AN: So sorry for not updating the story for awhile, I've been super busy lately. Thanks for the reviews and everything. I'm hoping to get back to posting regularly. But will be traveling for the next few days.
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Chapter 10: Mirkwood
The company of dwarves, accompanied by Bilbo Baggins and the ranger Daeron, pressed further into the dense and foreboding depths of Mirkwood. The once vibrant forest had turned into an oppressive tangle of ancient trees and shadowy undergrowth. Thick canopies obscured the sky, blocking out the sun's rays and plunging the forest floor into perpetual twilight. As they ventured deeper, the air grew thick with moisture, and an unsettling silence settled around them. The songs of birds were absent, and even the rustling of leaves seemed to be hushed, as if the very forest held its breath, listening and watching their every move. Their initial enthusiasm had waned under the weight of Mirkwood's oppressive darkness.
Daeron had lost count of days due to the absence of the sun. Even the path through Mirkwood was difficult to spot with all the overgrowth. But Gandalf and Beorn's warning rang through his head, to stick to the path at all costs.
"How much longer, ranger?" Thorin asked gruffly when the company halted for a rest.
"I'm not sure, Thorin," Daeron said wearily, "There are no landmarks, no points of reference to track our progress. But if we follow the path, I'm certain we will reach our final destination." However, doubt seeped through his words. They could be walking around in circles for all he could tell. Their surroundings all looked the same, and there was no way to be certain that they were heading east. He had made a mental note of the direction, but without the sun or Erebor in the distance, there was a chance they had strayed.
"We camp here," Thorin barked.
The dwarves quickly set up temporary shelters. Daeron watched, keeping an eye on all the dwarves, making sure to count them twice. He didn't want a repeat of the Misty Mountains on his hands. When he was satisfied, he made his way towards Bilbo, who sat on a log, staring off into the distance.
"What troubles you, Master Baggins?" he asked, sitting beside the hobbit.
"This forest, Daeron—also, Bilbo is fine," he said, "No need for such formalities."
Daeron nodded his head, "Indeed, quite the difference from the Shire. I've been there before, on the outskirts. Never ventured too far in, but it was quite peaceful."
"Indeed," Bilbo said, "I do miss my home, but right now, I just miss the sun or the wind blowing in my face. This forest is quite the stark contrast to the Shire."
"Aye. I do miss Rivendell—the streams and brooks that flow through there, and the waterfalls. But have hope still; we shall get out of this," Daeron said, placing a gentle hand on Bilbo's shoulder.
"May I ask a question?" asked Bilbo, his voice thick with curiosity.
"Indeed," Daeron replied, pulling out his pipe.
"What's your tale? Gandalf mentioned a little about you but not a whole lot," Bilbo said before lowering his voice, "I heard him mention that Lord Elrond is your father."
Daeron lowered his pipe slowly and nodded his head, "Indeed. My parents were killed one day on a journey through the lone lands. They were leaving their old lives behind for me… you see, my father had sworn an oath as a ranger, as a Dunedain, but he wanted me to grow up somewhere safe. During the journey, we were ambushed. I was a mere child at the time, but I can remember it so clearly..." As he spoke, his voice grew lower, and a pained tone came over him, "The Valar had other plans, though, for Lord Elrond was in the area hunting when his party came across ours, and they made short work of the foul orcs. But by then, my parents had already been slain. He took pity on me and took me in as one of his own."
He continued his tale, talking about the antics that he and his siblings would get up to and the rigorous training that Lord Elrond made him take. When he was of age, he signed up to be a ranger, becoming an apprentice before becoming a full-fledged ranger. As he spoke, his voice grew distant. He smiled, remembering the memories that had made him who he was today. He then proceeded to ask Bilbo how he'd managed to join such a company. They were interrupted by Kili and Fili, handing out bowls of food.
"I don't like this forest one bit," Fili muttered, his eyes darting nervously from tree to tree. "I feel like we're always being watched."
Kili nodded in agreement, his face etched with concern. "And I feel like we've stepped into a never-ending nightmare. No sunlight, no wind, just trees, trees, and more trees, all closing in around us."
"We must be cautious," Thorin said firmly when he heard the uneasiness in his nephews' voices. "Daeron and Kili, you take the first watch. Everyone else, get whatever sleep you can. Once we rotate through, we move on."
Sitting beside Kili, Daeron took a deep breath, trying to ignore the oppressive weight of the forest air. The silence was unsettling, and the lack of any natural sounds made him uneasy. Normally, even in the quietest places, his elven ears could pick up the faint pitter-patter of creatures running through the forest floor. But here, there was just eerie silence. He could feel the forest's watchful eyes upon them, as if unseen creatures were observing their every move.
Kili tossed a small rune up into the air, catching it with practiced ease. "Daeron, are you still awake?" he whispered, breaking the eerie silence.
"Yes," Daeron replied softly, keeping his eyes on the shadows surrounding them.
