Quick Note: After a few paragraphs which describe Mirkwood, you may see a little "*". This * symbolizes that many of these sentences are taken from J.R. Tolkien's, The Hobbit, chapters seven and eight [Queer Lodgings and Flies and Spiders]. I was going to describe Mirkwood to you in my own words; but I reread the Hobbit and I do not think there is any way I can describe Tolkien's vision to you better than he can. Some of the sentences are mine, plugged in there to make it apply to this story instead of The Hobbit but most of it is Tokien's. I do not have permission to use it, but I make no money in writing this and I only claim copyright on my Original Characters and circumstances.
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Next day they started before dawn, though their night had been short. No one had been able to sleep much, and the elves awoke all at the first sign of the sun. They walked in the dark, in silence for a long while; soft, long grasses swished quietly against their legs as they slipped like shadows towards the silhouette of darkness. As soon as it was light, they could see forest coming as it were to meet them, or waiting for them like a black and frowning wall before them. The land began to slope up and up, and it seemed to the company that a silence, thicker even then the night before, began to draw in upon them. Birds began to sing less. There were no more deer; not even rabbits were to be seen. No one spoke, but they paused in unison at the start of the great forest. They were resting almost beneath the great overhanging boughs of its outer trees, their eyes locked on the dark, forbidding obstacle before them. Their trunks were huge and gnarled, their branches twisted, their leaves were dark and long. Ivy grew on them and trailed to the ground.*
"I forgot how...big..it is," Krystal whispered delicately, her voice slashing the silence. It had been on the tip of her tongue to say 'ugly', though in its own, dark, mysterious way it was sort of beautiful, but the look on Legolas's face stopped her. Many eyes had swung towards the Prince of Mirkwood, though he acted as if he did not notice.
Annore, of course, had lost his manners and a decent part of his sanity, and said bluntly to the elf, "This is your kingdom?"
Legolas turned eyes dark as storm clouds eyes towards the man, who stared back, but diminished slightly. Krystal bit back a sigh. If they started fighting now---
"I have seen the village that lies under your control," Legolas said coldly, "and it leaves much to be desired. It is neither as attractive nor large as my forest, and I'll thank you to keep your opinions, little informed as they are, to yourself. "
Annore didn't reply as Legolas turned his back towards him, and took a step into the forest. Above him, treetops laced into one and other, creating a thick, dark canopy to block the sun out of the forest. Legolas, his features thrown into sharp relief but the contrasting darkness and light, looked very solemn. His eyes racked over every little detail, from the thick, dense strands of cobwebs that were shining weakly in the elf's ethereal glow, to the gate of the forest, a sort of arch leading into a gloomy tunnel made by two great trees that leant together, too old and strangled with ivy and hung with lichen to bear more than a few blackened leaves. The path itself was narrow and wound in and out among the trunks, and the trees seemed to lean towards Legolas and watch him as he studied his surroundings. In the depths of the darkness, they could see a little way to either side in the darkened green glimmer. Occasionally a slender beam of sun that had the luck to slip in through some opening in the leaves far above, and still more luck in not being caught in the tangled boughs and matted twigs beneath, stabbed down bright and thin before them.*
Legolas inhaled deeply, breathing in the musky scent many of the trees seemed to give off, and smiled slightly. "It is good to be home," he whispered.
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They slowly headed into the forest, single file on the increasingly dark path. As they walked, they talked, Glorifindel and Legolas in the lead as Elrohir and Elladan told stories of the old ages of Middle Earth. Krystal, who was trying to keep her mind off of the darkness creeping around and the strange sounds of the underbrush, poised a question that she had been wondering about for a long time. She had heard many of the elves whisper, 'Eärendil is bright tonight' on clear, crisp nights in Rivendell, and even on this journey. But when she looked up Eärendil in Rivendell's library, it said he was a man - not a star. Why was he so special to the elves? She didn't realize that this would send Elrohir lecturing about the history of middle earth for a good twenty minutes, but the steady rise and fall of his melodious voice, softened by Legolas and Glorifindel's quiet whispers of conference, calmed many of the group...even if they had stopped listening long ago.
