Shifting, unfamiliar shapes morphed and evolved before my eyes for what seemed to be forever until the mists finally moulded themselves into things I recognised. Trees. Endless trees. I was certainly sick of the sight of those gnarled trunks and their weeping, sickly leaves drooping down off of crippled branches. The whole forest was ill, terribly so. These trees shifted more than they had before I had fallen into the river.
The winds whispered, their words growing harsher by the moment. I took a step forward. Each time I made a movement, the woods seemed to creep closer, the unmoving roots edging nearer to my tiny feet. Voices climbed higher into the boughs, like the rushing of water.
Morn an vennag.
Ceaseless hissing of unfamiliar languages. I could recognise snippets of Elvish and the Common Tongue, but something else too, something coarser. Perhaps the water was sending me deep into madness, after all; trees could not talk. I knew that was not entirely true; it was spoken of amongst Hobbits that the wood of the Old Forest was gifted with speech, taught words and wisdom by the High Elves of old. The Old Forest was sure to be a thousand leagues from this sinister kin, there was no shred of goodness to be felt in the too-close air of this wood. I guessed that I was still in the realm of Mirkwood and I prayed to be out of it soon.
About me real voices rose and weaved their way to me. Melodic voices; singing in sweet Sindarin. It was not alike to the singers of Rivendell, their tones had been gentle and soft, this was a darker sound; full of mischief and malice. Nonetheless, it was a welcome change from the whispering wood.
Morn an vennag.
I was awake, back on dry land, coughing and spluttering half the river from my lungs. I could barely keep my eyes open, the only face I could see was that of Kili. He was muttering something incomprehensible to me, lifting me into a sitting position.
Dimly, I recognised Bombur laid on is back behind Fili and Kili who were crowding me in my muddled confusion. I was sodden and cold, but poor Bombur looked even more so. He sprung to life, his great gut heaving as he forced himself to dredge the rivers water from within him.
Kili pushed back some of the hair that clung to my face in damp tendrils, to me each piece looked like twinned rope winding its way down. Distractedly, I mused that it would probably take an age to disentangle my locks in this state.
I made to say thank you, but three other words escaped my mouth, flowing from my tongue in tide of unstoppable phonemes that I had never heard myself utter before. Kili gave his brother a concerned glance, shifting his eyes back to me as though I had done something incredibly worrying. How could three tiny words have such a negative effect?
Morn an vennag.
Back in the forest, but there was something different; I was not alone. In the shadows there was movement, flecked with light; a shining light, unlike that of torch glare, unlike that of fire, this was something magical, dangerous. That is where the voices were coming from, I was sure of it. The trees were less dense there, there must be some sort of clearing. Something inside me screamed that I should go to them, to seek help for I understood that I was completely lost in this forest.
Another voice, somewhat calmer and more reasoned, advised against rushing to them. The voices whisper danger, the light cannot be natural, you must run from them, the cautious side of my mind urged. It seemed that my instincts were not to be entirely trusted. If I ran to these people – these creatures – they may not be as friendly as I. However, they may be the only beings I come across in this place. Perhaps, that way is best, the grown up side of me rationalised. I agreed, if I saw no one before getting out of this forest then at least I would not be attacked.
I turned from the lights a giggle following in my wake. The laughter filled the atmosphere around me, but I began to walk, swiftly making my way away from the lights and laughter that seemed to always be on my tail. I broke out into a run, the ground feeling oddly soft to my feet.
Kili shook me gently and I peeled back my eyelids.
"You're awake!" He exulted, he looked exhausted and it had not been that long since I last woke. Had it? His eyes were ringed red and shadows were beginning to bloom beneath them, but his smile was still as bright as ever, though he could not rid himself from the worried expression that lingered.
I nodded, not wanting my lips to spill those three words again, I could feel them bubbling up at the back of my throat and swallowed as though they were bile; they tasted just as sour.
"Are you well?" Fili pressed, beside his brother he seemed smaller somehow even though he was the elder of the two. He looked shrunken in a way I could not quite grasp, or perhaps it was purely due to my only wanting to focus on Kili, only able to pay attention to one thing at a time. My head pounded with the mere thought of contemplating two things at once.
Again, I bobbed my head in response to the fading blond brother. Though I tried to look at him properly, he blurred from my vision. My eyes were surely broken, whenever I tried to stare at something that was not Kili my vision crumbled until it found his face once more. The whole world appeared to be shuddering tremendously and yet no one was bothering to panic about it.
Kili shifted me as gently as a father would a sleeping child, lifting me partially so as to rest me sitting upright against a tree trunk.
