Author's Note: So this chapter did not come out the way I expected. I was shooting for having the Company already be in Thranduil's Halls by the end of this chapter but that... did not happen. Instead there's just a lot of Mirkwood. But I realized as I was writing that, in the book in particular, there's quite a bit that happens in Mirkwood so I'm pretty satisfied with the pacing and how I portrayed the creepy hopelessness of the forest. I hope you all will like it, too. Next chapter will be all about the elves and dungeons and time outs.

I want to thank you all for your favorites, follows, and reviews. I seriously love the feedback.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Laura.

Mirkwood was suffocating.

As the days, weeks, wore on a sense of dread and hopelessness fell over me and never left, day or night. And, if I wasn't mistaken, the rest of the Company was starting to feel the same way. Our supplies were dwindling, our meals were smaller, our waterskins growing lighter, and the forest path seemed never ending.

Then there were the eyes. They seemed to watch us all the time, and occasionally I even caught sight of them during the day- if you could call it day since the sunlight was so weak we could hardly see each other in the gloom.

But what was really getting to me was the nightmares.

I had an inkling after the first few nights that they weren't ordinary. And when more time had passed, weeks really, and they continued, it dawned on me that they weren't going away. They were as constant as the forest around me. Every morning, or rather every time we woke to begin walking again, I was numb, cold, and shaking like a leaf.

I wished, desperately, for Gandalf. I wished he was here with us. I wished that I'd told him everything about my ring and my nightmares because in that forest I honestly believed I would never see him again.

I was really only grateful for one thing during our time in Mirkwood and that was that my companions were so wrapped up in their own misery that they didn't notice my problems.

Even Thorin was staring to crumble. There was something about the forest that seemed to set him on edge, that got to him in way it hadn't quite with the rest of us. He was more sullen than ever, only speaking to Balin and Dwalin and even then with clipped words. Two days previous he'd snapped at Kili, of all people, and that was when I knew we were in trouble.

And then, of course, it got worse. In the middle of our third week – or I thought it was our third week, it was difficult to keep track - the path ended.

Before us was a black stream, deep and wide. We huddled together along the edge, staring despondently at the opposite bank. The rotten remains of a bridge stood on either side of the stream thanks to a fallen tree that had smashed through the middle. The tree was almost completely submerged, its huge thick branches sticking out of the water were the only evidence that it was even there.

I eyed it warily, listening to the dwarves' murmuring absently. That wasn't good.

"What do we do?" Dori demanded anxiously, the one to truly speak up first.

I exchanged a look with Bofur, who offered, "We could swim?"

"No," Thorin barked, though the words that followed were as measured as ever, "Beorn said this stream is enchanted. It isn't safe. We must find another way across."

We spent quite a long time sitting at the stream's edge and glaring at the other side. We ate our meager midday meal, a small chunk of hardtack and one sip each from our waterskins, in silence. All our attention was spent on trying to think of a way over the water.

After eating, Fili and Kili had moved together towards the wrecked bridge giving the branches serious consideration.

"These branches might be strong enough," Kili suggested hopefully, already moving forward to give them a try.

Before I could even open my mouth to declare that was worst idea I had heard since entering the forest, Thorin intervened.

"Kili," He called to his nephew, voice filled with authority as he rose to his feet. "We send the lightest first."

I narrowed my eyes. Surely Thorin didn't mean me.

A swift glance around confirmed that the dwarves were already staring at me expectantly.

Oh, hell no.

"No," I announced determinedly, standing up, "Absolutely not."

"You're the lightest," Kili informed me as if I didn't pick up on Thorin's implication. "We need to be sure it's safe!"

They were very obviously not safe, even I could see that.

My irritation simmering, I said without thinking, "By that logic, wouldn't it need to be the other way around?"

Half a dozen head swiveled to Bombur. The rest followed, more thoughtfully, a few moments later. Bombur was looking alarmed now, and that would not do.

"We are not sending Bombur," I snapped, which seemed to cow at least a few of them. Bombur's relief was palpable. "We'll have to think of another way."

No one seemed to want to argue with me, which was genuinely surprising, but that didn't stop them from argue amongst each other. I listened halfheartedly for a few minutes before a soft rustle of leaves from across the river caught my attention. I frowned, trying desperately to see through the darkness at what might be there. The dwarves caught on quickly enough, all of them growing quiet as the rustling became louder.

We all stood tense for a long moment, the dwarves with their weapons at the ready, before something huge and white burst through the trees, leaping clean across the broken bridge and snapping the branches of the fallen tree in its wake.

It was a deer, I realized while it was in the air. A pale deer, huge and pearly white even in the dim light of the forest. Its antlers grew at least four feet from its head and it looked to be twice the size of a horse.

The deer skidded across the forest floor when it landed, knocking Nori, Bofur, and Gloin down and shoving me back into Bombur with its flank before darting away through the forest.

