Disclaimer: J.R.R. Tolkien owns everything except for the characters not in his works.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE: Into Mirkwood
Mirkwood, for lack of a better term was a festering forest. It made everyone . . . behave strangely. For the first few days it was easy to ignore; the overbearing pressure of the trees and the darkness creeping in from all sides. Then dwarves began to fight with one another, bickering ceaselessly until someone snapped and fists were thrown. Already Kili was sporting a bruised jaw and Fili a split lip for trying to protect him.
By the eighth day they ran out of food.
Of course the company had their own personal stashes of their own, but those didn't last very long either. Starvation and the humid heat bearing down on them in the darkness made even the simplest of tasks, such as walking, nearly impossible.
It didn't help that Bombur had fallen into the river, and had to be carried for several days either. Bilbo and Nuil were the only ones spared that task. Nuil grew to hate Mirkwood even more, despising its very existence from the moment she opened her eyes to when she closed them to sleep. Her hatred made worse as she began dreaming about what could be hidden in the shadows under the trees.
"We stop here for the night," came Thorin's voice from ahead in the gloom. Nuil halted where she stood, reaching out to grasp Bilbo's shoulder and make him sit down. They slept where they stood, no fires, and only empty bellies to comfort them. Bilbo sank to the ground, laying on his back without much protest, dark bags under his eyes from exhaustion.
Nuil pitied him, knowing that a hobbit was never- would never- be accustomed to an empty stomach. Hobbits were not meant to know such hardships. Just the warmth and comfort of a good home and bountiful garden. Bilbo should not have to suffer like this. But there was nothing she could do to ease this situation.
Swaying slightly, Nuil lowered herself to the ground, sighing with relief that she did not have to move anymore. The hunger pangs had all but dulled to an empty hollow feeling. She licked her dry, cracked lips, wishing for water that they could not spare. Sweat beaded on her upper lip, the heat making her skin hot and sticky with sweat. There was no relief.
"Leave me be, Dori!" snapped Ori's voice from somewhere behind her. Her brows rose slightly, surprise filling her. Ori never verbally lashed out at his brothers. He swatted their hands away, or suffered their attention. They had to get out of the forest. They had to.
With that last thought she drifted to sleep.
Bombur woke the next day, wailing about food and a feast. His memory, it seemed, began with Bilbo's house in the Shire, and he had no recollection of the quest past that point.
"Why ever did I wake up?" he moaned once he found out that there was no food. "I was having such lovely dreams of a great feast!"
"If you cannot talk of something else, be silent!" Thorin said irritably. "We are quite annoyed with you as it is. If you hadn't woken up, we should have left you and your idiotic dream in this forest; you are no joke to carry."
Many grumbled in agreement, and Bombur pressed his lips together in a thin line looking miserable and despondent. Bofur gripped his shoulder comfortingly but said nothing. The continued on, haggard and walking even slower than before. It was not long before Bombur began to moan about food again.
"We are lost!" cried Dwalin impatiently several hours later, an arm pointing at the path ahead of them, blocked by several darkened twisted trees. "The path is gone!"
"Gone?! How can it be gone?!" Gloin huffed.
"We're lost!" Ori breathed.
Thorin shouldered his way towards the others, glaring at the trees as if he could command them to part and show him the path. "Well, search for it!"
They fanned out, never entering into the trees, out of fear of Gandalf's parting warning. Bilbo slowly approached a tree, gazing up it thoughtfully.
"What if I climb the tree and see where we are?" he asked out loud, not to anyone in particular. But Balin heard him, nodding his head with a creased brow.
"Aye, that might help, Bilbo my lad," he said.
As Bilbo reached for the first blackened branch Nuil reached out and brushed his shoulder. "Be careful Bilbo," she murmured tiredly. He nodded and pushed off the ground, quickly scaling the tree and disappearing up the branches. She waited at the base of the tree, tense, before looking at the others. Fili and Kili were sitting on the ground, slumped against a tree while Nori kicked at the dirt near them. Oin was peering into the gloom while Thorin paced like a caged animal beside him.
Exhaustion swept through her, making her eyes heavy and they drooped tiredly.
That's when she heard it.
" . . . mimel ze . . ."
She jerked, looking around wildly. It was a whisper, as though spoken right into her ear, yet she stood alone. Balin had wandered over to Dwalin.
" . . . I would have loved you like no other . . ."
This time she turned, her blood running cold. Those words were so familiar, and yet she could not place them. "Who's there?" she voiced timidly. The foliage to her right rustled.
" . . . Come back to me . . ."
She stumbled forward, wanting to draw close to that voice. She knew that voice, the name on the tip of her tongue, and the desire to see that person again gripped her like an iron fist. Throwing caution aside, she stepped into the trees and off the path.
Bilbo pulled himself up, higher and higher. The branches slowly becoming smaller and smaller. He could see the sky above him. Blue. The clearest blue he could remember. Blue like the pond near his home that he always fished in. The sight of the sky gave him a boost in energy. The heat bothered him less as the need to get to the top took over his thoughts.
He climbed with such surety that he gave no thought to slipping and falling to the ground below.
Bilbo broke to the surface, and wind- wind -hit his face like a welcomed friend. Fresh and cool. He had not felt so relieved, so fresh and clear headed since before they had entered Mirkwood. A forest that made his stomach churn. He could feel the sickness.
The leaves were red and gold, rustling in the wind, bathed in the golden light of the large rising sun. He could see a great expanse of water beyond the trees, so vast that he would have called it the sea where it not for the mountains beyond and the small cluster sitting on its surface.
Laketown.
He looked north and his breath was stolen.