"Vey?" My eyes were rolling, searching madly for him and only him. "You look pale." He told me bluntly. I shrugged. Well really, what could I possibly do to stop from being pale? "And you're shaking."
Now that I had not noticed, but now the reason my line of sight kept wobbling made some sense at least. I tried as hard as I could to halt the tremors, but they just could not leave my body. I was not cold, not really, and yet I was shaking like a leaf. I did not understand it. That did not matter for all that long in any case, slowly my eyes drifted shut again and I heard no more of Kili's concerned remarks.
Morn an vennag.
Back in the woods. I ran as though my life depended on it and something about the eerie singing and giggling that dogged my steps hinted that that might just be the case in this circumstance. I had no idea to where I was running or what I could be running from, but the further away from the lights I travelled the lighter my heart felt and the easier my breath came to me.
I thought there was the sound of birds close by, any noise was welcome in my mind – animals meant an escape from this sickened forest. There was something else too; a gentle, rolling ripple. Water. I hoped I was not coming back to the river, though if it were flowing as it sounded to be then maybe it would show me the way out of this horrible darkness.
Morn an vennag.
The woods all seemed the same from one tree to another and yet they all were different; each one seemed to have its own aura and as I went along, they grew brighter, less hateful. To my dismay I came at last to the very thing I had hoped not to; the river that had gotten me here in the first place.
The waters looked oily and full of hidden things hoping to drag one underneath the surface never to tread on land again. The laughter was faint now, but the very presence of it still unnerved me, I wanted to be rid of it as soon as possible; it made my skin crawl.
Morn an vennag.
I had to make a decision once again. Do I turn around and try a different way out or do I follow the river and see where it emerges no matter how far that might be? If I tried another direction I might find and exit sooner, but if I follow the river I am guaranteed a way out at some point, or so I hoped.
Morn an vennag.
The way of the river it is then, at least the bubbling of the stream would drown out some of the mirthless laughter following me.
Morn an vennag.
The whispers of the trees were louder as I marched along the river bank, too tired to keep running.
Morn an vennag.
I did not understand their words, they were unlike anything I knew and yet there was something of a familiar twang to their sound, perhaps something in the accent or the way each syllable fell into place with the next, which felt as though I should know their meaning, as though they were a part of who I was.
Morn an vennag.
I could hear Bombur's ramblings as my eyes opened.
".. and there was the most delicious ham you have ever tasted and the wine, the wine! It was exquisite! Better than any the Blue Mountains have seen..." He went on this way for some time, but I took no notice, instead I was drawn to the conversation nearest to me.
"You think she'll be alright?" The dark brother asked with his back to me.
The blond replied tiredly, as though he had said it a million times already. "Of course she will, Bombur's coming round more and she shall follow."
"I'm sick of his talk of food," Kili complained, "We are starving already!"
"I would rather Veyra talked of food, instead of…"
Talking? I have never talked in my sleep before, have I? I did not think so, but then again I would not know what happened when I slept.
Kili sighed, "As would I, my brother." His shoulders slumped. "I would rather she would speak of anything else. I cannot imagine why she mutters such darkness, that river was ill indeed to have poisoned her mind so."
"Things will be better when she wakes like Bombur." Fili promised. He did not seem altogether sure of that though, from the way heaved a dragging sigh at the end, I could tell that he was hoping as much as he was assuring.
"Fili, how does she even know those words?" Kili pleaded, desperation heavy in his tone.
Fili shrugged his sagging shoulders, "I know not how, I have never taught her such things."
"I don't like it. " Kili complained, "Bombur is fine now, why does she still sleep?" He sounded pained. I wished I could speak to him, explain that I am awake, that I am fine.
I would have, if I had not been dragged back into slumber.
The air was clearing, somehow if felt lighter, as though some of the stuffy closeness was dissipating. I felt I could actually breathe properly for the first time since I had entered Mirkwood. It did not taste as stale as it had done – in fact it tasted fresh and… green.
I even fantasised that I could hear a breeze, an actual breeze, unobstructed by trees or brush. A wind flowing over open air. Perhaps I was delirious; I had not eaten or drank anything in what felt like days.
Morn an vennag.
Following the river as it widened, everything grew brighter; there bloomed colour in places I had yet to have seen in this forest. The leaves were a burnt orange, the bushes lusciously green and bearing maroon and scarlet berries the size of my thumb nail.
And then I could hear it. The lapping of water over mud, soft and squelching. Liquid dragging itself over the soggy soils. This was no river roiling, this was a much larger body of water I could hear, one that rippled freely.