Behind me, I could feel Bombur lose his balance. I turned quickly only to find him already halfway falling towards the dark water below us.

On instinct I reached for him, grabbing the first thing I could: his beard.

I had two fistfuls of his red braid in hand, pulling desperately at it to try and keep Bombur out of the black water all the while shouting, "Sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

It wasn't enough, I realized in panic a split second later, I was nowhere near strong enough to pull Bombur back to safety and I could feel my own footing slip.

Suddenly there was a dwarf wrapping his arms around my middle, pulling me, and by extension Bombur, as best he could away from the stream. Not a second later came several more hands tugging at my shoulders and hip before reaching around me to grab onto Bombur's suspenders.

After a terrifying minute in limbo that felt bizarrely like a game of tug-a-war, we all fell back onto the shore in a huge pile not unlike how the majority of the dwarves entered Bag End the night we met.

I wheezed out a breath, more than aware of how Bombur was crushing me. Beneath us the dwarves were cursing and trying to roll out from under the heap.

Finally, after extracting limbs and elbowing each other in the ribs a fair number of times, we were all free.

I sucked in air, struggling to my feet and stumbling away from the group. I could see Bofur and Bifur crowding Bombur, checking him over and berating him at the same time. I let out a sigh in relief to see Bombur looked unharmed, if a little shaken. Turning away I let my eyes travel up and down the river bank. Though the monster-deer had made it across I had my doubts that any of us could make a leap so successfully.

Then a black shape further up the opposite bank caught my eye. I don't know how I had been able to see it for what it was, as everything in Mirkwood was a black shape after a certain distance, but there it was resting along the stream's shore.

A boat.

No way.

I scrambled towards it, feeling something like hope begin to kindle in my chest. I ignored Thorin shouting behind me, instead choosing to follow the stream's bank so that I came to a stop directly across from the little boat.

I narrowed my eyes, desperate to confirm what I was seeing.

"Burglar," Thorin snarled from close behind me.

I turned to him, ignoring how he had begun to open his mouth and pointed to my discovery. "Look. Do you see it?"

Thorin took a step closer before going very still. It was entirely possible that he had stopped breathing.

"Fili," Thorin called over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off the boat, "Come here!"

We waited in silence as the other dwarves approached, Fili coming up beside Thorin with Kili close behind.

"Uncle?" Fili asked uncertainly.

Thorin lift his hand to point, as I had, towards the boat. "Tell me what you see."

Fili was quiet for a long moment then declared, "It is a boat."

"A boat?" Gloin asked eagerly as he joined us. "Are you certain, lad?"

"Yes," Fili confirmed after a moment, "It looks as if it's banked along the shore."

"Is it tied?" Balin asked this time, voice urgent.

Fili was silent for a few heartbeats before he replied. "No, I don't believe so."

"What good will a boat do us?" Dori wanted to know. "We cannot cross the river to it."

We all became lost in thought as silence settled around us. Then an idea occurred to me.

I turned to the others, "What about a rope?"

For the first time in many weeks, the dwarves seemed to brighten. They all began to talk at the same time and yet still appeared to be on the same page. In just a few short minutes the dwarves had engineered a plan to get the boat onto our side of the river.

We all watched with bated breath as Kili nocked an arrow to which the dwarves had tied a coil of rope, took aim, and fired. There was the sound of splitting wood and as one Fili and Kili pulled the rope taut. It had actually worked.

It was a long time before the boat reached our bank. And when it did, it seemed to cut through the gloom eerily like a ghost ship. It was covered in loose moss and vines but the boat itself looked sturdy enough.

Dori stepped up, the second length of rope in his hands which was tied to a huge hook, pulled back his arm and threw the hook with all his might. It caught in the branches of the trees on the other side and Dori gave it a few strong tugs to make sure it was secured. Seemingly satisfied, Dori tied the rope around the nearest tree giving us the means to pull ourselves across the river.

Now it was time to test the plan. I already knew what was coming before anyone could suggest it. And this time, it did actually make sense.

"Send the lightest one first," I recalled dully. "I know."

The dwarves looked relieved that I didn't argue and to all of our surprise, Ori volunteered to go with me.

"I'm the lightest after Master Baggins," Ori explained, nervous now that we'd all turned to look at him. "We'll go together."

As expected, Dori threw up quite a fuss. But what was most surprising was Nori's adamant refusal to let Ori anywhere near it. Eventually it was decided that the boat would need to be examined before anyone would be sent across. Dwalin took up the task, knocking on the boat's sides as if listening for something and examining the bottom of it thoroughly. Nori was a step or two behind him, arms crossed.

"Thank you," I said to Ori, watching Nori crowd Dwalin away from the boat to take his turn to look it over. Dwalin refused to move far, and it was his turn to cross his arms as he loomed over Nori.

Ori turned to look at me, eyebrows furrowed.

"For offering to go with me," I explained, nodding at the boat, "It will be less frightening, having someone with me."

