Sorry it took a few days to get another chapter in! I hope you are not getting to bored! Keep faith, everyone! Something crazy happens here!
The three friends arrived at the Halls of the Woodland Realm as the sun was fastly fading. Night fell upon the earth early in the winter months, and already, darkness reached out to ensnare the daylight until tomorrow morn. The sun retreated to its place of rest across the sky and its slow decent fought the darkness in a silent battle of golds and deep purples as an early twilight took hold.
A foursome of guards in fine elven armor, armed with both bow and blade, stood posted at the entrance. The massive, beautifully crafted doors, deceptively delicate, but incredibly durable, were shut tight, apparently closed until the sun once again graced the horizon.
As Fili, Kili, and Bilbo arrived at the gate, two of the four guards approached them, barring their way. The taller of the two, an elf of brown hair which was woven expertly in beautifully intricate braids, was the first to speak. His silver armor shone brilliantly in the last fading tendrils of sunlight, "You are nearing the kingdom of King Thranduil of the Mirkwood. Name yourselves and reveal your purpose here."
At least he was kind enough to speak Westron, Fili thought to himself.
The lion-haired dwarf looked to his little brother expectantly. Fili knew Kili was by far more sociable than he when it came to elves and he trusted Kili to handle the exchange well enough. Besides – this had been Kili's idea in the first place. Kili nodded, fully understanding what his brother's look had implied.
The youngest Durin cleared his throat as his little pony shifted its weight. He sat up a little straighter in his saddle and puffed out his chest ever-so-slightly, for he was very thin for a dwarf, after all. "We are Fili and Kili, sons of Dis, heirs to the Throne of Erebor." Kili stated his title as if he were reciting a litany, and indeed, he was accustomed to naming himself as such many times during his young life.
He then gestured to his hobbit friend astride his bay pony. "And this is Master Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, good ally and friend to us." Kili was careful not to use Bilbo's alternate moniker, 'Boggins,' that Kili had jokingly kept for the hobbit after he had accidently butchered his name during their initial introductions back at Bag End.
The Elf only stared at the young prince, and with a start, Kili then realized he had only answered half the question. "Oh! Yes, well," He coughed uncomfortably.
Fili mentally face-palmed and Bilbo's ears turned red.
"You see, we cannot get back to the Mountain. The ferry is damaged and can bring no soul across the lake. We were hoping, if you wouldn't mind, that is, if-"
"You said you were the heirs to the throne of Erebor?"
Kili paused for a moment, caught off guard by the interruption. "Yes, I did, but I hardly see how that's relevant."
"It is entirely relevant!" The elf cried in an angry outburst. "I know your line! You are the nephews of Thorin Oakenshield, yes? How dare you ask us favors when it was for you and that accursed mountain that we elves shed our blood! Elves shed, and wasted blood for that mountain of death. Elves! We who were meant to live generations past you, your sons, and your great grandson's sons thereafter!" The guard's voice turned dark and dangerous. His words were soft, but clear, "What say you of that? What say you of our sacrificed kin for the sake of your own gain?"
"Sîdh, Mikelverial! Sîdh!" A guard from the gate rushed up and placed a calming hand on his fellow guardsman's plated shoulder. The other unnamed elves did not speak, but led Mikelverial back towards the gates.
"I am sorry," he spoke. His voice was gentle, like leaves being tickled by a soft breeze, and his face was soft and bright. Blue eyes penetrated his light helm and near-white hair flowed from the metal rim. "You must forgive him. Mikelverial lost his twin brother, Miaderian in that conflict. Five years is not long in the eyes of our kin and the wound is still fresh. Where your kin, as we speak see celebration, we are reminded of our loss."
Kili said nothing. In fact, faced with Mikelverial's accusations, the archer had been greatly wounded. The elf spoke as if the dwarves did not care about what had happened that day, what the immortal elves had sacrificed on that bloody battlefield. He could not have been more wrong. The selflessness of the great immortal elves was not lost on him. How could it have been? Tauriel had died as well. The elves were not the only ones to have experienced great loss.
Fili immediately noted the change of demeanor in his brother's posture. He knew Kili's thoughts had returned to that elven lass, Tauriel and a bought of anger nearly took him in defense of his brother, but he stayed his tongue, as he knew not what to say at that moment. Bilbo to, said nothing.