As fast as my body would permit, I raced toward the sound. Branches and twigs snarled and tore at my clothes and skin, scratching at my arms and face, but it did not matter; something deep inside me told me that I had to find the source of such a sound.
Morn an vennag.
There! I could see it! Through the final few trees. The mud addled bank of a lake. A ginormous lake, I could not even see the other bank. The blue-green waters were nothing like the dull hues of the woods, they were startlingly bright, almost too vivid for my eyes to adjust to after so long in shadow. The sun bore down powerfully, it pained me but I made myself look at it; into the azure sky and out into the distance.
There was only one thing between the lake and the sky; a mountain. It had to be the mountain, The Lonely Mountain. It was far beyond any scale I could have imagined and yet I felt it should not be so huge, not from this far away anyhow.
Morn an vennag.
The lake was not empty though. A shabby oaken vessel floated lazily against the shore.
Morn an vennag.
Its deck had been crammed with empty barrels and its sail hung limply from its mast.
Morn an vennag.
A shadow-laden figure of a sturdy gentleman held out a hand, reaching from the boats unadorned prow.
"Morn an vennag." Hummed a warning voice that I felt I should be familiar with, but I just could not place it.
"…You know we cannot keep carrying her like this." Came the gruff tones of none other than Thorin Oakenshield.
I noticed the slight rocking sensation and the feeling to being trapped – not in a bad way – by arms, clutching me so a sturdy chest. My clothes were dry now and I was actually warm, someone had probably given me a blanket, probably Kili. Come to think of it, that had to be who carried me, I doubt he would have tolerated anyone else doing so.
Sure enough, when a reply came, it was Kili who spoke up. "I am not leaving her behind with any of you. If you want to abandon her, then I stay too."
The leader sighed deeply, "We should never have brought her in the first place. She is a burden." He grumbled.
"She was no burden when she figured out the map, nor when she helped you lead." Kili argued.
But I am a burden now, I wanted to say. I tried to open my eyes or to move in some way, but I could not. All I was capable of is laying limply in Kili's hold whilst we travelled to wherever Thorin had decided.
Thorin grunted, "If you are so determined to waste your own energies then so be it."
"She's not gone yet, Uncle." The youngest Dwarf assured, somewhat less certainly than he may have liked to.
Is that what they thought? That I was going to die? Maybe they ae right. I could not speak, move nor see – I may as well have died for all the influence I had on the things going on around me.
I could hear the Elven singing again, although this time I was sure I was awake; everything felt heavy again – the true weight of reality.
"There it is!" Nori exclaimed delightedly. I could not imagine being delighted by such eerie noise, something about the soft, sinister song chilled my souls and tightened my stomach with tendrils of terror. The sound could only bode ill.
My eyes, still, would not grant me the benefit of opening and relieving me from the lonely blackness, although it did allow my other senses the leeway they needed; the way the air shifted against my skin, growing colder and heavier, told me that we must surely be going uphill and the heightening of the Elf-song made me sure that someone had decided to seek out the music.
"I wish I were back at that golden table!" Bombur complained childishly, apparently he was able to walk and talk, unlike myself. "I'm so hungry! Even if it was a dream, the food was sweet and plenty! We ought never to have left Beorn's house! He had food and we are starving! I wish-"
"Enough whining!"
All movement stopped and a startled gasp ran through the Company; Kili's arms were rigid beneath me.
"Vey?" He ventured gingerly.
"Kili," I responded, for it was I who had spoken – my silence finally at an end and I found at once that I was able also to peel back my eyelids and blink into the muted green glare. The dark brother's eyes were brimming with anxiety where as I was well-used to seeing joy.
Fili chuckled, "Well, it seems Bombur's whinging has the power to raise anyone!" He was trying to lighten his brother's spirits, that much was obvious, but alas it seemed not to work.
Kili's frown deepened with worry, it seemed as though my sudden wakefulness unsettled him more so than my slumber had done. Tiny creases dwelled at the corners of his eyes, surely I would have noticed them at some point – they were entirely new to me; as were the lines marring his forehead. I wondered if my… episode had affected his ageing, he appeared for the first time to be as old as the rest of the Company. This most certainly disconcerted me, I would give anything to have him smiling instead of staring at me like I had risen from the dead.
Thorin, however, was not in the least deterred. "We cannot waste time," He grunted, "We are still no closer to these creatures than we were this morning. We press on."
The Company did as told and I was set down to use my own legs, the youngest Dwarf persisting in his sidelong glances. The only person who seemed to be in the mood for conversation was Bilbo, whom he sidled up beside me as soon as we began to move.