"You're frightened?" Ori asked, looking surprised at his own question, as if he hadn't meant to let it out.

I tilted my head, confused. I'd thought it was obvious. I was so clearly out of my depth even after all this time. And now that Gandalf was gone – well. "Of course. I often am."

Ori looked stunned. He only had time to open his mouth to reply before Thorin had finally had enough and called over to Dwalin and Nori, "Let us get on with it." Thorin turned to Ori and me, "Ori, Master Baggins."

I shrugged at Ori who bravely clambered in first. When I moved forward to join him, I found myself hauled up and into the boat by Dwalin, who took a moment to steady the boat for us after we were settled. Then, we were off.

It took us a long time to reach the other side. The boat, though still capable of staying afloat, was still precariously unbalanced. With every movement we made to pull our boat along the rope above us the boat would tip, bringing us alarmingly close to the black water of the stream. It didn't help that every thirty seconds or so the rest of the Company would demand that we report our status, clearly worried that we wouldn't make it. It would've been sweet if it wasn't so damn irritating.

Finally, finally, we made it to the opposite shore. I stood up and was the first to hop onto solid land. I offered a hand to Ori, who gladly took it, and together we breathed out a sigh of relief.

"We've made it!" I called to the others across the stream.

Ori and I both smiled at the loud cheering we received in reply.

Together we watched the boat slowly make its way back across the stream, the arrow holding strong and true, to the dark shapes that were the rest of the Company. After we were sure that the boat had arrived back with the others, Ori and I slumped against the nearest tree and waited.

Next to me Ori led out a shaky sigh. I turned to him, eyebrows raised.

Ori must have seen my expression- damn dwarven night vision, I thought to myself- because he said sheepishly, "I am not overly fond of deep water."

I was struck by the selflessness of Ori's offer. It was a kind, what he did for me, so I wouldn't have to go alone.

"You're very brave, Ori," I told him sincerely. Ori glanced over at me. It was difficult to tell but I thought he might've been blushing.

Together, we turned back to where the others were. The boat had made it quickly across without passengers. We watched as four more dwarves stumbled into the boat. I frowned. That seemed like too many for such a little vessel.

Clearing my throat, I shouted, "Be careful, please! The boat is a bit unbalanced!"

"Yes, Bilbo!" Fili called back, unnecessarily exasperated.

I rolled my eyes. At least I warned them. If they fell in it wasn't going to be on my conscience.

Ori and I kept our eyes on the boat during its crossing, jolting up in alarm a fair number of times as the black blob tipped precariously to one side and the dwarves in the boat tried desperately to right themselves.

Soon Fili, Kili, Dwalin, and Balin had joined us on our side. Balin looked a bit green, Dwalin thunderous, and Fili and Kili sheepish but they'd made it at least. Fili refused to meet my eyes before he turned – which was incredibly vindicating - and shouted an affirmative to the dwarves on the other bank before watching the boat slice across the water once more.

Dori, Nori, and Bofur came next who managed the boat a great deal better than the rest of us, likely because Dori had taken charge and would shout in dwarvish at the other two if they so much as moved a finger without his say-so.

Next were Oin, Gloin, and Bifur, who seemed to have the worst trouble of us all and I honestly thought that they would fall in more than once. Oin was furious when they arrived and refused to talk to anyone about their crossing while Gloin looked just as sheepish as Fili and Kili. Bifur, on the other hand, appeared completely unconcerned as he joined his cousin.

Finally, Thorin and Bombur were the last to join us and seemed to be the ones with the least amount of difficulty. Their journey was completely silent and once they had disembarked the boat we all gave an exhausted cheer.

That night we camped as far from the stream as we could get before collapsing, eager to put the eerie feeling it had given us to our backs. We fell asleep quickly that night, truly believing that the worst was behind us.

We were so wrong.

Four days later we ran out of food. Our waterskins were nearly empty and our morale had dipped to an all-time low.

And then there were the cobwebs.

As we continued along the path, it seemed to slope down into some sort of valley. The farther in we went, there seemed to be more and more silky webbing in the trees and undergrowth of the forest. And they weren't small either. They were easily large enough to catch a deer- even a monster-deer- or, I couldn't help but think with a shiver, a hobbit.

I wasn't the only one who noticed either. The dwarves were wary, even scared I think, of what we were walking into. I could feel Kili regularly press up close to me in the murky darkness as if to protect or reassure me. Or, maybe, to reassure himself.

However, we were safe on the path, Balin assured us, which was protected by some sort of magic, and that was a silver lining. The only silver lining, really, because we had no food. Our water was almost gone. And we had no idea how far we still had to go.

"Is there no end to this accursed forest?" Thorin growled next to me as we took our midday break. Even though we no longer had food we still stopped at the same times we would have for meals to maintain a routine.

I hummed thoughtfully, lifting my head to stare up into the trees. There was a large and impressive oak tree next to the path that seemed to stand taller than the rest. Its thick branches hung low, low enough that if I were to stand on someone's shoulders, even I could reach them.

