AN: This took forever to update… But yeah, it's going to pick up I swear! Please let me know what you think so far! Any predictions?

Chapter III

The Dwarf in Dol Guldur

Okay. I may have passed out…

It seems that I had the right answer by calling it— Him? Oh, whatever— the Necromancer. I remember immediately after, the hidden Ring Wraiths (now, I'm sure it was them) let out another round of ungodly wailing. I really hate to admit what happened next, seeing as it showcases my idiocy but I suppose I should say…

I started screaming.

Yeah, it was stupid and lame but it seemed damn well necessary at the time. I mean, if you had been face to face (No, I didn't actually see him) with the Dark Lord Sauron and surrounded by his evil-ass minions in a creepy as hell forest, you'd have freaked out too!

But that's as far back as my memory goes... thus is why I assumed I had passed out. Or maybe I was knocked out. That would make me seem like less of a sissy scaredy-cat, huh? I also would like to assume that I was magically teleported to wherever I was now because, honestly, the thought of the Necromancer or one of his wraiths carrying me is just too weird. I refuse to think about for more than a moment or so.

When I woke up, I realized I was in someplace, not just in the middle of the forest. Cool stone rested under my cheek, chilling through to my teeth. In fact, I was cold all over despite my winter attire. I must have been laying there awhile for the chill of the room to drain me of body heat.

My bones audibly creaked when I moved and I bit back a groan. I pushed myself up into a sitting position and looked around. It was very dark. I was in a smallish room, all stone from what I could tell. And old. There was a moderate-sized crack between the stones in the ceiling, allowing the tiniest amount of starlight to filter in. It illuminated a sliver of the room, streaking across from where I sat to a far off corner.

For awhile, I just sat there in a stupor fueled by fear and confusion. More than once, I thought of the hunter and if he may be involved in this somehow. I didn't think so or at least I doubted he had anything to do with the presence in the forest. It just felt so…inhuman. I shook my head. This was totally insane—I realized that. Ringwraiths and the like. I must have gone off the deep end for sure.

A low muttering reached my ears.

I froze, frantically scanning the dark room to find the source. The silence weighed heavily in the air to the point where my ears began to ring. Again, I squinted, trying to see more and just as I made to back up, something moved and I heard metal clanging against metal. Like chains.

In the corner farthest from me, where the starlight just ended and darkness began again, I saw a shape shift. A shape that was somewhat my size, possibly larger, wider. It was hard to tell. But it frightened me nonetheless. Was the Necromancer here the whole time? Or something else? An orc or—?

"Hello?" I called softly.

Lame, I know, but in my dead fear, I couldn't manage more than one word. That was the best I got.

I hadn't really expected a response and part of me didn't want one. Yet it came nonetheless.

"Who's there? Who? Who?"

The gruff voice gave him away as a male, either very old or very tired or perhaps both. He didn't sound like an orc or anything threatening. In fact, he sounded almost afraid. Of me?

"I'm Emily," I said, finally.

"Did he send you?" the man demanded. "Did he send you to kill me?"

"What? N-no, I—"

I heard him move. Rags scraping over stone. Chains rattling against the wall.

"Did he send you? Did he send you?! TELL ME!"

"No!" I shouted back and I was surprised it didn't echo.

The man was silent. When he spoke again, he was calmer and sounded almost sad.

"Are you real?" he whispered.

My eyes were fixed on the dark blur of him in the corner.

"Yes," I answered, uncertainly. "Yes, I'm real…"

There was a clinking noise— the sound of his chains shifting.

"Did he bring you here?" the man asked.

I nodded slowly. "Yes, to this room, I think, but… I don't how I'm even here. I mean… Are you from… well, the real world?"

He scoffed at me, or perhaps he only coughed. "This is the only world that concerns you now. Surviving him is the only thing that matters to you now."

I stared at his dark corner. "Him," I repeated. "You mean the Necro—"

"Shh! Don't say it! Don't bring him here!" he hissed fearfully.

"Sorry," I said quickly. "This is just so… weird. I feel like I'm dreaming."

The man breathed heavily. "This is no dream of fancy, child. This is a nightmare, a nightmare from which there is no waking."

I gulped, wishing he was just trying to scare me but knew otherwise by his tone.

"Who are you?" I asked.

He seemed to gasp. "Name? I have a name…"

"What is it?"

"Don't know… don't remember…"

I frowned. "You don't remember your name?"

