Trees. It always fucking trees. If there's a theme here then I am definitely seeing it. Dwarves and forests don't mix. I wonder if that's what Tolkein was trying to point out. Dwarves+underground=good. Dwarves+above ground=adventure.

I didn't really know. Or want to know standing next to a forest that's been festering in evil for years. Mirkwood was an apt name for the place.

"Ádh mór linn go léir."

"What was that?" Bilbo appeared beside me.

"Wishing us luck for the road to come."

"You think we need it?" I gazed into the hidden leafy depths.

"In that evil place? A watchful eye would be useful as well my friend." I laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "No need to worry. I'll watch your back, my friend."

As detached as I was from the whole situation since my arrival, the little hobbit had been a constant throughout the majority of it. The last few days for example. Everything after the encounter with Azog had been a hazy hallucination at best. But I remembered talking to Bilbo on a few occasions and actually noticing the world around me for the first time before sinking back down.

Popping out of it only this morning and realizing where we were didn't help my mood. This was just a shitty place to be altogether. Now I don't mind spiders. As far as I'm concerned spiders can live in my house rent free as long as they handle all the other insects. What I do not appreciate is giant spiders that want me pan fried like a steak.

Same thing with snakes. If they mind their business, I'll mind mine. But if I see a giant snake in the area, I have packed my shit and left the country before it can blink. I wanted to do the same thing here but wasn't really given a choice.

I could always split out and go around but that would help no one. Through the dark forest of murder spiders and cutthroat elves it was.

By the looks of things, I wasn't the only one anxious about the whole thing either. The dwarves eyed the dark trees warily. Gandalf had wandered in slowly, muttering to himself quietly. Even our elven companion was fidgety and looked ill at ease.

Remembering correctly, insomnia, creepiness, big ass spiders, Thranduil being a right prick, and escape by barrel. Like all things so far, we'll just have to see how this goes.

Being thrown in jail. . . not as much fun as everyone in high school thinks it is. Hell, fifty percent of the junior class drank more than a fish in water. And most of them joked about it the next day while they were in the county jail. That was a drunk cell in a small town. This was just a carved stone closet with bars for a door. Not much of a difference really.

Following the dwarves' lead on this entire deal was just not working out for me. First I scrape up my hands in the goblin tunnels, they still hadn't recovered, get trapped on the edge of a cliff, encounter creepy crawlies no man should ever have to, and get my face broken.

Gandalf had bailed to go do his own things. I couldn't blame him. Smaug was a pissant compared to Sauron rising again. Raineth had lurked at the back of the group, muttering to herself darkly. No clear direction in sight, the dwarves had gotten themselves captured. Bilbo was off doing Bilbo things, so three of us had pretty much avoided the webs. Guess which three.

Long story short, we broke out the dwarves and encountered the elves of Mirkwood. Raineth straight up bounced, while I got mouthy with them and Legolas punched me in recompense. So yeah, just fucking dandy. Sneaky bastards had taken the knives and lockpicks in my boots.

So I was basically waiting on Blibo. . . ooor the guard that had just opened my door.

"Get up. The king demands your presence."

"Demanding is it? And where does the self-righteous prick. . ." That earned me a fist in the gut as two of the guards dragged me along.

Dumped on my knees before a carven throne. Was it wood or stone? It's kinda confusing to look at. As was the guy sitting on it. Long blond hair, the weird little crown. That was without the whole missing half his face thing.

"You are a strange one." He motioned his guards away and did his gaudy walk down the steps. "What are you?"

"Myself." The smile on his face was somewhere between amusement and deep annoyance.

"You are not native to these lands."

"Who is to say whether this one is, or is not from these shores?"

"I have walked these woods for centuries beyond count. I have seen evil and light clash. The foul creatures the enemy is known to make were twisted and cruel. The beings of the song shine with no taint of the dark one's touch." Prance wasn't the right word to describe his circular pacing.

"You have neither light nor darkness. What are you?"

"Is mise an rud a chuireann mo scéal orm." Thranduil stopped and raised an eyebrow.

"You speak a strange tongue as well. Perhaps I should take yours." With Elvish speed his sword snapped out and hovered under my chin. I remained stoic and silent as the blade dug into the flesh of my neck enough to draw blood.

"That would yield me no answers. Perhaps I shall let you rot in my dungeon until you are more cooperative." He sheathed the sword and ordered his guards to drag me away.

"May your blade dull and wit fail you, oh Elven king. It does you no good for the time of battle is coming. Mountains will shake and rivers run red with blood when an uncrowned king cries his death." It was gratifying to see such a smug bastard thrown off his game.

Whisper shouts from the Dwarves weren't very quiet. Square toed boots scuffing on stone didn't help. The quietest thing in all the racket outside was Bilbo trying to find the right key for my door.

"C'mon, we need to leave!" Thorin called while Balin arranged the other eleven Dwarves. The constant nagging of the company was making Blibo jumpy and nervous.