Thorin turned his head to look too, and appeared to come to the same conclusion I did. He turned to me, almost hesitant. "Master Baggins, may I ask of you-"

I didn't bother to let him finish. I already knew my answer. "Yes, alright. I'll need a hand, though."

Once the rest of the dwarves heard Thorin's idea they were all for it. Only Fili seemed even a little reluctant.

"You'll be alright Bilbo?" Fili asked halfheartedly, his hand resting on my shoulder.

I shrugged. "I've climbed trees before." The last time – well, before the orcs anyway - I was twelve but I wasn't going to mention that. "And it'll help, I think, to know where we are."

Fili agreed with a nod, moving aside to let Dori to grab hold of me and lift me into the tree. Once Dori was sure that I had a good hold, he let go and backed away to join the others.

I stared up at the branches above me, uncertain now that I was actually there. There were quite a few. How did I always end up doing something ridiculous?

With a sigh I began to climb, ignoring the dwarves' well-meaning shouts of encouragement.

I don't know how long it took, or how high I really was because I refused to look down. All I could do was climb towards the thin rays of sunlight that seemed to grow stronger with every minute. And then, with one last heave, I broke through the last of the branches and felt, for the first time in weeks, true sunlight.

My eyes were screwed shut, on instinct. The light seemed so bright, it hurt even through my eyelids, my eyes watering. But I tried to make the best of it, tilting my face up and soaking in the sunlight. It felt so good on my skin. I didn't realize how much I'd missed it until I felt it again.

Quickly, though, I remembered my objective. Squinting in the bright light I slowly took in my surroundings. Green. All I saw was green. I felt my stomach drop. In front of me, behind me, to each side, was sea of dark green, stretching far into the horizon even to the east. There was no end in sight.

Feeling sick, I swayed slightly as a breeze passed around me and hundreds of butterflies were taking flight from the tops of the trees. My breath caught and the crush of despair eased. There were so many, huge and so purple they were almost black and moving together in a great cloud. I'd have to tell Ori, to add it to his journals.

After the last butterfly disappeared back into the treetops, I shook myself out of my reverie and with a heavy heart began my slow descent. As I drew closer to the ground, I wondered how I would break the terrible news to the dwarves.

Once I had reached the bottom and caught sight of their hopeful faces, I knew what I had to do.

I lied.

"Well?" Thorin demanded gruffly.

"We still have far to go," I admitted, trying not to wince as the dwarves visibly deflated. "But the trees begin to thin out farther east. I think we'll be out of the forest very soon!"

As one the dwarves burst into relieved smiles and grasping each other's shoulders, delighted by my report. All except, to my unease, Thorin, who was still watching me. I felt only a twinge of guilt. If they lost their hope, so would I, and then there would be no way we would ever make it out of Mirkwood.

I watched as the dwarves began to pick up their too-light packs and begin their march along the path, keen to close the distance between us and our supposed escape.

I didn't notice that Thorin had moved to stand next to me until he spoke.

"What did you see, Burglar, truly?" Thorin asked softly, gaze unwavering.

I let my eyes land on the forest floor. There was no point in lying. I admitted quietly, "There wasn't an end. I saw nothing but green."

Thorin was quiet for a long time, even after he pressed a hand between my shoulders to guide me to follow the others. Then, so quietly that for a moment I wasn't sure that I had heard him, he said, "Thank you."

I didn't answer, my throat closing and my eyes stinging.

Three days later, what little hope I'd managed to kindle in the dwarves had gone out completely.

Without food or water, even the belief of us being so near the end of the forest was not enough to keep the others motivated. Mirkwood was as dark as ever and the oversized cobwebs were everywhere now.

I found myself next to Bofur wishing, not for the first or last time, that Gandalf was with us.

Off to our left, Balin suddenly called, "Did you see that?"

We all perked up at his question and scrambled over to him as quick as we could.

"See what?" I demanded eagerly, trying not to mind being pressed uncomfortably between Nori and Oin.

"A light," Balin said slowly, turned towards the blackness between the trees. "There, do you see?"

We all turned too, falling silent at the sight of a small twinkling light deep in the forest.

"What is it?" Kili wondered.

"Let's find out," Fili suggested, throwing caution and common sense to the wind.

I exchanged a look with Nori, who looked as unimpressed as I was with the idea. As if they had all agreed without saying a word, the rest of the Company surged forward off the path towards the twinkling light. I stared in horror at Thorin who, besides Nori and I, was the only one left.

"No," Thorin bellowed at their backs, "Do not leave the path!"

The others either didn't hear him or didn't care as they neither stopped nor slowed down. I lost sight of them as they pushed deeper into the forest, the only way I knew they were still there was the noise they were making. Hunger was enough to drive them to absolute recklessness.

"Come on," I said and turned to Nori and Thorin, against every bit of sense I had. "We can't be separated."