"..and then, just when all hope had seemed lost, Elwing, clutching the precious jewel to her neck, threw herself into the cerulean of the dark sea. Rather, she decided, it was better that the Silmaril be lost forever, then for it to find its way to the sons of Fëanor. But Ulmo, Lord of the seas and one of the greatest of the Valar, pick my grandmother out of the sea and sent her flying through the skies in the form of a white bird, the Silmaril safety in her breast. And so, through the power of the jewel, it is said, Eärendil was at last able to find a way to the Undying Lands, and there stood before the Valar and begged their aid in the wars against Morgoth. The Valar listened to his plea, and sent the great force that finally conquered the Dark Lord and freed Middle-earth. Elwing and Eärendil were given the choice, to remain among elven-kind or to walk with the edan. Elwing chose to walk Middle Earth eternally as an elf, and for her sake, Eärendil did as well. They remained in the undying lands, but Eärendil the Marineer now sails the night sky, the light of Silmaril brightly shinning as our morning and evening star."
Krystal stared at him, her mind racing. "But didn't Eärendil and Elwing have two twin boys? What happened to them?"
Elrohir's smile, bright even the darkness, gleamed. "Ah, so you have been paying attention," he teased and she bristled. "Just barely." He chuckled and Elladan smirked, casually slipping out his sword. Krystal didn't notice, but Tharros' eyes latched onto it, and trusting in the elf's keen sense, he too slipped his sword out, prompting Annore to do the same. Within seconds, though Krystal had yet to notice anything, the entire party was on guard. Except for Elrohir, who had always preferred history and studies to battles and suspicions, and continued to tutor Krystal. "Their twin boys were indeed taken captive by the Sons of Fëanor, and carried off to the nearby forest.Maglor, one of the elves who had sworn to regain the Silmaril, took pity on the young twins and released them into the forest after a short while. They were found their latter, Elros playing in the waterfall and Elrond keeping watch in a cave just underneath."
Krystal nodded, hoisting her back higher up on her back, pushing a stray of hair out of her face -- then paused. "Elrond?"
Elrohir grinned. "Indeed." Her eyes widened, and even Annore looked up curiously. "Even I did not know the true story of Lord Elrond's childhood," the man admitted and Krystal stared. "But what happened to Elros?"
Here Elrohir looked down, and Aragorn, who was walking ahead of them, just behind Legolas, answered quietly, "Elros was only half-elven, and choose to be counted among his mortal kin. He is my ancestor, although many centuries and names lie between us." Krystal shook her head, blissfully ignorant to the hissing and whispers that were coming off to their left. Legolas halted.
"He is dead then?" She asked softly, and Elrohir, whose mind had picked up on several eight-legged shadows didn't answer, but Annore did. "There are worse things then dying, my lady," he said wryly and she shrugged. "I just meant--"
But her words were morphed into shriek as Tharros pushed her head down violently, his face suddenly changing into a focused mask of determination. "DUCK!"
Krystal dropped to the ground as arrows soared, and with a sickening thud she heard several large beings fall to the ground as dead weight. Arrows whipped the air as they flew mercilessly, and with a squeal another spider fell dead. Krystal, frustrated that she was being hovered other, as Tharros pushed his knee on her back to keep her down, glanced up slightly. Her eyes latched on a particularly large, drooling creature, hissing and spitting. It had large, yellow bulbous eyes that were gleaming hungrily at her. "Grab the weak one," one of the spiders hissed and Krystal was horrified. They can talk?! she shrieked internally, but just covered her head and waited for it to be over, though some sixth sense told her she should grab a blade and fight - but she didn't. Tharros moved forward as one of the spiders squealed and threw itself down from the treetops. His sword sang as he whirled it above his head, but he left his back unprotected and another, smaller spider seized the opportunity and lunged at the unprotected skin of his neck. Tharros screamed; he dropped to his knees. Krystal shrieked, horrified as the man struggled to get the spider off of him before the creature could sink his jaws into his flesh. "ARGH!" Tharros panted, but his comrades couldn't hear his cries for help above the scampers, stomps and shrieks of the battle. Krystal, shaking, carefully reached down into her boot and removed the large, gleaming dagger, holding it high in the air. It quickly caught the dim light and gleamed, reflected eight times over in several of the eyes of the spiders, who gathered to wait for the kill. The spiders saw the blade raised high and slowly backed away, returning to again throw themselves towards the elves, who seemed too busy to notice just one bite....
