Chapter fifteen

Beorn had been disappointed that I had turned down his proposition, but he remained wholly civil.

"Maybe when I return," I told him.

"Maybe," he nodded.

The ponies for the dwarves and the horses for Gandalf and I were soon assembled in the courtyard. Carefully watching us handle them, Beorn gave us advice for the journey into the Mirkwood.

"Water you will find easily before you reach the forest, but after you enter, both food and water will be very difficult to find. The season for nuts is not yet upon the forest, though it maybe come and gone by the time you reach the other side, and they are nearly the only things that are safe to be eaten. In the dark, all things grow queer and savage. I have given you skins for water and there are also some bows and arrows, though I doubt you will find much water, nor anything wholesome to shoot at. There is one stream I know there and it is deep, strong, and black. You should neither drink nor bathe in it, for I have heard that it carries enchantment of deep sleep and forgetfulness. Even if you see something worth shooting at off the path, do not follow. That is one thing you must not do. Straying from the path means almost a certain death. This is all I have to tell you. I cannot help you anymore once you enter the forest. I send good wishes and food, but I ask you to send my ponies and horses back at the border of the forest. I wish you all speed and my house is open to you, if ever you come back this way."

We bid him farewell, with the dwarves bowing. Bilbo, Gandalf, Thorin and I shook Beorn's hand in turn and thanked him warmly before mounting our steeds and filling out the tall hedges. Bilbo tried not to look at the orc and warg heads as we left Beorn's home. I glanced back a little wistfully. Perhaps I would be able to return one day and work alongside him with his animals and learn their ways. I spurred my horse forward.

We headed north. If we had made it through the mountain pass originally, we would have ended up much further south where a mountain stream met the great river Anduin. There was an old ford there that led to the old forest road. But Beorn had told us that that road was now used regularly by orcs and the eastern side was overgrown and led to impassable marshes. Besides, we would have gone out on the other side with a long and dangerous northward trek before reaching Erebor. The northern route was a little known pathway that lead nearly straight across to the Lonely Mountain. We were travelling closer towards the strongholds of the goblins, but they would not be expecting us and our side of the Anduin was under the protection of Beorn and goblins knew better than to stray into the paths of angry bears. However, Beorn still bade us to ride swiftly lest the goblins caught up with us.

We galloped along where it was flat with the mountains and river on our left and the ominous shadow of the trees on our right. It was hard not to feel better spirited despite the thought of wargs tracking us and the forest ahead. We had food and ponies and no one was dead or hurt. Night soon fell and the uneasiness settled over us as we dreamed of howling wargs and screaming goblins.

The next day was fair and shining again –hopefully the good weather would be with us for a long while still. It was high summer. Fili, Kili, Bilbo and Ori wandered over to me, cajoling stories out of me with their silly antics and jokes. They were all handsome young devils –I would be sad to see them go after the quest. The dwarvish and hobbit women had much to look forward to after they returned.

"Let's see your daggers," Fili leaned over from his pony and reached up and tried slipping a hand into my boot unsuccessfully.

I smacked his hand away and drew the knife from where it fit snuggly in its sheath that was strapped to my calf. I flipped it down to him and he caught it deftly.

"You made this?" he looked at it approvingly.

"My brigandine shirt too," I added.

Kili pulled up his pony on my other side. "You learned everything from Thorin?"

I nodded. "It took me ages to learn though –everything had come so easily to me before: weaving, healing, fighting, riding, blacksmithing, and hunting. But forging weapons of grace and fatality eluded me for quite some time. I ended up completing quite a few leather and scale shirts and other small parts of armour before I could even begin on the swords. I made a few daggers first. Most swords back where I am from are made piece by piece by ironmaster, bladesmith, hiltsmith, and the jeweler and engraver and put together. Thorin wanted me to be able to master whole process from the making of the steel to the setting of the jewels."

"Why don't you have the swords?" Bilbo suddenly asked.

I grunted, annoyed. "I left them behind in Ered Luin,"

"Why?"

Luckily Fili told him to shush.