Nori and Thorin both looked even less enthused than I was but quickly outpaced me as we ran through the trees. Once we finally caught up to the rest of the rest of the Company, the light- which I wasn't sure looked any closer or not- went out. I could've sworn I heard laughter in the forest around us as we were plunged into total darkness.

"There was a feast!" Dori exclaimed through the darkness. "Did you see?"

"What good is a feast," Thorin said, fury turning his words sharp, "If we do not return from it?"

I could hear the others murmuring. I turned to look towards where I assume we came from, but I couldn't see anything. Only black. "Can any of you see the path?"

There was another rustle of noise as the others turned. Then cries of dismay, slowly growing more frantic. I felt my heart sink. Gandalf hadn't been exaggerating when giving us his final instructions. This was perhaps the worst thing we could have done.

For a long time, the dwarves argued about what to do, their tempers fraying. I stayed quiet, mostly because I knew I wouldn't be able to hide my panic if I spoke and I didn't want to feed into anyone else's. Finally, it was agreed that it would be best to try and find the path. Nori insisted that he knew which direction it was and since none of us had any idea it was decided that we would let him lead.

We stayed close, shoulders knocking into one another as we walked. I couldn't decide if it was a blessing or a curse. My clumsiness, that I'd thought I had mostly shaken now that I'd grown used to large hobbit feet, had roared back to life. I'd tripped over tree roots four times in the last hundred steps and the only thing that saved me was whichever dwarf had shifted in front of me. The first was almost certainly Dwalin, it felt like I had run into a brick wall. The second was either Oin or Gloin, I couldn't tell. The third was Bifur, who turned to steady on my feet with a few words in dwarvish. The fourth, though, I didn't know, because I had only knocked shoulders with them before I fell sprawling into the dirt.

I was going to scream. I was going to scream.

The others at least, noticed instantly and they all stopped walking. One of the dwarves was suddenly next to me, I heard them move into what I assumed was a crouch.

"Bilbo," Kili said next to my ear. And that solved that mystery.

"Yes?" I asked weakly, trying, with little success, to keep my temper in check. I stayed where I was, not ready to get up. I hated this stupid forest and its stupid darkness and its stupid tree roots.

"Are you alright?" Kili wanted to know, laying a gentle hand on my back.

"Sure," I agreed tiredly. "I just can't see well, that's all."

There was a beat of silence before Kili asked, "Really? How badly?"

When I turned my head and squinted through the blackness at where Kili's voice was coming from, there was nothing.

"Very," I admitted unable to keep my irritation out of my tone. "By 'well' I mean 'at all.'"

Kili sucked in a breath as the rest of the Company murmured quietly around us.

"That's fine, Bilbo," Kili finally said, pulling me to my feet by my elbow. "Here."

Kili's hand slipped into mine and squeezed gently.

Oh my God. I narrowed my eyes in thought but could come up with no other solutions. This was, feasibly, the best idea.

"Fine," I told him resignedly. "Lead the way."

My reluctance almost immediately turned into relief. Kili, as it turned out, was an excellent guide. His hand was dry and warm and he always made sure to tell me when to step over a tree root, stopping to lead me over one every single time. If I wasn't so mortified I would've thanked him.

Before I could work up the energy to do just that, a second twinkling light appeared.

We all stopped and stared, too startled by the sudden appearance of the light to do much else. It was far away, like the first light had been, but brighter this time.

As one, we all began to move forward, conscious of our every move. We crept quietly together, Kili's hand gripping mine so tightly that I was beginning to lose feeling in my fingers. I could hear voices and laughter, unmistakable this time as we closed the distance between us and the light.

We came so close that I could see tall lean figures moving amongst the trees but I was unable to make out any details. And then, like the time before, the light suddenly went out. All that was left behind was darkness and silence.

The dwarves began to curse loudly, unconcerned about whether or not the figures we had seen could hear them. Kili let go of my hand, moving towards the others' voices while I stayed where I was. I tried to push down the anxiety and fear that had begun to well up again in my chest. What if the lights were leading us deeper into the forest on purpose? What were they? What was the endgame?

When I pulled myself out of my thoughts, I was struck with horror. The dwarves' voices had gone very faint and after a terrifying moment I realized they were moving farther and farther away.

"Kili?" I shouted nervously, crashing through the undergrowth to where I thought the voices were coming from, tripping over roots, and running through sticky spider webs as I went. "Fili? Bofur?"

In the distance, I could hear the dwarves shouting back. And then after catching one last faint cry of "Bilbo," it went quiet, no matter how many more times I called out. I was alone in silence and in darkness.

I took a deep breath, feeling the tears of panic gathering on my lashes.

I walked on, desperate to hear anything in the forest, and even hoping for another appearance of the lights. But I found nothing.

