thinnest as if they were part of the trees themselves. Flashes of auburn and brown swarmed them from above and one shock of blonde ignited from the top of the spider's web. The elf spun down the web one- handed, his hair a halo of light as he leapt from the web. An arrow in hand as he slid across the ground, slicing two spiders down their underbellies as he went and finally stabbing the one poised to attack the dwarves and sliding to a halt on his knees, bringing his bow up with an arrow already on the string. Aimed directly at Thorin's forehead.
"Do not think I will not kill you Dwarf," he spat as at least twenty other elves appeared from the trees, surrounding them with twenty arrows pointed at the dwarfs and Lostoriel. "It would be my pleasure."
Lostoriel gritted her teeth, she had had enough of almost dying for one day. The elf wasted no time. She stumbled over to the newcomer; her stinging wound and blood- soaked clothes forgotten as she swayed drunkenly.
Lostoriel held the tip of her sword under his chin, unaware of the slur in her voice, nor the foam spilling out from her mouth. "One more move and it will be the last thing you do muindor."
The following series of events Lostoriel would not remember as a tsunami of pain tore through her stomach, her knees buckled, and the forest spun around her. Everything went black and Lostoriel crumpled into his arms.
Why hello there folks!
Sorry about the unexpected delay, life happened very chaotically and I had to rework this chapter a few times before I was happy with it. But here we are now after the longest chapter of the story so far and honestly, one of my favourites!
SO, Lancelot2.O and I are working on a ficlet called Luinheneben and it's gonna be posted later today! We've been working on the ideas since earlier this year and finally found some time to start working on it. The one-shots are based mainly on Frodo, but also on his relationships with other characters and their relationships with each other. We're both really excited to share it with you all!
Thank you everyone who's been reading this story! And for favoriting and following it. And thanks for all the reviews! The last chapter was quite long and moved at a slow pace, I know... But it was necessary and ended up being a filler chapter...
ro781727: Thanks for reviewing! I uhmm had Nori said what he said about Lostoriel being a royal for the fun of it. I think he's a mischievous character...But whilst it might not be canonically accurate, it worked and sometimes I think he likes to (purposefully) forget that he is part of the noble house of Durin.
: Thank you for reviewing! They made me laugh all day! I'm so happy that you're enjoying the story so far. Thorin and Lostoriel are very stubborn, almost frustratingly so... Sometimes i wanna slap them too...
Until next time, namarie and stay safe!