Quickly, Krystal shook the paralyzing fear from her heart and slashed the spiders, which fell dead with a cry. Tharros panted, glancing behind him, expecting to see someone else. His eyes widened when he saw she was his rescuer, and as the last spider fell dead and swords were sheath, he stood. Glancing around, he wiped the blood and sweat from his brow, grabbing her hand and jerking her to her feet. "Don't tell anyone this," he whispered under the pretense of bending down to pick up her dagger. He handed it to her, a smile on his face. "But I think we may have underestimated you."
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The attack of the spiders was the first of many, but by the third attack, they seemed to battle the beasts fairly well. Krystal, though she enjoyed Elrohir's stories for the first two hours, was beginning to tire of listening to stories about people whose names she couldn't pronounce, and was missing the quiet companionship of her other three friends. She politely engaged Tharros and Annore in an animated discussion of particular brands of horses before stealthily sneaking up to where Elladan, Legolas and Aragorn were in the lead. Legolas looked over as she walked up, her hair swinging freely and her eyes laughing as Annore looked up, saying, "Don't you agree Krystal?" only to find she had forsaken them. They grumbled good naturedly; their spirits were all amazingly high after spending several long, monotonous hours in the dark of Mirkwood, and Krystal took much of the credit. She grinned at them as Tharros shook his head, his hair having grown shaggy and falling into his eyes. "Thanks, Krys," Tharros called good naturedly, and Krystal beamed - he had called her 'Krys'. She turned back to the Legolas, Elladan and Aragorn, who simply shook their heads and chuckled, one eye on her and the other on the dangerous forest path. "So, Krystal," Legolas said, glancing up at the sky, perhaps searching for a sign of the time - they used to tell the time by the sun, but the thick leaves hid their only natural clock. The light, however little their was, inside the forest had diminished as well, and Krystal guessed it was about six o clock -- which would mean they would have been traveling for almost 11 hours, though they did stop numerous times for breaks and the occasional spider attack. "How do you fare on this journey so far?"
She shrugged. "Well," she said, "I'm having a better time then the last time I was here."
Legolas and Aragorn turned and looked at her; both of them wore identical expressions of surprise and disbelief. She grinned cheekily at them, at their flabbergasted expressions before skipping ahead of them, linking arms with a surprised Elladan and saying, "So, El, baby, what's up with you?"
Krystal was in a extraordinary good mood - they were close to their destination. The quicker they got there, the quicker they won, the quicker they returned home to Rivendell. Home. Plus, Krystal was currently getting along with everyone, except maybe Glorifindel, if only because he said maybe two words the entire time. Elladan shook his head, however, his mouth set in a firm line as Krystal, rebuffed by his dark, forbidding expression; forsake him for someone else easier to cheer up -- Legolas. He heard loud, burst of laughter behind him as he overtook the trio and took the lead, which was no problem as he had been on this path many times before. A flock of crows, which had been concealed in the oncoming darkness, took flight, startled by the loud rumbling of rambunctious laughter. Elladan looked grimly behind him, and opened his mouth to say something to tell them to control themselves; but something about Aragorn's lanky grin stopped him -- in Aragorn's eyes, the troubles of what lay ahead were laid out clearly, but in his smile was all the advice Elladan needed; Let the future worry about itself. It will be here soon enough. Live for the moment.
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Other Note: All of the information about the history of Middle Earth is taken from the Encyclopedia of Arda. I claim no ownership, and I only copyrite the oringal characters and other oringal situations. Anything with the Elwing, Elros, Elrond, Eärendil, Ulmo -- whatever, is not of my creation. The only things I claim ownership of are Krystal, her sitaution, peronsality, & history, and same for Tharros and Annore.