"No!" he growled. "He took it from me! Made me forget!"

I furrowed my brows, seeing him twist and writhe. "It's okay," I soothed. "You'll remember."

"It's gone, gone, gone!" he moaned. "Took it from me."

The man let out a sob like a wounded dog. I wasn't sure what to do. I felt sorry for him but was hesitant to try and comfort him. He seemed, for the most part, a bit crazy. So, I did nothing and let him calm down on his own.

At this point, my eyes had adjusted to the dark rather well. I could make out the dark grey confines of the cell and the man's black blob in the corner, slouched and shaking. I could see more chains hanging on the walls and wondered why I hadn't been shackled up like him. Not that I was complaining. It was just odd and for some misplaced reason, I felt annoyed. It was as if I weren't even considered a threat and therefore not worth locking up. Jerks.

"Name… Took my name…"

I saw what I thought was a door and stood, not quite feeling lucky but unable to just sit here. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and walked over to it. I didn't really expect the door to be unlocked but I had to try. There was no handle so I gave the door a firm push and to my surprise, it moved outward. Hesitantly, I opened the door.

Crisp air met my face and flowed into my lungs, flushing out the stagnant smell of the stone cell. I took a step forward, outside. My gaze was directed upwards towards the sky. I don't think I've ever seen it so gorgeous and vast—millions of stars, all of them brilliant and clear. Out on the horizon, I could see the forest—not my forest, mind you, but perhaps the one I ended up in. It was huge, expanding in all directions, further than my vision could see. I took another step out and finally looked at the building I was in. It was like a ruined castle. It, like the cell, was made of old, worn stone and partially dilapidated. For the most part, it was all open—just a maze of staircases, arches, other rooms and crumbling walls. And a few long cages hanging about, some occupied by dried up corpses. Lovely.

"What are you doing? It's not safe out there."

I turned back around to face the man but when I did, I couldn't help but falter. As I saw him now, in the pale starlight, I felt the strangest twinge in my gut. Like I knew him from somewhere. I openly stared, not bothering to cover my gaping mouth or answer him.

The man was old, as I had guessed before. There was a scar running over one of his eyes—the eyelid was closed and healed shut. It was very likely that he had lost it. Across his brow and down the bridge of his nose were angular tattoos. He had long, grey hair and a grisly beard to match, ornamented with bits of metals and braids that had long since matted together. The clothes he wore were tattered and dirty, much like the rest of him, but they seemed to have once been quite nice. He had on tunic of sorts, wide trousers, an embellished overcoat and thick, heavy-looking boots. If I didn't know better, I'd say he looked distinctly dwarvish.

"Not safe, not safe. Get back!"

"Are you… a dwarf?" I asked him carefully. His legs, now that I think of it, did seem rather short for a man.

He sputtered, shaking his head. "Not safe anymore. Heads will roll, roll, rolling. Not safe. Get back here!"

He looked so familiar. But I knew I couldn't have seen him before, not really. It was like having something on the tip of your tongue. You know it but you don't.

Oh, c'mon! Nerd brain go! There must be a connection somewhere. Where did I know him from? Going on the crazy-ass notion that I was in Middle Earth—I shudder to think about the validity of my logic—he must have appeared in the major stories, even if briefly, right? Why else would he seem familiar to me?

Okay, slow the gears down. One step at a time. Necromancer is here, somehow, that means this should be The Hobbit timeline, right? That or nothing makes sense. I stared at the old dwarf intensely, ignoring his incoherent mutterings. It was his face. His deep set eyes and strong nose framed by dark hair. He sort of resembled… No. My eyes widened.

"Thorin," I murmured aloud.

The old dwarf's head snapped towards me. "What did you say?"

"I said 'Thorin'," I repeated. "You know that name, don't you?"

"Thorin?" he croaked. "Thorin?"

I nodded at him. "That's right. Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror... He's your son, isn't he?"

"My… my son?"

"Yes. Your name is Thrain," I told him. "You're Thorin's father."

"Thrain," he whispered. "I know that name."

"It's your name. Your name is Thrain."

His eye glazed over in thought as he repeated his name over and over. I blinked away my impatience and tried to snap him back to reality. "Listen," I began in a louder voice. "We're going to get out of here, okay?"

Thrain turned to me in a frenzy, eyes wide. "No! No! It's not safe," he cried, his chains rattling. "Not safe!"