I finally stopped my wandering, leaning against one of the forest's massive trees, trying not to cry, and determined to find my companions once the dark of night had lifted. I very carefully didn't consider the possibility that it was daytime. I had to hope. Hope that in a few hours, even if it would mean that I'd only be able to see a few feet in front of me, there would be some light to come.

So, with a heavy heart, I closed my eyes hoping to fall asleep quickly. I wanted to find my friends. I wanted out of Mirkwood.

I fell asleep with tears in my eyes, not hearing the faint rustling of branches above me.

It wasn't light coming after all. It was something else entirely.

When I woke up next, I thought I was in bed. I felt constricted just like when a blanket had wrapped around you after a restless night. I was disoriented for a long minute trying to shake off the terror of my latest nightmare and figure out exactly where I was. I remembered falling asleep curled at the bottom of a tree. I remember hoping when I woke up something would change. Well, it had.

My eyes shot open in alarm as I took in my situation. I couldn't unpin my arms and couldn't kick out a leg, that was still the case, because I wrapped in something tacky that clung to my skin and clothes. I was moving, too, I could feel that I was being dragged across the forest floor. But how?

I tried to move one of my arms, this time with all my strength, to push myself up and get a look at my surroundings but found I could only move it a couple of inches away from my body. I tried the same with both legs, frighteningly aware of the sticky bindings around me and got the same result. I squinted through the filmy whiteness, trying to see anything, anything at all, as I tried my best to ignore the terror clawing at my chest.

Then I heard it: a soft clicking noise and the sound of something moving through the forest ahead of me. Something was making that noise and they had, for all intents and purposes, captured me.

I needed my sword. I needed to get out.

Trying again, this time with real panic, I was able to push against my bindings, allowing my arm to move just enough to grasp at the hilt of my sword. With a tightness in my arm in an effort to keep it as far from my body as I could, I used my fingers to slowly extract my sword from its sheath and push what part of the blade I had freed against the wrappings. It was a testament to my sword and its sharpness, not my strength when slowly the stickiness lifted and I could feel air move against my skin. Confidence rising, and with far more freedom of movement, I took the hilt in hand and swung my blade through my bindings before pushing them away from my body with my other hand.

I had successfully pulled the top half of my body free from my confinement when I came face to face with my captor. Or rather, face to fangs.

It was a spider. My mind flashed back to the webs we had seen along the path. Of course it was a spider.

But it was no ordinary house spider either, oh no, Middle Earth didn't seem to do things halfway. It was a huge creature, easily the size of a bear, and it was bearing down on me with fangs extended.

I reacted purely on instinct. Pulling the hilt of my sword close to my chest, I thrust it up into the spider's gaping maw. The spider squealed in agony, its huge thick legs moving wildly on either side of me, desperate to pull itself away from my blade. I followed it, not allowing it to extract my sword from its head. I gave one final push at my sword, feeling the blade sink deeper into the spider before pulling it out quickly.

The spider fell over, flailing violently in its last moments. Then, after a few seconds, it went utterly still with its legs curled up tight against its massive body.

It was dead.

Shit. Shit.

Panting heavily, I quickly turned my attention to my still-trapped legs, cutting at the remaining spider silk. I pushed myself to my feet quickly, wavering slightly before I caught my balance. Once I was sure I would stay upright, I clutched my little sword, and got a good look around me.

And then promptly wished I hadn't.

I was in a clearing of sorts, the trees were covered in spider webs, thick and white, their branches curved down with the weight of them. I could see small bundles hangings from the branches above me, which I realized with a rush of sickness were the bodies of their prey.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a second spider moving in the branches above me. A third was descending a nearby tree trunk. Spiders number four, five, and six crawled out of several tent-like webs to my left.

And they were all moving, frighteningly fast, in my direction.

I could feel cold terror envelope me. I had been extremely lucky to have been able to dispose of the first spider. There was absolutely no way I could take six, if not more, spiders head on.

I inhaled sharply when my left palm pressed over the pocket of my waistcoat. Even through the layers of fabric, I felt the edges of the ring press back.

I would have to, I thought, as the spiders caught sight of me and moved even faster, it was my only option. So, without stopping to think about the promise I'd made at the river, I slipped the ring over my index finger and took a step back.

At once I felt like I'd been dunked in an ice bath. The world turned suddenly blurry and gray and the spider's noises were so loud with them so close, I wanted to clutch at my ears. The spider that reached me first lunged at me, or where it last saw me. I quickly bolted out of the way, moving to press myself against the nearest tree trunk. I took in a deep breath and held it.

I watched as the spider hissed and shifted, confused at my sudden disappearance. The others quickly reached it and began to investigate. The spiders moved with the grace of true predators, each move calculated. They hissed and clicked at each other for a long while, long enough that I started to become lightheaded because of a lack of air. Finally, they seemed to determine that I was a lost cause and began to move away back deeper into the den.

I let out my breath gustily, trying to resist the urge to throw up. I had suddenly obtained a paralyzing fear of spiders.