The jingling of keys, and stamping of impatient boots only got louder the more time dragged on. I caught the keys before they could hit the floor for a second time.

"Go. Lead the others out. This one will manage." I gave Bilbo's hand a reassuring squeeze.

If you've ever seen one of those ridiculous key rings that has to damn many. It's like, how the hell do you fit so many keys onto one ring for no reason other than to look important. Does that one go to a P.O. box? Wait, they don't have those here. Try after try, none of the keys fit. Pigeon holes count as the medieval equivalent?

Heavy armored boots came pounding in. Two guards looked in each and every cell, shouting angrily at each other. My attempt to hide the keys wasn't fast enough and they were snatched out from under me. I'm sure the guard was squinting at me from under. . .

Was it more of a helmet or some strange sort of chain link veil?

Flashing my teeth in an approximation of a smile, I gave a friendly wave. "Hi."

Having more 'important' things to do, they jogged off to get their boss. About five minutes later I could hear a distant horn call echoing through the carven halls. People were running around in armor and soft boots judging by the sounds.

No keys, no lockpick. Let's see what door number three's got.

A deep breath in through the nose. . .

A deep breath out through the mouth. . .

A deep breath in. . .

A deep breath out. . .

In. . .

Out. . .

In. . .

"Fus Ro Dah!" I don't know whether I was coughing up a lung because of the dust or using a shout.

Results were the same either way. The door wasn't against the opposite wall, it was fucking buried. Any poor bastard that was standing nearby was thrown off the side or knocked out. Distraction and escape complete, it was a total bitch to get out.

You'd think a small army of orcs crossing their land and murdering their people would take priority. But no, let's all get the guy with fur coming out his ears. Skilled as they may be, their love of thin bridges was a deciding factor. In my favor.

Fresh air, light, didn't matter. All I saw were green fucksticks absolutely crushing (literally) any and all knife ears. I looked at the last sap lover that had tried to stop me getting out the door. His spear was broken, but the shield was still strapped to his arm.

Bilbo's panic had been stamped out when Fin had left the dwarves in his care. His own personal sense of honor, that had been acting up all along this trip, had kept him going into the basement and down the watery tunnel. However, any confidence had vanished when the gate to the river slammed shut, leaving them between the river guard and reinforcements summoned by a horn.

A rock and a hard place indeed. The chaos as orcs arrived to slaughter the already outnumbered elves made it hard to hope for survival.

On the stone bridge above a sudden whistling stopped with a pained grunt.

"Kili!" The older brother cried out as his younger sibling fell to the ground.

An orc rushed down the stairs toward the fallen dwarf, cleaver in hand and ugly snarl on its malformed lips. The orc mirrored its enemy and fell with an arrow firmly planted in its chest. The red-haired captain of the guard that had taken them in was jogging down the path towards the concentration of dead or dying elves with a silent fire in her step.

Orcs broke off from their assault on the dwarves and went to challenge the new foe. Only to fall to more arrows as rangers materialized from the woods. At their head was the blonde commander that had captured them.

No longer surprised and bolstered by the garrison, the elves were making headway towards the bridge. Something that was starting to get on everyone's nerves until the gate suddenly opened. Barrels were ferried away into the rapids and bounced around in the white water.

Orcs cried from further down the river in excitement of the expected slaughter. The small hobbit did get a moment's comfort as a familiar voice joined the noisy fray about them.

"Glan an bealach!" Biblo just managed to glance back and see his furry friend charging towards the orcs with nothing by a shield. Then he was swept over the falls and into the rush.

I've read enough fantasy books and seen How To Train Your Dragon enough times to know, you always go for the shield. I started to understand why after I'd bashed a few heads with it. The weird curve at the top helped pin heads to the ground while someone else cut it off. The elves were definitely surprised by my arrival, but weren't in a place to complain after the beating they took.

It's a lot funner when two people who hate each other team up against someone they both hate even more than each other. Especially when you're not on the receiving end. The combined strength of arrows and swords in professional hands was making itself clear in the glade. A few elves were even starting to check on their initial defenders.

So I followed my quickly fading friends as they rounded a bend in the river. I honestly can't remember that whizz of action and noise as the river roared in my ears. Not that I blacked out, but it was happening fast enough I couldn't keep track.

Raineth joined us at some point. Taking down orcs and looking like a badass the entire time. Thorin saved Legolas, and Tauriel did it again a few seconds later. Weirdly enough, I stood on the would-be assassin's arms and held down his head with my new shield. It was well made and pretty handy overall.

Back to the orc. Sticking around would have meant going back to jail so I booked it out of there as soon as Miss captain of the guard took charge of the situation. I was behind the party and the orcs. Double timing it around the Long Lake might just get me there in time for the party to sail to the mountain.

This is definitely not my greatest bit of writing, but it's what I got the energy for. Hopefully to counteract this chapter shitiness, I'm graduating! Fuck you American education system! So yeah, that's a thing now. It's only a matter of time before my dumbass is released upon the wider world. Odin only knows how that'll go.