I know it has been a long year for all of us since my newest updates but, to those that forgot what happened in the story I ask that you reread the story before you leave it; if you can't I have no hard feelings if you unfollow. Hopefully, you can read it after I complete it. Thank you for giving my writing love while I had a hard time loving anything really.

Anyway! Thank you to everyone who favorited and followed! And a special thank you to reviewers. Every kind word is appreciated – and constructive criticism is welcome.

****I ALMOST FORGOT - HAPPY HOLIDAYS ALL! MERRY EVERYTHING AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!****

Carlypso, Faron Oakenshield, ChelseaSW6, cpaercf – Thank you for the kind words and I hope you like this part!

AmericanAsFuck – Thank you so much for the kind words! I read your comment just as I was finishing up the rough draft and it motivated me hurry along and post today! I have the next chapter outlined and I hope I will get it posted sooner, but until then may this tide you over! I'm dedicating this chapter to you and Buckbeak3798!

Buckbeak3798 – I totally see your point. I actually see Thorin being more awkward when it comes to love, which automatically equals more grumpiness from The King Under the Mountain. However, in my approach in writing him I took a little more from the books; he has a silver tongue and known for long winded speeches. Just letting you know my thoughts and thank you for the kind words! This one is for you and AmericanAsFuck!

dragonegyptianblue – Yeah Dwalin needed it. As for Balin he doesn't really have a problem with Tahna, but he needs to recognize that she isn't Cirema. This also means that he has to understand that their relationship isn't necessarily the same as his and Cirema's. It will all work out though.

angel897 – Yep. The forest is gonna be a large part of the next section and not much of it is good. I hope that lighthearted segment will see us through Mirkwood.

I've decided to do a story recommendations corner for my lovely friends here on FF. Cherrybombb has requested some Fili and Kili stories this time around and I will be happy to oblige. I'm gonna do one of each; let me know if you need more!

filimeala: Zundushinh. (Fili/OC) *In progress*

BrightPinkPineapple: The Heir and The Librarian. (Kili/OC) *In progress*

ThePhantominthemists: Phantom of Erebor. (Thorin/OC) *Complete*

Thorin awakens the following morning with a tender kiss. He smiles when his eyes clear and he can see golden eyes looking back at him. He pulls her back down towards his face for another kiss. Tahna gives him three more pecks before backing away, but not too far. Her hand brushes his cheek and he now notices the morose expression on her face.

"It's time to go," she says.

Thorin understands now the reason for her somber mood. He sits up beside her and looks around to see that all the others are sleeping still. They are the first to wake and sunlight is beginning to make its way in through the windows. In the morning light the dark circles on Tahna's face are evidence that she didn't sleep well last night. They disappear somewhat when his human love turns her head to look over their company.

"I wish there some other way," she admits, the anxiety present in her voice. "That forest is an evil place. I worry about them," she turns back to him, "and you."

He leans in and she does the same, pressing their foreheads together. He also takes her hand. "This journey is fraught with danger. The forest is no dragon, but I am no fool. It will be dangerous, but these are my kin; I have confidence in their capabilities and yours," he says.

"Share some of that with me would you?" she asks, now with a small smile on her face. Thorin returns it and is about to lean in for another kiss when they are rudely interrupted.

"You two aren't kissing are you?" asks Kili. He is lying down by the ranger's feet. Tahna looks down at her brother with a pink tinge to her cheeks. With a swift kick of her leg she digs her heel into the young prince's rump. He yelps, more in surprise than pain, and quickly the others rise from the noise.

"Good, you're awake," says Thorin. "Collect your things; today we make for Mirkwood." He gives Tahna's hand one more squeeze, before rising to collect their supplies for the journey ahead.

It is a cool morning as the sun begins to rise over the last peaks of the Misty Mountains. The company loads its provisions in the saddles of our new mounts. Gandalf has a black stallion and I have a dappled mare. The rest of the company ride ponies of a painted breed. Since breakfast there has been a heavy anxiety about the company. Even now there is no talking, but quiet concentration. Bilbo and Bofur, our two most talkative members are subdued at best. We mount our horses and ponies with some hesitation as we turn them toward the dark wood. Behind us I can hear Beorn speak; even he sounds affected by our trepidation.

"We must hurry if you are to reach the forest before nightfall. Your hunters will catch up with you so I will follow while you still have the light," says Beorn.

The orcs do not frighten me; I could end them with ease if they reach us before the forest. I remember running into the forest, how quickly the light faded. It almost felt like an eternal night once you enter, it's slightly better in the day, but even then it's not enough. Then there are times when slivers of light cut through the dark making it look you made it to the end of the wood, but once you reach it you would find yourself more lost than before.

