I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of the characters.

Mirkwood

Ranir leapt from a rock, spinning in the air, and loosed an arrow, hitting one of the wargs in the head. No sooner had the sun slipped below the horizon did the howls of wargs signal their next crisis. A half-dozen riderless wargs were now trying to run them down, but with that warg, Rhanir had managed to kill three. And a moment later, he stopped, his bow hanging around his neck as he held his shortswords out to his sides, his head bowed. Less than a second after he'd stopped, a pair of wargs passed him, his blades shearing their sides open as one of them swiped at his head, its claws missing him but its paw grazing his head enough to knock him off balance. He transitioned his fall into a sprint, sheathing his blades again as he pulled the bow from around his neck, knocking another arrow as a fresh pack of wargs rushed to join the last surviving member of the first set. The first landed before them, then turned and rushed at Bilbo, only to accidentally impale its head on Bilbo's blade. Another leapt at Thorin, only for him to slash off a paw, then plunge his sword into it once it had tumbled to a stop. Two charged after Dwalin, only for Rhanir to put a pair of arrows into their heads, killing them as another chasing Nori, a ginger dwarf whose hair was always a mess and stuck out to the sides, received a blow to the head from Nori's hammer as he swung it backward over his head. Rhanir sent an arrow into its brain as well as it lay stunned, but then realized they had reached the end of their road. The slope they'd been fleeing down ended abruptly in a cliff, a tree on its precipice leaning precariously out over the edge.

"Up into the trees!" Gandalf ordered. "Quickly, all of you!"

The dwarves began to climb, helping each other where needed, and Gandalf did the same, but Rhanir waited, sending arrow after arrow up the slope into the swarm of dozens of wargs charging them. Beside him, Bilbo was struggling to free his blade from the warg's skull.

"Put your foot beside it and push with your leg!" Rhanir said urgently.

Bilbo complied, and his blade tore free. Then, Rhanir grabbed him and turned, sprinting at the nearest tree and running several steps upward before catching a branch. He swung Bilbo up onto it, then swung himself to another branch, both quickly beginning to scramble upward as the wargs swarmed below them. Rhanir steadied himself on a branch high in his tree and reached back for an arrow, only to find none. He swore, slinging his bow.

"I'm out of arrows!" Rhanir reported.

"I have some!" Kili reported.

"Toss me one!" Rhanir called back.

Kili complied, but Rhanir shook his head.

"They're too short for my bow!" He called back, dropping the arrow carefully.

It stabbed down into a warg's mouth just as it was snarling up at him and it shrieked in pain, then shook its head, wiggling the arrow loose and casting it aside before returning to snarling up at Rhanir. Finally, several of the wargs stopped, turning away from them as a single, massive, white warg rode up onto a rock, a pale, scarred orc riding on its back. In one hand was a massive, spiked mace, and the other arm was missing partway down the forearm but had been replaced with a grisly, metal, claw-like object with curved spikes of metal extending in a mess of points from a single, thick shaft, which had been driven into his amputated arm and which protruded from his elbow in a spike. The pale orc was massive, tall even for a Man, and built more powerfully than any dwarf. His bare chest bore the same seemingly decorative scars as marked his face, and he exuded a horrifying authority and confidence.

"Azog!" Thorin snarled.

The orc began to converse with a dozen behind him using Orcish. He made eye contact with Thorin, clearly taunting him, then pointed his mace at him for a moment before swinging it over his head, signaling the wargs and the other orcs to attack, but very clearly stating that Thorin was his to deal with. The wargs began to struggle to climb the trees, and the dwarves all shouted in surprise and fear. As they did, their weight slamming into the trees over and over began to shake the trees, making them tremble and sway unsettlingly. Then, just as one warg managed to catch itself on a branch of the tree, only to have Rhanir slash its face for its effort, the tree began to break free of the ground, tipping sideways. Rhanir cursed, sheathing his blade and leaping to the next tree, then to the next as that, too, began to fall. However, the two toppling trees slammed into the third, as well, and it also pitched sideways, as did the tree beyond it, and then the tree beyond that. Finally, all of the dwarves, Bilbo, and Rhanir had been forced to gather in the last tree at the edge of the cliff, where Gandalf had been, and the wargs gathered below them, snarling and snapping, leaping up the tree in an effort to reach them.