The fair-haired elf waited a moment, gauging each of the visitors, and he continued with an apologetic air, "You must understand, my lords. There are warring views within this kingdom. Some of us believe the price for peace was a necessary one, but some… resent the King's decision."
Fili nodded and the elf went on. "I know you came here for aid, and I am deeply sorry, but for reasons such as what you have just seen, I think it unwise to allow any dwarf, regardless of stature, to enter here." Fili looked to Kili, but Kili's head was still hung heavily in deep thoughts, and he did not respond to his brother's gaze.
So Fili turned back to the armored elf before him and was surprised to find that he actually saw a great deal of sincerity in his blue orbs, as if he were really, truly sorry for their misfortune. "You may camp alongside the path anywhere you please. I will have blankets and stakes brought out so you may sleep comfortably. If you need anything, ask for me. I am Fallendriel."
Fili thanked him and the two clasped wrists. It was an odd thing for the heir of Durin. Until that moment, he had never shared such a peaceful gesture with the fey folk. It truly did make him stop and think about things.
He was reminded of when he was forced to choose between Thorin and his own brother at Laketown and how he had chosen Kili in an instant. He had to wonder, would he have to do the same regarding Thorin and his hatred for elves? Was his Uncle wrong, or was Kili's influence convincing him otherwise?
"Oh, Master Dwarf?" Fallendriel called as the three started to turn around, "I advise you to stay close to the path and do not stray too far into the forest. There has been rumor of something lurking within the shadows of late and I do not trust this wood as I once did. Sleep with a fire lit."
Bilbo shared a concerned look with Fili at his ominous words, but Kili did not acknowledge the warning at all. Anger festered within the archer. Fili could see it in his dark, brown eyes. He just needed some time to think for a bit.
Their beasts' hooves touched down upon the carved stone bridge that led back to the path. It was the very bride they were corralled down during their first visit as prisoners. Dead leaves swirled about them as a chilled breeze blew past them and the weather immediately grew chillier.
Kili's head shot up and he peered carefully into the darkness of the road beyond the bridge. He stopped Clip dead in his tracks.
Kili's quick actions garnered an alarmed response from his brother, and even Bilbo was inclined to draw Sting. It was not glowing.
"Did you hear that?" the archer asked in a whisper.
Fili's eyes darted between the empty road to his brother's unwavering gaze, "Kili, what is it? I hear nothing."
Kili did not bother to reply, but Fili did not have to wait long for an answer. From the shadows of the road, he too heard it: the fainted sound of hooves striking the cobbled path, galloping towards them at an alarming rate growing all the louder as the riders drew nigh. His initial reaction was to tense and prepare to defend himself, but he did not.
Appearing as wraiths in the darkness of night, three pale horses emerged from the depths of the woods and into the firelight of the gateway. One was riderless, its golden bridle hung loose and the sculpted saddle bore no one.
Fili heard Kili gasp in recognition and then again in worry and fear. The elves at the gate were thrown into a panic. A pair of them rushed to get the gates open and the others went to the three horses. For the other two horses bore two familiar elves and the third rider.
Havonin and Peranior were upon separate shining steeds, but Havonin, the elder brother, shared his saddle. There in front of him, cradled safely between Havonin's arms and the horse's neck, sat Rodinfell, limp and pale. His green and gold tunic was torn and bloodied and his head lolled as Havonin rode. His red hair grimly complemented the blood that traced his skin.
"Gurth! Gurth!" Peranior cried, "Death stalks those woods!"
"Oh, Mellon," Havonin pleaded quietly into Rodinfell's torn ear, "Please, do not fade. Do not fade away from us." He put his finger up to Rodinfell's lips and was heartened to feel that he still drew breath, if only barely.
Quickly, in all the chaos of that panicked moment, the elves escorted the three hunters into the Halls of the Woodland Realm, and Fallendriel was sure to slip Fili, Kili, and Bilbo inside as well, so they too would not fall victim to the beast that stalked the Mirkwood.
Some Notes: Westron is the common tongue in Middle Earth. / Gurth: Death / Sîdh: Peace :) (If I'm wrong, let me know :)) Please keep those reviews coming! Tell me anything, Praises, critiques, suggestions! Thanks!