Gandalf takes the lead with Thorin right behind him; I'm situated somewhere in the middle. Once the horses and ponies take off, I can feel my breath hitching in my chest as we ride off to the one place on this earth I would rather never return to. The silence of the dwarves remains like a heavy weight on our shoulders, but nothing feels heavier than the stone settling in my stomach.

We ride hard trying to avoid any possible encounter with the orc hunting party. Within a few hours and with plenty of time before dark, the forest appears; altogether too soon for my liking. I can see it looming over the smaller groves we pass. The branches look knotted, ranging in colors of brown, black, and silver deadwood. It stretches endlessly both north and south, like a wall full of openings that lead only to death. When I can see the ivory antlers indicating the entrance to the Elven Path, I stop. The ponies fly by me as I note the dead ivy growing over the elvish monument. It looks worse than when I was last here; the meeting point for Hadrien and Tauriel had been only a mile or so north of here when I saw it last. The disease, according to Tauriel, stems from an old fortress in the south which had once been occupied by the same darkness that dwells in Mordor. I recall the conversation we shared at Rivendell regarding the state of the Greenwood; it has spread farther than I could have imagined.

My lower half feels as though it has turned to stone. My heartbeat is in my ears and my mouth is dry. The rest of the company has passed me, but my horse seems as content as I not to continue further.

"Lass?" I look over to see Bombur, who had been the last of the dwarrow to leave the grove. He must've turned around to check in with me. I can see the others looking back at me as they start to dismount their ponies. "Lass, are you alright? You look like you just met Mandos."

A dark chuckle escapes me, "Somehow that sounds less terrifying right about now."

The others begin to wave us over and calling for us. I give a nod to Bombur and we both continue forward, but admittedly at a much slower pace. As we reach the others, I can hear Gandalf telling the others about the road.

"This is the Elven Gate," the wizard announces. "Here lies our path through Mirkwood." Despite the confidence in his voice, he enters the marble monument cautiously to check the area.

"No sign of orcs," says Dwalin. "Good to see the skin changer honored his word."

The mention of the bear-man seems to remind Gandalf suddenly:

"Set the ponies loose and let them return to their master."

There are some grumbles from the dwarrow, but they do as they are told. I dismount my horse and watch Gandalf disappear a little further as he searches for nearby threats. I can see Bilbo following a few yards behind the wizard. Keeping his distance, but also keeping an eye on his friend.

"This forest feels sick," he says to no one in particular, "as if a disease lies upon it." I can hear the agitation in his voice and he is shuffling his feet nervously. From what Bilbo told me of his life in the Shire, hobbits share a love of things that grow; it must be natural for him sense when they die too.

"It's not just any disease," I whisper to myself, "It's the oldest sickness this world has ever known." Someone touches me and I jump, hand reaching for my sword. It's Thorin. I hang my head shamefully and release my sword. He takes my hand which I can now see is shaking uncontrollably. "I'm sorry," I whisper to him.

He looks up at me sadly. "There is nothing to be sorry for," he says. Not sure what else to say I turn and begin unsaddling my horse. Thorin stays by my side as I do so, but like all dwarrow, he is weary of the large animal.

I look towards the wood, the darkness not nearly as prevalent in the light of the day. However, the longer I look, I begin to see something in the shadows and as the wind picks up I think I can hear the woods taunting me; it's a male voice is low, deep and eerily reminiscent of the Pale Orc. In a small fit of panic, I search my pack for my mask and when I find it, I attach it to my face. From this distance the wood should have no effect, but it seems even that has changed.

When I look at Thorin again he seems displeased. "What?" I ask.

"I hated that thing before we exchanged kisses, but now…" he says jokingly. His humor is appreciated, but ultimately falls flat. I take his hand and squeeze it for comfort. He looks like he is going to say something else, but is interrupted by Gandalf.

"Not my horse," he calls out. "I have need of it."

"You aren't leaving?" asks an incredulous Bilbo. Many of the dwarrow share the sentiment from the shocked looks on their faces. I feel my shakes getting worse, particularly in my legs. Gandalf had been my only hope against the elves, but it seems that I'm out of luck.

"I wouldn't leave if it could be avoided," replies Gandalf sadly. Bilbo pulls the wizard aside for a moment, speaking in hushed tones. As they spoke Thorin turns me back toward him.

"Birizibine, if you wish to find another route and rejoin us beyond the wood none of us would hold it against you," Thorin says placatingly. "I would not put you in danger if I can protect you."

I shake my head instantly. "I swore I would not leave you. I know what to expect in there. I'm needed here," I say as I squeeze his hand a little tighter.