After I'd decided a safe amount of time had passed and no more spiders had emerged, I quickly pulled off my ring. I felt an immediate wave of relief wash over me. The greens and browns of the forest returned and the air was suddenly much lighter, which was impressive given that I was in the heart of Mirkwood.

I slowly pulled away the rest of the webbing that clung to me the best I could and considered my options.

I could run. But to where? I could explore. Hell no. I didn't want to find out if there were any more spiders out there. I could hide. Unlikely. I was always terrible at hide and seek and Bilbo's hobbit magic wouldn't be able to protect me forever, not if I wanted to leave and wound up back into the dark forest.

A noise deeper in the spider den made my decision for me. It was a familiar noise, one I'd heard several times before: When we had first arrived in Goblin Town in a haphazard pile of bodies. When I'd found Gandalf in the goblin tunnels. After I'd pulled Bombur to safety.

It was a dwarf's groan.

That was more than enough to make me press deeper into the spider's den. If I could find even one of the dwarves then it would be more than worth the risk.

I didn't have to venture very far at all when I found the dwarves. And I had found all of them. All thirteen, strung up in a tree like many white piñatas.

Good God. This day was getting better and better.

I glared at the tree for a moment, trying to think of a way to free them. I was nowhere near tall enough to reach them from the ground nor did I feel confident enough in my sword throwing skills to try and knock them loose.

I eyed the tree's trunk and the spider silk that covered it before sighing in defeat. It would have to do.

With one last cursory glance at my surroundings to determine that the spiders were indeed gone, I began my climb. It wasn't difficult, per say, to climb the tree. The spider webs made it easy for my hands and feet to cling to the tree trunk and up into the branches. I settled onto the branch that held up three dwarf-cocoons and with one perilous swipe of my sword I cut the first one loose. It fell to the forest floor with a sickening thump followed by a pitiful moan.

On instinct I froze, reached back into my pocket to put back on my ring, and waited.

Sure enough, not a moment later did two spiders emerge from the forest. They made an immediate beeline to my tree, one stopping to investigate the dwarf-cocoon that had fallen while the other began to scale the tree.

I pressed my back against the trunk of the tree, watching through the gray haze as the spider walked right over me on its way up to investigate the higher branches. I did my best not to squirm. I hadn't ever considered hating spiders before Mirkwood. Now I was reconsidering my opinion.

Eventually, though, both spiders left again after a lot more clicking and hissing, thankfully leaving the one dwarf on the ground where he had landed.

I pulled off my ring once more with a shiver, deposited it into my waistcoat pocket, and counted to one hundred. When no more spiders appeared, I cut down the other two dwarves on my branch.

I waited a long moment, straining my ears to catch any hint of the spiders returning. Nothing. Either the spiders had lost interest or had terrible hearing but either way I was safe.

Then I climbed to the next branch, then the next, cutting down every single dwarf I came across.

Satisfied that I had counted all thirteen dwarves on the ground twice, I slowly made my way back down the tree trunk, rolling my eyes at the dwarves' muffled moaning. Honestly, such theatrics.

Once I reached them, I hissed, "Quiet! You'll make the spiders come back!"

As one, the dwarves fell silent.

To my left a dwarf who I was almost positive was Bofur said, muffled by their cocoon, "Bilbo?"

"Yes," I replied with a sigh. "I'm going to cut you free. When I do, be ready, because I think the spiders are close by. Are any of you hurt?"

I received a muffled chorus of 'no's' in reply.

"Wonderful," I told them, pleased and relieved. "Alright, hold still."

I reached for the nearest dwarf and cut through their webbing. It was Dwalin who looked nothing short of livid. He roughly began to remove the remaining spider silk before joining me in freeing the rest of the dwarves.

One by one, the dwarves were freed. None of them were hurt, as they claimed, but Ori and Gloin both looked unwell. They were swaying even while they were sitting and there was something dazed in their eyes.

"Spider poison," Oin declared loudly after looking over Ori.

We all froze. Oh, no.

Sure enough, only a handful of heartbeats had passed before not two but three spiders emerged from the trees.

Oh, shit.

"Maker's sake, brother," Gloin growled, war axe already in hand.

The dwarves began to draw their weapons, the spiders hissing and clicking as they rushed us.

Thorin made first contact, swinging Orcrist in a perfect arc and cutting into the nearest spider's head and severing its front-most legs. The spider had no time to react as Fili drove one of his twin blades deep between its eyes.

The whole Company moved as one as more spiders began to pour out of the trees around us. There were easily dozens of them and they had no intention of letting us escape.

But even when there are only thirteen, dwarves are still formidable fighters, and I was glad to see their fight with the trolls was the rule, not the exception. Not only were they aggressive and unintimidated but they also moved in sync with one another. If Nori was parrying a spider's fangs then Dori was driving his short sword into its belly. If Bombur landed a well-aimed swing of his enormous ladle then Bifur was delivering a finishing blow with his spear. It was as much premeditative as it was instinct.