"What exactly are we looking for?" I questioned, knowing I would not like the answer, but needing to hear it all the same.
"Elves." Bilbo replied solemnly. "They appear every now and then; all having feasts and singing, but their lights blow out whenever I get too close."
I blanched, "You get close?" I asked, I would not be fond of this answer either I imagined.
"Yes," Bilbo told me, without a comment on the suddenly livid expression I now donned, "Thorin thought it best that I should investigate, me being small and quiet."
I could not believe the nerve of the Dwarven-leader, especially after the Troll incident. Was it not evident that sending a Hobbit alone is not only reckless, but highly useless? My cousin had not the natural instincts and reflexes for such vigilante infiltration. Despite my anger the only words I let slip through gritted teeth were: "He should not have done that."
Bilbo sighed, "I worried you might say something of that thought, but do not fear – they saw me and left, that is all."
"Then perhaps we should leave them be." I suggested none too hopefully, I knew I could not change Thorin's mind once it had been set on a task. Even if I told him what I saw in my dreams it would only unnerve the men; nothing brought about trouble more than people who thought they could see into the future. Besides, if I were wrong I would look extremely foolish; however, if I were right, the Company would think me queer and dangerous at the very least.
Bilbo sensed my unease, "Ah, dear cousin! Do not fret! You shall be quite safe, after all Elves are gentle beings, remember Elrond?"
I nodded, my doubts not even slightly quelled, I feared they would well up inside me until I burst; but I refused to voice them.
We walked for so long following the Elven music that I could have easily believed we had passed into the Fourth Age, before the lights peeked into view. Small sparks, no bigger than a leaf, flickering into life and then disappearing, only to leap to a spot a few feet away. They were few at first, but the closer we came, the more there shone and the larger the clustered beams.
Thorin silently sent an order rippling through the Company with just a flick of his hand, if it were not for Kili halting me with a palm laid upon my shoulder I would have ploughed straight into the back of Nori whilst the rest of them froze at the command. The only noises about me were the Dwarven breathing I had come to know well and the heavenly voices that I hoped never to hear again.
The Dwarf-leader motioned for us to stay where we stood, gesturing with another hand signal that he was to go forth first; evidently he believed that the Elves would take to him, King Under the Mountain, than they did to a lowly Shireling. He did not voice it, but it was clear in his eyes that he thought Bilbo's low standing was the reason behind the Elves annoyance of their feasting being intruded upon, though I doubted that very much. These Elves did not appear to me to be at all alike to their kin in Rivendell and I had yet to meet them properly. Really, any beings that should choose to live in such a horrid place must be an equally horrible sort indeed; after all a habitat this unpleasant could only breed further nastiness.
Thorin sauntered almost excitedly toward the ever-shifting rays of golden light, his face cast with pits of black that fled from wherever the light touched his skin, a constant chase of brightness and blackness and none seemed to be triumphant. His back straightened, an unconscious decision to demonstrate power, as he braced himself for his descent into the blinding clearing.
Briefly I caught a glimpse of perhaps twenty Elves; all laughing gaily at some joke I should never know, eating their fill of a delightful spread and spilling far more mead than they drank as they danced under enchanted lanterns around a luxurious marble table. They were queer things; unlike the glorious fashions of Rivendell, all of these Elves wore leather armour of only shades of green and brown, most of them had their hair tied back from their faces in intricate braids paired with features too sharp to be considered beautiful and yet too striking to be considered anything else. They had an irrational and wild nature about them, I was in no doubt as to it being these creatures that brought the trees into such a foul demeanour.
The very moment Thorin stepped into the glow all heads swung toward him, their expressions ranging from shock and bewilderment, to anger, to pure hatred. Their singing finally ceased but they were definitely not inclined to listen to anything that Thorin could possibly have to say to them. He would certainly not be amused by that in any way.
All at once I both saw this and it vanished, the clearing plunged into black, all light extinguished to make it darker than it had been previous to the Elf-light. Their laughter hanging in the air like a scorn.
"Thorin?" Balin called, to no reply.
"Uncle?" Came Fili's uncertain inquiry.
"Oakenshield!" Dwalin cried, "You better not have deserted us!" He was only using false fury, but his voice creaked and cracked under the strain of anxiety.
Kili took my hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze, though I was not too sure whether he intended to comfort me and show that things were going to be fine or to reassure himself that I had not disappeared too.
It was only then that I truly realised how lost we would really be without our leader.
Light the Way - All Time Low