I continued. "I couldn't get the folding and welding of the blade. Sometimes it would fall apart when I went to hammer at it again after a welding. Thorin made cut the metal to check the welds –they were usually pretty horrid. A few times it got to the point of having a hilt, but a blow against Thorin's swords would reduce it to shards. Nearly two years passed before I made any progress. He was a strict teacher, but in the end I began to get to the point where my swords would be strong enough to stay intact after a clash with another sword, but would still chip easily. Finally, I made this sword that was the strongest yet and I finished the elaborate engraving and setting jewels. It was beautiful, well, I thought so then. Thorin and I went outside to try it. Blades flashing, we went on for a while. I felt elated, free. Then Thorin caught me in a lock and tried flipping the sword from my grip. I hung on and his blade hit a weak spot on my sword and it shattered. I was pretty dejected."

Ori piped up. "I saw you –that was the first time I saw you so drunk you couldn't stand!"

I frowned at him.

"Did you try again?" Bilbo asked.

"I woke up with a hangover horrible enough to fell a troll, but I was angry and, well, really angry, so I set to making another one. This time, the sword was simple. No designs, a simple hilt and not one jewel. I pursued its creation with a singular concentration I had never experienced before. I engraved on word on the blade in the language of my people: wander. I still remember when I finished and plunged it steaming into the barrel of water. It stood the test this time."

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I had pulled the blade from the water, the droplets raining down on my sweaty, sooty arms. I touched the blade tentatively and ran a finger down the word wander. Planting my feet firmly, I swung it through the air and spun to slash downwards. The blade had cut through the air.

Clang.

A sword had stopped mine. It was Thorin. He gave me a nod of approval, but he swung his blade around mine and I leapt back, barely keeping my grip on the sword. I lunged forward and our blades crossed and slashed apart. My blade held. Giving Thorin a grin, I circled towards his left side and took a half step and a turn towards him and sliced. He parried it away and responded with hammering blows that rained down on my blade. It held. I rolled under his slash and came up to stab at him, but at the last moment, he knocked my sword away. A growl rumbled at the back of my throat as we met again in a flurry of movement. Barely thinking, I relied on my instincts to duck and slash and roll. I leapt over the workbench a few times and nearly ripped my skirt and had to steer clear of the still roaring forge and the anvil. I nearly backed him against the barrel, but he slid around it in time. For a moment, he left his right side open as he spun to towards me. I took my change and dived forward. Twisting around, he managed to divert the tip of my sword past his body. I had to roll as I hit the ground. As I came up, his sword flashed towards mine and we both slid our swords alongside the other and with a twist and a jerk and both of our swords went flying. Our eyes were locked. We panted.

Our lips melded. It wasn't a tender kiss. It felt like kissing a forge. My knees nearly buckled as his mouth opened. I had never felt so hollow for someone. I had never felt such need before. He tasted of metal and salt and intention. Thorin's hands slid down to my lower back and lower still, pulling me tight against him as I knotted my hands in his hair and ravaged his devouring mouth. He pushed at me, backing me up until I suddenly felt the low table dig into the back of my thighs. Soreness throbbed between my legs as he buried his face in my neck, his beard scratching against my skin while his hands tore at my dress ties at my bodice. My hands found the hem of his shirt and I tugged upwards as he flung it off. The bodice of my dress was open and the dress had slipped off my shoulders. I gasped and suddenly arched my back as his mouth trailed hungrily down to my chest. He looked up at me, an uncharacteristic smirk on his face. His mouth reclaimed mine. Squirming under him as I sat up onto the table, I fumbled at the laces of his trousers. He groaned into my lips.

"Stop," he gasped.

"No," I slid myself down his front. I ached for him.

"No," He pulled away.

"No?"

"No," He snatched his shirt off the floor and fled.

I had sat there shaking. I let go of a frustrated yell and slammed my fists into table. Angrily, I wrenched my dress back onto my shoulders yanked the dress ties close and got up and kicked the water barrel. It shook, but didn't fall over. I flopped down next to it, barely able to breathe with my dress ties digging into my chest. Calming down slowly, a sudden heartbreaking realization came to me. I had to leave.