"You are shaking with fear and it is your life that is threatened by simply being here. We are resourceful and can continue on without you if need be," he reasons.

"I know you could, but I don't think Durin himself could get through this forest unaffected," I say. "It is an evil place and I know what it means for me if we are caught, but I am more afraid for the company. If something were to happen while I was away and I could have prevented it…I would never forgive myself." Rain began to fall, but is threatening to pour from the darkened sky. It is almost as if it is pushing us toward the wood for shelter; a frightening prospect to say the least.

"I am also afraid," says Thorin. I look him in the eyes, surprised to hear him say that out loud. He entwines one of my hands with his and brings it to his heart. "But it must be done. My people need Erebor and my family…I need to get them home. I swear to my Maker that I will protect you with my life and we shall pass through this nightmare together." He places his other hand on my back and I use it to center and focus on my breathing.

As I calm down I say, "Promise me you'll be with me the whole time."

"I will not leave you, I swear," he answers. My stomach is still uneasy, but at least the shaking stops.

"I will wait for you at the overlook before the slopes of Erebor," says Gandalf suddenly. He approaches on his horse, but he turns towards Thorin. "Keep the map and key safe. Do not enter that mountain without me."

As he turns away we start toward the forest and it feels a little bit like a march towards certain death. Then the wizard adds, almost like an afterthought. "You mustn't stray from the path or else you'll never find it again." With that he rides back the way we came without another word.

Thorin uses the hand on my back to guide me toward the wood. He is trying to guide me without being forceful, but being near the front of the group made him push me a little. I knew couldn't leave them, but that doesn't change the fact that I am uneasy.

"We must make haste," Thorin says to all. "Durin's Day will soon be upon us and we must be ready when it is." My feet feel like stones and when the first shadow passes over my skin there is a chill on my skin. With each beat of my heart is part of a chant, acting like a focus: 'There is no choice. This has to be done. There is no going back now.'

The darkness closes in very quickly. We lost the light from the entrance of the path before half an hour passed. The rainclouds aid in blocking the sun and quickly creating the appearance of night, despite that sunset is still hours away. We light a few torches and continue onward. The thick layer of foliage along the top of the wood shields our light from the water above, but also serves to thicken the air. I can hear the others breathing heavily and I feel the tension on my skin, but Galadriel's mask keeps my breathing easy. Thankfully, other than the oppressive air, nothing happens for several hours.

We take turns leading the group, using long-handled weapons to make sure the stone path remains below our feet in the darkness. The loss of the light has made progress slow, causing us to stop to make camp sooner than we anticipated. The dwarrow, who are known for their capacity to see in the dark and work in still mountain air, are feeling strained; Dori says as much as we climb over some overgrown tree roots. We make camp for the night on the path with one guard facing the way we came and another facing the road ahead. I took the road ahead for the early hours of the evening. It's not easy staring into the darkness with a fire behind you, making the shadows appear to dance between the trees.

My senses are dulled here and trying to use my ranger capabilities is exhausting. I can hear animals moving beyond the trees, all I can smell is decay of the land, and all I can see is darkness. My mind is telling me to turn and run back out the way we came, but I set that instinct aside. Protecting my company is all that matters now and I let that part of the nature overtake my need for self-preservation.

"Lass," says Bofur as he approaches. The others have been murmuring quietly by the fire, but never too loudly; allowing those of us on watch the chance to hear an approaching enemy. I turn only a little to reply and accept the meal, but just as I did I see a cloud of moths emerge from the tops of the trees. The bodies of the insects are as big as the dwarrow's hands with long black and grey wings. We all try to swat them away, but it does little to deter them. The battle only comes to end when Balin and a couple others douse the fire; once the flying fiends leave I return to my post. I try to maneuver my food gingerly into my mouth in the pitch-dark. It's surprising how much you rely on sight to eat. After finishing my meal, I pass it back to the nearest dwarrow by placing the bowl directly in their hand; then he passes it along, and so on until it reaches Bombur.

With nothing else to be done the others turn in. I continue my watch on the gloom, my eyes adjusting better to the dark of the wood now that the firelight is gone. The quiet has mostly settled when I feel a hand at my back.

"It's me," says Thorin.

"Rest," I respond. "I will wake you soon."

He grunts in acknowledgement and settles down behind me so we are back to back. It is a trait from the early days of our adventure; when we are on the road, where danger could come from anywhere he sits up rather than lay down. In the dark with nothing in the path to lean on, it would appear I am his chosen perch; not that it bothers me one bit. I pull down the mask a little and turn my head to press my lips into his hair before replacing it. His response is to take one of the braids resting on my shoulder and gently rub the bead between his fingers until he finally drifts off.