"Do you really think we're going to get out of here?" Kili's voice trembled with uncertainty. "Uncle Thorin has been through here before, but he never described Mirkwood like this."
Daeron hesitated for a moment, contemplating how to ease the young dwarf's worries. "I believe so, Kili," he finally said, his voice firm with determination. "But Mirkwood is a treacherous place, and Gandalf's guidance has been sparse. We must stay vigilant and trust in each other to find our way through."
As they spoke, a sudden cry from Balin jolted them to their feet, their weapons drawn and ready for danger. Balin's face was ghostly pale, his finger pointing into the distance, trembling with fear.
"What?" Daeron demanded, scanning the area for any signs of danger. "What do you see?"
Balin's eyes remained fixed on something in the distance, but Daeron couldn't see anything. His heart raced with anticipation, prepared for any threat that might emerge from the shadows.
"It was there... a shadowy figure," Balin stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I swear it was there, watching us."
A tense silence settled over the group as they waited, their senses heightened. Daeron's eyes darted between the trees, seeking any sign of movement. The oppressive darkness seemed to close in around them, suffocating and disorienting. He thought he caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure but it disappeared as fast he'd seen it, causing him to doubt himself.
Thorin stepped forward, his presence commanding. "We stay alert," he declared, his eyes never leaving the gloomy expanse. "We will not be taken by surprise. Keep your wits about you, and we will overcome whatever lurks in these shadows," he said, his voice determined but tinged with a hint of worry.
Feeling the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, Thorin doubled the watch, recognizing the gravity of their situation. Everyone else settled in to catch whatever rest they could amidst the foreboding darkness of Mirkwood. Daeron found a quiet spot where he could sit and keep watch. Drawing on his elven heritage, Daeron closed his eyes for a moment, taking several deep breaths to calm his senses. His mentor's teachings echoed in his mind, guiding him in the ways of the ranger. "Control your emotions, Daeron," his mentor had often said. "A calm mind allows you to see clearly, even in the darkest of times."
With that wisdom in mind, Daeron opened his eyes, peering into the thick forest. At first, the darkness seemed impenetrable, but slowly his elven senses began to take over. His eyes adjusted to the lack of light, and his focus sharpened, granting him a sight beyond that of his companions. Blurred shadows gradually revealed themselves as distinct shapes—the towering trees with their weeping branches, the faint outlines of shrubs and ferns on the forest floor. Daeron's keen ears caught the faintest rustle of leaves and the hushed whispers of unseen creatures.
The longer he sat there, the more his perception grew. His vision seemed to pierce the darkness, and he could discern movement in the distance that would certainly elude others. He spotted the glint of a pair of eyes watching them from afar, and the stealthy approach of a nocturnal creature slinking through the underbrush.
The constant worry and tension that gripped the company did not completely elude him, but Daeron found solace in his training. Drawing from the teachings of both the Elves and the knowledge passed down through generations of Dunedain rangers, he anchored himself in the present moment. As he sat there, he remembered the gift that his grandmother had given him. He pulled out the pendant and as he brushed his fingers over it, he could hear her voice, "Take this gift as a token of my love and a reminder of the light within you. May it guide you and give you strength in the darkest of times." His mind wandered to his grandmother, Lady Galadriel of Lothlorien. It had been years since he had last visited her and his grandfather. As he continued to reminisce, fear and doubt were pushed aside as he focused on the positives before allowing himself to think once more on the task at hand—to safeguard the company through Mirkwood's treacherous depths.
They eventually changed shifts to allow Daeron to catch some much-needed sleep. He awoke to Bilbo shaking him.
"Thorin's ordered us to be on the move again," Bilbo said once Daeron had risen.
There was a passing of dried rations before they continued moving. Daeron led the way, his eyes now attuned to Mirkwood, easily spotting the path amongst the thick forest. They made good time, stopping twice to allow the others to catch their breaths. They eventually reached a fast-flowing river.
"Durin's beard," Thorin growled, "This must be that enchanted river that Beorn had mentioned."
"Enchanted river?" Daeron asked, his interest piqued.
"Indeed, I believe you were still sleeping when Beorn discussed this with Gandalf and us," Thorin replied, "We must find a way to cross. Without getting wet."
"Indeed, I believe you were still sleeping when Beorn discussed this with Gandalf and us," Thorin replied, "We must find a way to cross. Without getting wet."
The dwarves began scouring the surroundings for anything they could use to bridge the river. There was plenty of wood, but the span between the banks was too far. Daeron scanned the other side for a sliver of hope.
"There!" Bilbo shouted, his eyes wide with excitement, "A boat moored on the other side!"
Daeron rushed over to join Bilbo, who was jumping up and down, pointing with his finger. To his surprise, Daeron saw what Bilbo had seen, while the other dwarves grumbled about not seeing a thing. Curiosity arose in Daeron, wondering how Bilbo was able to spot such a craft, mostly concealed by foliage from Mirkwood. But he pushed that thought aside, knowing there would be time for questions later.