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On the fourth day, the land began to slope up and up and the deer and rabbits that had frequented the land we had passed through had all but disappeared. Birds chirped only occasionally in the silence, their calls echoing eerily. By afternoon, we had reached the eaves of Mirkwood and we decided to take a rest under the shade of some of the trees that grew at its edge. The trunks were gnarled and massive and their branches were twisted and tangled with long, dark leaves. Swaths of ivy and vines trailed off of their trunks and branches and onto the ground. Peering off into the gloom, I could not make out more than a few meters of more trees before everything vanished in a mess of undergrowth and darkness. Nothing stirred in there. It felt disconcerting to sit at the edge of such shadow and silence. I hated to turn my back on it when we ate. It felt like the forest would reach out and swallow me up if I didn't keep watching it.

"Well, here is Mirkwood!" Gandalf exclaimed. "The greatest of the Northern forests. I hope you like the look of it since it is time for you to send all the excellent ponies and horse you have borrowed."

We all grumbled.

"Can't we keep riding them?" Gloin grunted.

"You're all fools," Gandalf muttered. "Beorn is not as far off as you think and you better keep your promises anyway. Mr. Bilbo's sharp eyes have spied a great bear watching over our camp every night –not only to guard us, but also to look out for his ponies. He loves his animals as his children and if they were to step a hoof into Mirkwood, you would have made a new and rather horrible enemy."

Thorin crossed his arms. "What about your horse, then? You don't mention sending that back,"

"I don't because I am not sending it."

"What about your promise then?"

"I will deal with that. I am not sending the horse back because I am riding it!"

Gandalf was leaving. Nothing we said would change his mind.

"Now, now," he wagged his head at us when the dwarves started offering gold again. "We have all gone through this before at the Carrock. I've got business in the south and I am already late because of you all. We may meet again before this is all over and I am sending Mr. Baggins with you! There is more to him than you know! Don't look so glum! Cheer up!"

We didn't.

Gandalf mounted his horse again.

"Wait," Thorin called. He hesitated. "Fili, Kili," He turned to the brothers. "You both are going with Gandalf."

"What?" Kili and Fili both looked rather confused, as did everyone else.

"What are we going with Gandalf for?" Fili asked.

"We don't have business in the south," Kili added.

"It's too dangerous from here on. You both need to make your way back to Ered Luin."

They both looked thunderstruck.

"We can't go home!" Kili wailed. "We're part of the Company!"

"You need us!" Fili cried.

"You are the last of the line of Durin. We cannot risk your lives!"

"We've done a fair bit of risking already!" Kili snapped back.

"The dangers ahead will surpass everything you've ever been through," Thorin looked very stony then, but I could see pain in his eyes as his nephews protested. "I need you to leave."

"We won't," Fili crossed his arms.

"You can't make us," Kili snarled.

"As you King," Thorin said very, very calmly, "I command you both to leave."

"No."

"Please,"

"Then stay. We will not move until you two leave. They we will never reach Erebor in time for Durin's Day and we shall never reclaim our home,"

The brothers were stricken. There was nothing they could do. No one else spoke a word as the brothers mounted their ponies angrily and galloped off, not turning back. Thorin sighed in relief and a little regret, it seemed. But I supposed they were safer not coming with us into Mirkwood. It did not make me feel any safer or happier that they were gone. I would miss their jokes and antics and their bravery. I would miss telling them stories. In the darkness ahead, I would miss them a lot.

Gandalf looked at Thorin, an odd look on his face. I could not decipher it. Before he turned to leave, he gave us some last advice.

"Straight through the forest is your path now. Do not stray off the path or you will certainly never find your way out. Then neither I, nor anyone else will see any of you again."

What a ray of sunshine. I shuddered at the thought of wandering aimlessly in a dark forest forever.

"With a tremendous slice of luck, you may see the other side and hopefully old Smaug will not be expecting you. Good bye!" He galloped off.

In the distance he turned once more and waved again and shouted a, "Don't leave the path!" before disappearing over a ridge.

Everyone was very quiet as we distributed the supplies as equally as we could and filled our water skins in a nearby stream. Bilbo nearly fell over when he shouldered his pack.

Thorin walked by and saw him struggling. "Don't worry," He said, "It will get lighter all too soon. Before long I expect we will be wishing all our packs were heavier."

We said goodbye to the ponies sadly and they all trotted off gaily off into the fields.

And with that, we turned towards the gaping entrance of the path and plunged into the forest.

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*Don't worry Fili and Kili aren't out of the story!