At some point on the second day the air that has begun to suffocate my friends.. At one point, whether or not Bofur is aware, he shouts aloud, begging for air to breathe. His desperate plea feels like an arrow to the heart. So in the darkness I step to the side of the path, allowing the others to pass me. Once I see the shadowy outline of his hat. I place a hand on his shoulder, indicating he stops. With great trepidation I remove my mask and I can see what he means. The air is thick and breathing it in feels a little like a slow suffocation.

I am lucky that I have had my mask until this point. It takes a few moments before my body realizes it isn't choking and I can focus again. I take my knife and prick my finger. Blood wells along my fingertip before I smear it along the top of the mask were the elvish inscription is carved. It worked for me because of the blood magic we had added during the forging, but it wouldn't work for others unless I used a little blood. There is a small glow in the lettering as I press it to Bofur's mouth. Once he realizes his breathing has become so much easier he clings to the mask and takes in large breathes.

"Thank ye, lass," he says. "Thank ye…"

"Of course, Bofur," I say, "You need only ask."

The others have all stop because of us and Thorin tells us to take a break before we continue on. Once Bofur said he felt better, Dori asks for a turn for Ori, so I pass it to them and so on. As the others pass the mask around I could feel a headache forming as my body tried to fight off the sickness that inhabits the forest. The dizziness and pain is all too familiar, but luckily it never reaches the point where I begin to see things. It is a couple hours later before we continue on once more. Upon the return of my mask, all I can feel is relief.

Three days later we have limited provisions, some water, and the constant, oppressive darkness of the forest. In those days we would occasionally stop and share the enchantment in my mask; however, I can feel the effectiveness of the mask waning, but I don't say anything. I wear the mask most of the time and they only ask for it occasionally, but I can feel it taking longer for me to recover each time I remove it.

We come across a large stream; it must flow north towards the Forest River that passes the Palace of the Elvenking. It is rushing, black water as far as we can tell in the darkness. I can feel my lips curl in disgust. Some of the others try to fill their water skins with the water lapping at the shore, but I pull them away. It is tempting to the thirsty, but every ranger recognizes poison.

In the dark, Bilbo manages to see a boat resting near the shore and collects it with Fili's help. Thorin then breaks us up into pairs as we cross the murky waters. I cross first by myself, using the rope hanging across the gap to reach the other side; then using the other hook they caught the boat with to drag the boat back. I keep watch as the others make their way across. I can feel the exhaustion settling in and I want nothing more than to sleep for the rest of my days.

Thorin and Bilbo are the first to make it across. They focus on returning the boat to the others, but mine focuses on an animal I sense moving towards us from the wood. My search is short when I see a pale buck running towards us. I follow it with my eyes, but I dare not move. The beast eventually settles in the middle of the road ahead. It stares at us with an intelligent look in its eyes and I can feel myself becoming unsettled. Thranduil favors deer and elk over the horses commonly found in the other realms of the Free People. I have no doubt in my mind that this deer is his, but why has it travelled so far from the safety of the remaining Greenwood?

Does he know? Has this creature been sent to spy on us? My fear is spiking and becoming heightened with my exhaustion. I turn my head speak to Thorin when I hear Bilbo shout to me. I immediately assume some threat snuck up behind me. I don't make a noise as an arrow barely avoids my face. I see the blur of the fletching as it passes by my eyes and my heart stops. I complete my pivot to see who my attacker might be; imagine my surprise to see Thorin holding the bow.

I hear the stag behind us as it runs away, but I can't tear my eyes away from the son of Thrain. His eyes widen and the bow lowers as if he's seeing me standing there for the first time. I can feel my hands shaking a little and my mouth is dry; the sudden fear still permeating my mind and body. Nori came up behind him to ask:

"Did you get it? Did you get the meat?"

Bilbo, who tried to warn me and saw the whole thing, turns Nori away so that we can have a moment. Thorin drops his bow on the path and approaches me with haste. He sticks his hands out, almost like a child asking to be held. I lean down and his hands cradle my face, I can feel the tremors running through him.

"Birizibine, einkhish," he says as he draws me closer to kiss my face. First he presses his lips to my temple, then my forehead, and then the bridge of my nose. I bring my mask down and he kisses my lips. "I'm sorry, amralime. I did not see you. When I shot I did not see you there, I swear. I wouldn't have risked it…"

I kiss him back in return, running my fingers through his hair. Knowing it wasn't intentional stills my anxiety; I was afraid he had mistaken me for an enemy and missed. I rewet the mask with a little blood and place it on his face. The headache is instant and my lungs feel like they are on fire. I kneel down next to him as the rough stones of the path dig into my knees. I lean into him and listen to his breathing as he gets some of the first fresh air he has had all day.