I felt sorry for him but the need to escape was overwhelming. "Staying here isn't safe," I told him, hoping I'd convince him. "I'm going to look for a key to get you out of those chains," I continued, ignoring his protests. "We have to leave as soon as possible."

"Key? Secret key?"

"Right. I'm going to look for a key..." I called back but I don't think he was listening anymore.

Cautiously, I entered the nearest room. The door was partially unhinged and heavy. I pushed it aside and made sure it wouldn't swing back on me before entering. It was a small room, the walls lined with ancient weapons that had grown old and rusted from the elements. I'm not sure why it took an old weapons room to make me realize it but it did.

"Holy sh—"

I spun around, eyes wide, looking at the old building. The old fortress. Dol Guldur.

"Oh my god," I whispered.

How could I not have connected the dots before? Dream or not, I should have seen it. Maybe I was in shock. If I wasn't before than sure was now! I was in Middle Earth, in Mirkwood, in Dol Guldor which meant I was smack dap in the worst part of the world. Evil central! I had wanted to book it out of there before but now—!

I ran back into the weapons room and looked around for something to use as protection. It was a damn miracle that I had lasted as long as I had. It would've been my luck that in the first two minutes of being here, I'd get eaten by an orc. I wasn't going to carry on unarmed like a bozo!

There were axes as big as my head which I knew I'd never be able to lift. I grabbed a bow from the wall and tested it, pulling the string back only to have it snap. Great. Next, I tried for the wall of swords. Well, they weren't much better as they were bulky and heavy. These swords weren't beautifully crafted liked those of elves or men or even dwarves. They were ugly and jagged, not made to defend or protect but to kill. But I wasn't in any position to turn down a weapon. I took one of the smaller swords but found it was still quite heavy. It was a dark metal with two nasty spikes jutting out of the side, both stained with what I assumed was dried blood. I tried not to think about it as I gripped the leather hilt tighter and stepped back out into the night air.

Thrain was staring at me from within the cell. He wasn't muttering anymore which was probably a good sign. The more with it he was, the easier it'd be to communicate and work together.

"Do you know where the keys are?" I asked him. "The keys to those chains?"

His eyes darted from me to behind me then back again. A chill ran up my spine and I turned, expecting to see the worst. But no one was there. Nerves on edge, that's it.

"Thrain, we have to leave," I told the old dwarf. "We have to leave now."

He shook his head repeatedly. "No, no. Not safe."

I scowled. The last thing I needed was him to be difficult. I felt bad for him. The would-be King Under the Mountain was a prisoner, slowly slipping into insanity. But he was a liability. As much as I wanted him to suddenly snap to, I knew it wouldn't happen. Even if I did get him unshackled, what was to stop him from trying to keep me here? Or attacking me?

Thrain waved me closer, calling me into the cell. "It's not safe. Come back. Come back!"

I looked at him sadly. I really did want to help him but if I was compromised, I couldn't do jack for either of us.

"I'm going to get help," I told him gently.

"No! Come back! Come back!" he cried, his chains shaking. "It's not safe!"

"I will come back, Thrain," I promised. "Really. I'll come back and get you out of here."

"No… No…"

"I'll come back for you."

With that I turned and left, heading straight ahead. I started down a flight of steps, raising my sword, just in case. Thrain called out to me again but I ignored him. I had to get out. I figured that I could try to find the elves. I was in Mirkwood, after all. Maybe I could convince them to come back and rescue Thrain. And maybe get rid of the nest of evil in their woods… Okay, it's a plan. All I had to do was not get eaten by giant spiders and wander around until they found me—they had frequent scouting parties, right? Or intruder alarms…? It was a long shot but I didn't have much choice but to take it. But step one was getting out of here. And, of course, it was the hardest step.

Dol Guldur was a labyrinth. Its stairways and passages crisscrossed and twisted at least a hundred times over themselves, making it impossible to remember where I was going. Each thing I passed looked just the same as the last. I couldn't tell if I had been going in circles or what. I almost wanted to give up—my feet ached from walking as did my arm from holding the heavy sword, I was starting to get hot in my winter clothes yet still I refused to leave any part of myself behind. But what was worst was the uncertainty of my escape, the fear and anxiety that grew with each step.