Erebor. The Lonely Mountain. It rose proudly above him, its peak capped in brilliant white snow, kissing the clouds above it. A bright smile grew on his face. Surely his books could never capture this beauty, nor the stories that were told to him. No. The Lonely Mountain was a majesty all in its own.
And they were not far from the edge of the forest either. Hope soared through him. The wind rose up again and Bilbo basked in it, giving a gasp of delight when hundreds of royal blue winged butterflies took to the air. Fluttering around him peacefully. He could stay there forever, he knew, were it not for the others waiting down below.
As Bilbo turned to climb down a loud cracking sound filled the air and the tops of the trees in the distance swung back and forth wildly. He frowned, wondering what could do that before making his way down the branches quickly.
"It's so hot," moaned Ori, pulling at his scarf.
"Everyone's hot," mumbled Kili, not bothering to open his eyes as he spoke. He was more than a little annoyed with anyone who tried talking to him. Unbearably tired too.
"Is there no end to this accursed forest?!" growled Thorin storming past them. Fili heaved a sigh, wiping his sweat drenched face.
"By Mahal, if we don't get out of here soon, I'm going to start eating dirt," Kili groaned. A smirk pulled at Fili's lips.
"Is that a promise, nadadith?" Kili did not bother responding. They sat in miserable silence, listening to Bombur weep about their lack of food and Bofur trying to cheer him up, until a scream pierced the stillness. The company jerked to attention, looking towards the trees.
"What was that?" Nori asked alarmed. Dori stood at his side, staring into the trees.
"A creature, perhaps?" Gloin offered, Oin nodding in agreement beside Dwalin. Balin looked at each of them, counting each, knowing Bilbo was still in the tree.
"Where is the lass?" Balin asked, breaking the tense silence. Thorin stiffened, turning to look at Balin. For a moment his blue eyes looked fearful until his attention was drawn to the snapping of branches and the yell of Bilbo crashing down from the tree. Dwalin caught the hobbit as he fell from the last branch. Bilbo squirmed out of his arms, red in the face and point back the way he had come.
"Spiders!"
"What?!" Dori exclaimed.
"They're coming!" Bilbo said frantically, his hand going to the hilt of his sword.
"Don't be a fool, Bilbo," Fili said, "spiders are harmless-" he didn't finish as Bilbo was slammed into the ground by a great shape, the hobbits cry of alarm muffled by the dead leaves. They barely had any time to react as giant spiders descended upon them, pinning them to the ground and sinking their stingers into their skin.
Nuil followed the voice, stumbling over roots and fallen branches, deeper into the trees. Her hair clung to her face and neck, while her breathing had become increasingly erratic. She fell to her knees as her exhaustion came back with a vengeance.
"Where are you?"
". . . Nuil . . ."
She looked around her, wide eyed and searching as the trees seemed to grow closer and closer. The heat had become so oppressive that she was fighting to breathe. She knew that voice. She knew it.
" . . . Nuilweyil . . . look at me . . ."
Nuil looked up, tiredly tilting her head back until it rested on her shoulders. A silhouette met her eyes, dressed in leathers, armed with axes. His dark hair and bright eyes were so very familiar to her. But he was faded, somewhat.
"Frerin?"
He held out a hand to her, and she stared at it stupidly. Nuil wanted to take his hand, but her arms felt like they were weighed down with lead. She licked her cracked, dry lips.
" . . . mimel ze . . ." he crooned, " . . . you are weary . . . lay down . . . sleep . . ."
"I- I-" she shook her head, "I don't want to."
"Sleep . . . mimel ze . . . lay down your weary head . . ."
Nuil blinked up at him, fighting against tears as she fought to keep her eyes open. How could he be here? Standing before her, looking so alive?
"You died," she gasped out trembling. "You died in my arms."
". . . Hush . . ." he sighed, ". . . sleep . . ."
He could not be real. It could not be him. She shook her head stubbornly. This- this was the forest, playing tricks on her, making her see what wasn't really there. It was an illusion. Frerin wasn't standing before her.
"You're not real," she breathed staring up at him. He stared at her for a moment, a blank look in his eyes before opening his mouth. Instead of words, a clicking noise rose forth, followed by two massive pinchers. Nuil cried out in alarm as Frerin faded and in his place stood a giant spider, advancing menacingly towards her.
Nuil scrambled backwards, a scream passing her lips as even more descended from the trees. Oh Mahal, what had she done!? She left the path, left the company, and was now alone. Her arms weren't working, and as the first spider stood over her she screamed again as it stabbed her in her stomach with its stinger. Blinding pain filled her and she could feel her muscles seize up, paralyzing her as it chattered away happily. Its companions continued through the trees and it wasn't long before the cries of the dwarves met her ears.
The spider began to weave its white silk around her, and she was powerless to stop it. The poison reached her head, dulling her sight and making the world fade into nothingness.
I tried to capture the craziness/hallucinogenic-ness of Mirkwood. Which is hard.
I know it's summer. I should have all the time in the world to write . . . but that didn't happen. Obviously. So now I'm posting a week before classes start. I got distracted by other fanfics and marathoning seasons 1-8 of Supernatural on Netflix in a month. Things I vowed to not let myself do. I have a guilty pleasure for Fili fanfics too, so that may have not helped, and I may have started several drafts for other fanfics. This story is long, and I'm still on the fence about the whole Tauriel/Kili thing. I mean, I enjoyed it, but I'm not sure if I should put it into the story as well. I'll just let my fingers type and see where that takes me.
Thank you to all my VERY PATIENT readers and reviewers. I know I'm like the BBC of Sherlock producers. And I'm terribly sorry.
I moved, and will be attending college classes soon. Really nervous. Everything is kind of new here so I hope I can continue writing. Plus I'm trying to get a job, which is harder than I thought it would be. I feel like Bilbo, leaving the Shire.
Much love.
~filimeala