"Anyone have a hook?" Daeron asked, motioning for Kili to come forward and hand him the rope.
Thorin ordered everyone to check their packs to find anything that could act like a hook. Eventually, Bombur shouted excitedly as he handed Daeron a suitable item. Daeron quickly fashioned it onto the end of the rope and swung it violently to ensure the hook would stay in place.
"This might take a while," Daeron muttered, as he focused his attention on the boat and began to cast the rope across.
It took several attempts before he managed to latch onto the boat's stern. With careful coordination, the company managed to pull the boat closer to their side of the river. Daeron skillfully secured the rope to a nearby tree, creating a makeshift ferry system to glide across the enchanted waters.
"We have to cross in small groups," Daeron said, climbing aboard the boat, the wood groaning and creaking as he stepped on, "I don't think this will hold much weight."
He was followed by Kili, Thorin, and Balin. Daeron pushed off and used his arms to pull the boat along the line that spanned across the river. Thorin joined in the effort, and they glided across the river easily before Daeron returned to get the rest of the dwarves. It took several trips for everyone to get across safely. However, just as Daeron jumped off the boat to offer his hand to Bombur, who was the last dwarf to cross, Bombur lost his balance and splashed into the river. There were shouts as several dwarves rushed forward to help their brother. But Daeron shouted a warning.
"Don't touch the water."
The dwarves halted, their feet standing close to the edge of the river. Bombur lay close to the edge of the river, his body not moving at all. Daeron sprung lightly onto the boat and grabbed at Bombur's still form, dragging him around towards the shore, where several dwarves quickly grabbed his body and dragged him up.
"Is he dead?" Bilbo asked nervously.
Balin stood over Bombur, looking him over for several moments before calling, "He's alive… he's just sleeping."
"Can he move?" Thorin asked with annoyance thick in his voice.
"I'm not sure," Balin replied before shouting and violently shaking Bombur, to no avail.
"We carry him-" Thorin began before being rudely interrupted.
"Carry Bombur?" Dwalin asked, laughing slightly, "We'd have better luck just waiting for him to snap out of it."
"We don't have time!" Thorin shouted angrily, "Every day we linger in these woods is a day closer to Durin's day. We only have one chance to find this secret door into the mountain. We must press on."
"Thorin's right," Balin said, "We have no idea how long this spell will last for—could be hours, days… We simply don't know."
An argument broke out amongst the dwarves on who would carry Bombur first before they settled on drawing straws. Daeron and Dwalin lost and picked up Bombur as best they could and continued moving. Each step was slow going with Bombur's slumbering body being carried in shifts amongst the company. They had marched onwards at Thorin's command, a weariness seemed to linger amongst them causing them to slowly lose hope of ever making it out. Daeron had just handed Bombur to Fili when his eyes widened in horror. He peered out into the dark forest around them, in front of them there was nothing but tangled overgrowth, no stone path was visible.
"Valar have mercy," Daeron whispered, "Stop!" he shouted, causing the company to stop in the tracks and look around in panic and fear.
"What's the hold up!?" Thorin demanded making his way forward.
"The path… it's gone!" Daeron said slowly, turning around and scanning their surroundings.
"Useless ranger!" Thorin bellowed, "You had one task to get us through Mirkwood and you messed that up."
"We wouldn't be in this place if you had a better plan to cross!" Nori said angrily, "We're in this mess because we decided to reclaim our homeland."
Soon everyone began to argue, shouting and complaining about the predicament that they were all in.
"Enough!" Bilbo shouted, his tiny voice silencing everyone, "Us arguing isn't going to solve anything. I can climb the tree and get our bearings and we can head towards the mountain."
A murmur rippled through the company before they nodded their heads and agreed. Daeron followed Bilbo as he scrambled up the tree. For Daeron, climbing was easy as he effortlessly swung from branch to branch. The darkness began to reside and the air became less stuffy. Before both Bilbo and Daeron popped their head out of the tree line. For several moments they were momentarily blinded by the light of a warm afternoon. A cool breeze blew in their faces clearing the anger and confusion of the forest atmosphere away. Daeron closed his eyes enjoying the freshness. He looked around before Bilbo shouted and pointed towards Erebor which lay ahead of them, the majestic mountain looking more glorious and large.
"We're close!" Bilbo said excitedly, he ducked down below and yelled to the company before reemerging.
"Not exactly," Daeron said, "We're still a ways away but I think we're almost out of Mirkwood-" In the distance Daeron could see large moments causing the trees to bend and sway slightly, followed by hundreds of footsteps reaching his ears.
"Somethings coming, we've got to warn the others!" Daeron said ducking down below. As he tried to descend the tree as quickly as he could, he tried to keep an eye on Bilbo who was following him. As he reached out toward a branch he grabbed onto something sticky, which caused him to freeze. He turned his head slowly to see a large web on his right. He could hear whispers below but before he could cry out a warning something lunged at him knocking him out in an instance.