After what seemed like forever, I came down a winding staircase, overgrown with dried up vines. When I reached the landing, a sense of déjà vu swept over me. To my right was an exit, a tall archway that led to a long, dangerous bridge. And then I turned around and saw twin statues behind me. My heart skipped a beat as I gazed upon the stone wraiths. I took a step back, eyes wide, expecting them to leap out at me. Neither moved and came to life nor tried to attack me but I swear I could feel their eyes on me from under the blackness of their stone hoods.

Still, I waited dumbly for their attack, slowly stepping back. Wait. I stopped in my tracks and clenched my teeth. I couldn't just back away and run. I had to get out of here. Keeping my eyes on the dormant wraiths, I adjusted my backpack on my shoulder and wiped the sweat from my palm on my skirt before re-gripping my sword. Okay...

An unfelt breeze sent a few fallen leaves skidding past me towards my destination. Go, I urged myself, now! I ran at full speed, hoping that my sudden action wouldn't awaken the statues. I really didn't think I'd get past them but I did; neither of them even moved! I felt elated, my hopes rising. I was already thinking of my next course of action. The elves—I'd head north. That'd be my best bet to run into them. Or maybe further south could be a better option? I could clear Mirkwood and end up around Rohan and pretty damn close to Lorien! Maybe Galadriel was expecting me! She could have a whole search party coming for me right now!

Hot, copper liquid burst into my mouth—blood.

I gagged and wretched up a mouthful onto the stone floor inches from my face. I had fallen, face first, into the ground. When my chin hit stone, I had managed to bite down on the side of my tongue, enough to draw a substantial amount of blood. I gagged again, trying not to swallow the bitter fluid. But what had tripped me up? I rolled onto my back, my text books digging into my spine, to see what happened. There was no one in sight.

Something wasn't right. The stillness of the air seemed forced and the silence was unnatural, just like back in the woods.

Run, I told myself again. Go!

I turned and sprang up but just as I did, something snaked around my ankle, pulling my leg out from under me. I braced myself as I slammed into the ground again, my forearms taking the brunt of the impact.

Scraping sounds filled my ears as I looked up to see the hundreds of dead vines slithering towards me like serpents. Shock and confusion was quickly replaced with horror and fear. One was still around my ankle, impeding my attempts to stand up and run. I clawed at the withered vine but it curled upwards around my calf, tightening its grip and trying to ensnare my hands. My sword! I had dropped it when I fell. Thankfully, it was within reach and I swung it at the opposing vine. I did away with it fairly easily but had no time to celebrate.

The other vines reached me, all encircling and restraining me despite my efforts. Some were as thick as my head and covered with long thorns which dug into my skin the tighter they held me. Others were smaller and able to knot in my hair and set my fingers at odd angles. I got a few good hacks into one of the big ones but a vine around my wrist cut off my circulation. As my fingers went numb, my grip loosened and my weapon dropped useless into the mass of undergrowth. No! I cursed and cried out and tried kicking and biting the plants but nothing proved effective.

Bloody hell! Even the plants were evil here! It was just like the Devil's Snare from Harry Potter! A thought struck me and suddenly, I went still. The vines continued to writhe and climb over me until I couldn't move even if I wanted to. I kept playing dead as I caught my breath.

I looked to the stone wraiths, both still unmoving. Okay, well that was in my favor. I tilted my head back, trying to see the exit that was so tauntingly close. A few more steps and I'd have been on the bridge. I was so close!

The wind picked up suddenly; my fringe was blown out of my face and the piles of crisp leaves fled to the corners of the landing. I could hear a voice on the air, quick and hissing. The words I couldn't make out but it sounded like another language, sort of like Parseltongue if I had to guess. Nerd brain, stop it! You're not prancing around Hogwarts, you idiot!

I lifted my head as much as I could, the vines still gripping my braid and holding me back. Beyond the wraith statues, I saw an archway, tall and narrow. It stretched back into the distance, appearing as if it went on forever. It was him, the Necromancer. My heart stilled as I waited for him to make his entrance, to morph out of the shadows of the arch.

But he didn't. It seemed I had things a little backwards: the Necromancer wasn't coming to me this time; I was coming to him.

As if in a horror movie, the vines began dragging me towards the opening where the Necromancer stayed waiting. I screamed when I realized what was happening and tried like mad to break free but to no avail. Maybe I should have stayed with Thrain. Maybe I should have listened to him. Maybe I should have taken that ride home from Jen.

With a swift motion, despite my struggling and silent pleading, I was pulled across the threshold, into darkness.