"It's alright, Thorin," I say calmly. "It's alright, my heart. I believe you." I lean my forehead against his as he continued to shake a little. "The forest is affecting you, my love. Just breathe, just breathe."

He takes in several deep breathes. I watch, becoming mesmerized by the way his chest rises and falls. I hold his hand the entire time to comfort him as well as myself.

"Bombur has fallen in! Help!" yells Bilbo.

We both look up to see that most of the others have reached the other side of the stream and walk along the embankment anxiously. Dwalin is charging toward the water trying to reach the boat near the shore where it has overturned. Dori joins Dwalin as they hoist Bombur from the water. I tie the mask around Thorin's face in a loose knot so we can rejoin the others.

"What happened?" I ask anyone.

"I guess Bombur thought he reached the shore. He stood up all of a sudden and he fell out," says Ori. "We tried to tell him to wait because the boat was stuck, but I guess he didn't hear us."

Once they got Bombur to the shore, it seems as though he is unconscious. His eyes didn't open, but he almost seems relaxed like he hadn't nearly drowned. Oin tilts him on his side to remove any excess water in his mouth and lungs.

"Is he dead?" asks Bofur with tears in his eyes.

"No," responds Oin. "His breathing is even and his pulse is steady. He's just sleeping." He backs away from the stout dwarrow, wiping the dirt from his hands as he does so.

"He must be having good dreams," says Bilbo as he observes the smile on the large dwarrow's face; there is a faint hint of jealousy in tone.

His brother and cousin try to wake him, but to no avail. It seems the stream is enchanted, but at least not lethal. We rest for some hours, each member taking yet another turn the mask. Eventually, we have to move on so the others create a makeshift litter for Bombur. The strongest of us take the first bearing positions – Dori, Dwalin, Thorin, and Bifur. The deficit of fighting numbers forces us to take a more defensive formation, which also means we are now also moving slower. I took Bifur and Dwalin's packs they had been carrying; Kili took Thorin's and Nori took Dori's.

This means we would be stuck in Mirkwood even longer. It's not a good outlook, but at least Bombur is still with us and that is some victory. The others begin moving down the path as I finish adjusting my belt to keep my blade accessible. When I look back for a final time my heart stops. Across the stream, where our company once stood, I can clearly see Gliwen waving at me. She has a sad smile on her face and her eyes are still the same unearthly color blue. It feels like ice is covering my body as I turn away to catch up with the others.

"Bilbo?" I call.

The small man turns towards me. It is strange seeing him wear my mask; not only is it too big, but the harsh color and smear of blood hardly fits the rest of Bilbo's attire. His eyes are the clearest they have been all day and I think he recognizes the panic in my voice. That's good because my heart feels like it's about to beat out of my chest at this point.

"Can I have the mask? Please," I ask, though the please is almost an afterthought.

He hands it back with no hesitation and a quiet "thank you." I put it back on my face and that first breath, while refreshing, provides little relief. It almost feels like no matter how many breathes I take it will never fully remove the pressure from my lungs. Because of that weight, I don't look back; afraid that the shade will still be on the other side of the river. Instead, I press my hand on Bilbo's shoulder and urge him forward with me. We need to get out of this forest as quickly as possible.

We all took our respective turns carrying Bombur's weight for the next six days. To add on top of that, we have officially run out of food. Fili and I tried to capture some of the small grey squirrels that ran through the branches and scarce brush, but they tasted akin to eating rot, despite being cooked. We gave up on them after the first meal. I have some luck digging up a few large beetles from the roots of trees along the path and several grubs in the tree rot. They have an earthy taste, but are at least stomachable. We are even lucky enough to come across a carcass of some sort; maybe a deer. I left the path, but remained within sight of the company. I collect the maggots with a delicate manner as to not cut my hand on any bone; the last thing I need is an infection. I put as many in my empty ration bag as I can. Once rinsed and fried it could make do for a meal. Many of the others are disgusted with my find, but it would be a necessity within a day; rangers can make a meal out of anything when faced with starvation. As long as our water could hold out we could make it.

At one point during the sixth day, Thorin exclaims from the front of the line, "Is there no end to this accursed forest!?"

It seems the others are of the same mind and the comment only adds dismay to our company. I look to my left, seeing Oin struggling with Bombur's weight. I tap him on his shoulder and I can see his body is exhausted as it shakes under Bombur's weight. I motion for him to switch places with me. Though my arms ache from my last turn, I'm motivated by one thought.