I found myself facing off with my own spider, my little sword raised in defense. I was suddenly thankful for my size. I was so small compared to the spider in front of me that when it lunged it missed as I lunged too, to the right, and pushing my sword deep into its abdomen in between its legs.

I moved to the next spider, dispatching it easily with a quick thrust of my sword through its head.

Then there was the third spider. It caught me off-guard, attacking from my right as I was still pulling out my sword from the corpse of its fallen brethren. With a swipe of a leg it knocked me clean off my feet, sending me to forest floor hard enough to knock the wind out of me.

I wheezed in pain, alarmed at how quickly the spider had moved to bear down on me. Behind it I could see spiders number four and five move to join it. I pushed to my feet, dodging the second swipe just barely, and took off away from the fighting.

"Master Baggins!" I heard Thorin shout behind me but I didn't stop to turn around. I couldn't. I could hear the spider move quickly behind me and I knew instantly that I wouldn't be able to outrun it.

Cursing, I darted around several trees, leaving the echoes of the battle behind me. And then the spider caught up to me. There was a sudden blow my ribs, like being hit with a baseball bat, sweeping me away as if I was nothing more than a ragdoll.

I hit the nearest tree with a sickening thump and fell into a heap, cheek pressed to the forest floor. I hurt everywhere and my arms and legs felt like jelly. It was truly a miracle that I'd managed to keep ahold of my sword.

The spiders' clicking and hissing came closer and I lifted my head just in time to see a spider extending its fangs. On instinct, just like in the cavern below the goblin tunnels, I swung my sword and made satisfying contact with its head. The spider pulled back hissing and squealing while the fourth spider moved in to finish the job.

I pushed to my feet and just as the spider opened its mouth to unveil its fangs I took my opening and lunged. The blade of my sword buried into the spider's face all the way to the hilt. I could feel the spider's fangs frantically extending and retracting as it tried to get a grip on me but it was no use. It was dying.

I pulled out my sword with a lurch, my arms screaming in pain. I turned to find the fifth spider already moving towards me, pushing past its still-squealing brethren to reach me and I knew I was done for. I couldn't win this.

But Thorin could. Between one blink and the next he was there, lunging at the fifth spider, and cutting Orcrist deep into its side. With the fifth spider debilitated, Thorin made short work of spider number three, sliding Orcrist through its head like it was butter. He turned, making a final arc with his sword to cut clean through the fifth spider's face, killing it.

I wheezed, collapsing against the tree trunk. I couldn't believe it. What a badass.

Thorin approached, looking not even the least bit winded, which was infuriating, eyes roaming over me critically.

"Are you hurt?" Thorin demanded, though he didn't sound angry, just concerned.

I shook my head, not trusting my voice. The adrenaline crash mixed with the aftereffects of my ring was enough to make me want to lie down and never wake up.

Thorin seemed to accept my answer with an absent nod, looking like he was no hurry to be anywhere. The others must've had the spiders well under control. His eyes fell from my face to my little sword that I was still gripping tightly.

"Your blade has proven itself worthy of a name," Thorin said, sounding amused against all odds, "What of Sting?"

Sting.

Well, it certainly wasn't awful. I could work with that.

"Sting," I repeated with a half-smile, sheathing my newly named sword carefully. Thorin looked extremely pleased that I'd accepted his suggestion. He was almost smiling.

Dwarves. So weird.

I pushed myself to my feet, swaying precariously for a moment before catching my balance. Thorin waited quietly, with more patience than I expected, and once I was sure that I could walk without immediately tipping forward to land on my face we made our way back to the others.

Or, that was what I thought. Not five minutes later, thanks to my slow shuffle, we returned to where the dwarves had been held captive and found the entire vicinity empty, save for a couple dozen spider corpses.

I glanced over at Thorin who was already stalking forward, a thunderous frown etched on his face. I followed a few steps behind, trying to stay close. There was no sound coming from the surrounding trees and there wasn't evidence of any of the dwarves at all – it was as if they all put on their own magic rings and vanished.

Thorin approached one of the spider corpses, hand outstretched to grab a firm hold of one of Kili's arrows embedded neatly in the corpse's eye. Or I thought it was Kili's arrow. Thorin, judging by his darkening expression, didn't seem to think so.

Thorin confirmed whatever suspicions he had because after a moment of examining the arrow he hissed out, "Elves."

Oh, for God's sake.

"Elves?" I asked just to be sure that I'd heard him right. There were elves here now, too? Since when?

Thorin ignored me, letting out an impressive string of dwarven words that I had no doubt were curses. That was all I really had to hear. I rolled my eyes skyward. This was just what I needed.

Now I was stuck in the middle of Mirkwood with no path, no food, twelve kidnapped companions by elves that I was only now hearing about for the first time, and a pissed off dwarf-king who, based on what I had learned so far, had no sense of direction whatsoever.

This could, really, only end one way.

And that was badly.