"All things must end, Thorin. Even this fucking place," I answer him. It doesn't brighten any moods in this dark place, but it does continue us forward with a set and grim determination.

Then the rain came and I call us to stop. With dead foliage the water is difficult to collect, but I get by with Oin's Trumpet and Bofur's hat as water reservoirs. It is on this sixth night that Bombur wakes. It saddens me to learn that the stream apparently stole his memories of our time together. The last thing he does remember is the party at Bilbo's house. The oppressive darkness of the forest is momentarily forgotten as everyone takes a turn telling Bombur the story of what has happened in the gap of his memory. Bombur has a hard time believing the magnificent tales, but the resolve of the others is very sincere, if not a little hilarious.

He told us about his dreams of food and drink, but he isn't allowed to lament long; one quick snap from Dwalin is enough to quiet the large dwarrow. I feel a little sad for him when his face fell, but when I catch sight of Balin shortening up his belt again, my sympathies wane. We ate even portions of the larva, now with little hesitation from the others. I feel so tired that the movement of Mirkwood which has been present since our first night in the forest is not enough to keep me awake. Many of the others are also dozing, but then Balin calls out that he sees something in the darkness. I can't see it, but when Dwalin confirms his brother's sighting. Thorin decides to have us approach with absolute caution and remain out of sight.

Once we reach our destination we discover they are torches leading away from the path. No one is present, but none of the possible culprits made me comfortable. The others are curious where it might lead, but considering where we are I know it can mean nothing good. Thorin also quickly recognizes the danger.

"We will move further down the path until the lights cannot be seen," he orders.

We trudge along in the darkness and once the lights disappear completely we stop again. It's wet, it's warm, and it's dark; the need for sleep weighing on my eyes with the force of a hammer. I hope and pray for all of this to end soon. We are hungry, thirsty, exhausted, but somehow still not at the end. I knew it would only be worse tomorrow, but I don't think I could have ever guessed how much…

We have barley start the day when things went wrong. Nori lost track of the path in the morning and when we attempt to back track we find ourselves lost only further. To prevent it from getting even worse, I convince the others to stop until we find our bearings. Unfortunately, what is supposed to be restful reprieve quickly builds from chatter to shouts. I'm not sure what starts the fight, but from what I gather a couple members of the company blame Nori for getting them lost. Then his brothers stand up in his defense and then the others jump in, taking sides. Thorin and Dwalin do their best to break it up, but it's simmering and waiting to boil over. I look up through the trees to see if there is any sign of light peaking through, but find nothing. I try grabbing a branch above me, but as I slowly start adding weight I can feel it starting to give in my hands so I give up. Then I feel something brush my leg. Bilbo is playing in a web, unaware that his heel even touched me. Then an idea forms in my head.

"Bilbo?" I ask. He looks over at me with a dazed look in his eye. "Could you climb this tree?" He looks confused. "If you can get above the trees and see which direction the sun moving or even see where the mountain is, then we can go in that direction and try getting out of here that way." That explanation makes sense to him and he nods his head gently, but then becomes somewhat suspicious.

"Why can't you do it?" he asks.

I grab another branch and put all my weight on it and it snaps off in my hands. "I'm too heavy. Believe me, my friend, I wouldn't send you up there if it could be helped." Luckily, he was very accepting of my answer and starts to climb. I help him reach one of the lower branches and he quickly steadies himself. I watch him as he continues upward until something roughly pushes me in the back. I don't fall over from the shove, but I do lose sight of Bilbo and when I turn around I see Gloin recovering. He must have fallen back into me, but before anything can be said, the ginger dwarrow is charging at Fili. Beside them are Dori and Kili, shoving each other rather violently. I move to intervene, but something moves behind Kili. There is a small ridge, which might hide a creature so I watch keenly; thinking it might be a wolf stalking us. That's when I realize what I thought was a rock is shifting slightly. Then what I thought are the trunk of small trees or perhaps large, dead sticks lean to and fro unnaturally, considering that there is no wind. It's a creature of some kind; I can't tell how large or even what it is as it is still partly hidden in the trees.

Kili falls from a strong push by Dori and lands ever closer to the thing in the wood. It moves over the hill and I can see it is two to three times Kili's size. Then the beast pulls its body up on its legs and moves away from the trees slowly. I can see it now; it's a spider. All eight of its eyes glitter as it watches Kili. I close my eyes momentarily, trying to see if it's just my imagination and would disappear. However, an exhausted Kili didn't move quickly to get up and the nightmarish thing moved ever closer.

I could not hesitate any longer; it would kill him if I did. I drew my sword and ran right for the arachnid. Kili's name rang through my throat until it ached. He moves as though he thought I meant to attack him, unaware of the danger behind him; but the spider knew I saw it and it skitters toward me. I make several slashes at the thing and it dodges each time. It tries to bite me when it thought it sees an opening, but meets my elvish steel instead. It makes a noise like a shriek, countering with two of its legs; thrusting them at me with great speed. Luckily, Dori and Fili are fast to act and block each leg, leaving me open to stick it in the belly. It makes one more sharp noise before turning on its side and curling up into itself.

"Look at the size of it," murmurs Bofur. The company scans the forest for another attack. I find myself trying to catch my breath desperately. I hadn't anticipated the sharing of my mask affecting my fighting stamina. This isn't good…

"We need to move," says Thorin as he too, watches the trees anxiously.

"We need to wait for Bilbo," I start, "He's climbing-"

Pain erupts along my lower back; it's worse than a stabbing because of the burning sensation that quickly overwhelms me. My scream takes all the air from my lungs and I feel my limbs go numb. Even though I feel the weight of my body collapsing toward the ground, I find myself being lifted towards the trees. When I look behind me I see a large brown spider, snapping its pincers excitedly. It's the last thing I see as my world goes black.

It has been a couple of hours since Bilbo's friends were captured by the spiders. With a little luck Bilbo had woken up and escaped his eight-legged captor. He follows the other spiders to their nest where the company awaits consumption. With the help of his magic ring he manages to sneak in undetected. He can see that they are being held at the center of the webbing. The spiders scurry around them, speaking in voices that sound like dark whispers; they blend with the dark world of the ring. Lucky for the dwarves, Bilbo cleverly devises a distraction that draws the spiders away from his friends long enough to cut them down from their perches. The spider webs act like a brace, allowing the company to land on the ground with relative ease.

He counts his companions as he goes and with the final cut he removes his ring and replaces it in his pocket. Balin calls up to him from below and with a quick response, he begins his descent from the tree. His companions are quick to spring from their cocoons; all, except for one. By the time he returned his feet to the Earth below, their tallest companion has still not risen from her slumber. The others have torn the webs off of her face, but she's pale and unmoving. Her brothers remove the rest of webs surrounding her arms and legs, but she still does not move.

"What's wrong with her Oin?" asks Thorin as he cradles her face. Oin turns her to her side and examines the initial puncture wound from the spider.

"We all received paralyzing venom from those eight-legged vermin. Our shorter stature allowed it to pass quickly through our bodies. Hers has yet to pass," Oin says. "She'll be fine." There is a small sigh of relief. Bilbo tries to usher his friends along and find a way to get Tahna out before the spiders return.

He only manages to look up just in time, "Look out!"

The spiders began descending the trees and the others take up a defensive position around their invalid ranger. Bilbo fights the beasts alongside the company; with the help of Dwalin and Bofur they manage to defeat two large spiders. Then one of the smaller spiders comes after Bilbo while the others are fighting off other adversaries. Unfortunately, what it lacks in size it makes up for in speed and strength. Bilbo is able to block several attacks, but is quickly pushed out of the protective circle of dwarves. One of those strikes pushes Bilbo into a rock, knocking him off his feet. The spider sees Bilbo's fall as an opportunity for a killing blow, but Bilbo slips on his magic ring just in time. His advisory stops, spinning in a circle on its eight, wiry legs; confused about the hobbit's whereabouts. Bilbo raises his sword to strike his unassuming enemy, when an arrow narrowly misses Bilbo and strikes the spider in the eye.

The suddenness of the arrow's appearance causes Bilbo to forget he's invisible and seeks out cover from a fallen tree. The shaft came from above and when he looks up he can see about two dozen elves maneuvering through the dead branches of the trees. They pass him by and quickly converge on his friends. He knows what this means for his friends, especially Tahna. He refuses to go far so the hobbit remains near the tree line to observe his friends. He knows not to jump in lest he get struck by a stray weapon or discovered by the elves.

The elves quickly kill most of the remaining spiders and then turn their arrows on the dwarves. Bilbo could feel himself swallow hard with anxiety. Beorn had been right; these elves are not like the ones in Rivendell at all. The leader speaks briefly with Thorin:

"Do not think I will not kill you dwarf. It would be my pleasure."

From further away, Kili releases a cry as he tries to run away from three spiders, who managed to be separated from the others, much like Bilbo had. The hobbit travels along the tree line until he is closer to Kili. The spawn of Ungoliant nearly caught up with the unarmed dwarf, when a red haired elleth quickly began to dispatches them, barely sparing the dwarf prince a glance.

"Throw me a dagger, quick," he pleads with her. As one of the three spiders follows him unceasingly.

"If you think I'm going to give you a weapon, you are sorely mistaken," she says as she kills two of the spiders simultaneously. Once she finishes she throws her dagger into the final spider's head, killing it instantly. Now that the danger has passed Kili and Tauriel finally see each other for the first time.

"Tauriel," breathes Kili. The elleth's eyes are wide with surprise and recognition of the dwarf. Then she looks at the other dwarves. There is no human among them, but she gave off a clear expression of fear and worry. She looks like she's going to ask Kili something, but the leader and another elf come to her. One takes away Kili, returning him to the others.

"Gyrth in yngyl bain?" asks the leader.

"Ennorner gwanod in yngyl nan yryn. Engain nar," she replies distractedly. From Bilbo's vantage point her eyes lock on the ground. Between the movements of the dwarves, the she-elf can see Tahna, barely starting to move from her sleep. She just stares at her and there is a look of pain on her face.

"Search them," the leader calls out. They strip the dwarves of their weapons and one elf brings forth Orcrist, handing it off the commanding elf. Another elf, whom Bilbo watches as he rips the sword from Tahna's grip, brings Locelnehtar to the leading elf. Tauriel and the dwarves look equally displeased with her treatment, but the elf is oblivious to their disdain. The leader stands before Thorin, examining the confiscated blades. "Echannen i vegil hen vin Gondolin. Magannen nan Gelydh," he says then looks Thorin in the eye. "Where did you get these?"

"They were given to us," answers Thorin. This response puts the point of Orcrist's blade at his throat; the young prince of the wood glaring at him from the other end.

"Not just a thief, but a liar as well," he accuses.

"They are not lying, Legolas," responds Tauriel immediately. At this Legolas looks up at her incredulously. "I was there when Lord Elrond of Imladris, gifted those blades to them." At this Thorin looks over at the elleth as if seeing her for the first time. He doesn't recognize her from their time in Rivendell. Then he sees her looking at Tahna, almost with tears in her eyes. An elf friend had assisted their escape from the Last Homely House; the one Tahna told him she had promised never to enter the land on which they stood. The look in her eyes tells him exactly who she is.

Legolas lowers the sword and approaches, trying to see what has distracted the captain of the guard so. However, he quickly finds that the dwarves aren't going to let them through. Rather than bother telling them to move he looks to the other elves.

"Enwenno hain!"

Following his orders, the others elves grab the dwarves and put them in manacles, leading them single file out of the web filled glen. When the prince finally saw what the dwarves had been protecting he knelt down. A human female with golden eyes looks up at him, not really seeing, but sensing his presence she turns her head towards him. He remembers who she is and her last visit to the Greenwood, which explains why Tauriel is so affected.

"Nasala nidhan sad dal bo hindorath. Togis dan iarnad. Adaren innas penia eamarth," he commands. He beckons over another member of their party to pick her up, but Tauriel grabs the other elf's hand before he can touch her.

"Baw!" she drops to her knees and gathers up the woman in her arms. "Iminnas halin." As the ranger lolls in her arms she cradles her head when she tries turning to see who holds her. Tauriel's pain is evident as she began the longest walk of her immortal life. As she passes the other elves, they look confused by her behavior, but she ignores them.

"Amman? Amman carodh carsen, Tahna?" she whispers.

Bilbo follows alongside the sorrowful elf captain quietly. Much like her, he feared the worst for his friend, but he also knew he might be her only hope.

Khuzdul Translations:

Birizibine – my golden gem

Einkhish – I'm sorry

Amarlime – My love

Sindarin Translations:

Gyrth in yngyl bain? – Are the spiders dead?

Ennorner gwanod in yngyl nan yryn. Engain nar. – Yes, but more will come. They are growing bolder.

Echannen i vegil hen vin Gondolin. Magannen nan Gelydh. – This is an ancient Elvish blade. Forged by my kin.

Enwenno hain! – Take them!

Nasala nidhan sad dal bo hindorath. - She is not supposed to set foot on these lands.

Togis dan iarnad. - Bring her back to the kingdom.

Adaren innas penia eamarth. - My father can decide her fate.

Baw! – No!

Iminnas halin. - I will carry her.

Amman? Amman carodh carsen, Tahna? - Why? Why did you do this, Tahna?

I apologize again for my attempt at Sindarin, if it bugs you too much feel free to correct me and I will give you credit and a shout out. Also I skipped an editing session because I ran out of ink and I want you all to have it for Christmas Day! Next time we enter the unwelcoming realm of the Elvenking…