Then, Gandalf began to ignite pinecones, casting them down at the wargs, forcing them back. He began to ignite more, passing them along to the rest of them to throw as well. The fires quickly spread to the ground, the blaze forcing the Wargs away from them. One warg fled, its flank aflame, another was hit in the head as it was turning to flee, and its paw missed the edge of the cliff, the warg bouncing over the edge and screaming as it fell to its death. But then, a side effect of heating the ground around the tree made itself known. The ground lost its hold on the tree, and it swung outward, into the open air. The roots caught, holding it almost straight out like a spear, but several of the dwarves had fallen, and those remaining were only barely able to catch them and hold them up. And then, Thorin was leaving, walking along the tree with his sword in his right hand and a chunk of an oak tree's branch in his left, like a shield. Rhanir had heard the tale of Thorin defeating Azog, using a chunk of oak tree in place of his ruined shield, earning him the title Oakenshield, but he had hoped that Thorin wasn't foolish enough to believe that he could do it a second time. Apparently, he was wrong. However, he also was in no position to help. He was helping Gandalf pull up Nori and Dori, who had fallen from the tree but caught Gandalf's staff, Nori hanging from Dori's foot. Rhanir growled in effort pulling up on Dori's shoulder, his other hand holding Dwalin's, but the two dwarves were heavier than they looked. Rhanir looked over at Thorin and Azog again as Azog's warg tackled Thorin to the ground. Thorin rose, but only just in time for Azog's mace to crash into his chest. Rhanir grit his teeth. Thorin couldn't beat Azog. Not astride his warg.

"Dwalin, hold my hair!" Rhanir ordered.

Dwalin switched his grip instantly, and Rhanir drew his curved dagger, then hurled it. It flashed as it sped past the flames, then buried its blade hilt-deep in the warg's neck. It released a high, short shriek, then crashed to the ground, spilling Azog from its back. Azog rose, roaring in fury, but Thorin rose with him, his resolve steeled by the loss of Azog's main advantage. Rhanir, however, could help no further, and grabbed Dwalin's arm, allowing him to hold him by the arm rather than the hair, thankfully before any hair had torn free of his head. He looked back at Nori and Dori, who were beginning to lose their grip on Gandalf's staff, then back to Thorin just as Azog caught Thorin's blade with his prosthetic before slamming his mace into Thorin again, hurling him. This time, however, the mace caught Thorin in the upper torso and the side of the head, so when he landed in a heap at the edge of the cliff, he did not rise again. Rhanir grit his teeth. He'd lost. Thorin was going to die. Azog sent one of the other orcs to bring him Thorin's head, and as the orc lined up the stroke of his blade, Thorin stirred, but he was exhausted and dazed, still. He could barely move his body, much less defend himself. And then, Bilbo tackled the orc, knocking it off and grappling with it for a moment before stabbing it repeatedly, killing it. He wrenched the sword free and stumbled over to stand between Azog and Thorin, and several other orcs still astride wargs formed up behind Azog.

As Azog ordered the orcs forward, Bilbo began to swing his blade in front of himself, meaning to threaten them, but only making it clear that he was no warrior. Then, Ranir finally managed to drag Nori and Dori onto the tree and took off at a sprint, freeing his blades from their sheaths as he did. Several of the other dwarves charged with him and released battle cries before clashing with the orcs and their wargs, trying to beat them back, but Rhanir made no sound. He slipped past a riderless warg and cut its throat before it could utter a sound. He slashed another throat as he stabbed his right sword down into another warg's head. He ripped his remaining dagger from its sheath and sent it spinning into one of the orc riders' heads. As it crashed to the ground, its warg was distracted for a moment, allowing Fili to kill it with his two thick, single-edged blades, during which time Kili retrieved the dagger from the orc's head and Rhanir reached the other two mounted orcs. He stepped between their wargs, his swords in reverse grip, and slashed down and forward in a pair of smooth, lethal arcs that slashed the orcs' sides to the spine, then the sides of the wargs' necks. All four retreated, then collapsed, leaving only Azog and a pair of riderless wargs. Azog was bearing down on Bilbo and Thorin, but as Rhanir calmly stepped between them, aiming one of his swords at Azog, Azog stopped, narrowing his eyes and snarling in rage.

"Azog the Defiler," Rhanir spoke calmly. "I've heard of you. You led legions against the dwarves at the Battle of Moria. How far you have fallen."

Azog chuckled, speaking in Orcish, only for Rhanir to stare at him evenly.

"If you refuse to speak in a language I understand, then you have nothing worth saying, which makes you worthless," Rhanir reasoned. "Die."

However, before he could move to engage Azog, a giant eagle suddenly swept down, grabbing one of the wargs behind Azog, hurling it from the cliff. Azog's head snapped up, his face mutinous, but before he could do anything, more eagles arrived. In an instant, another eagle had knocked down a tree on the other warg, pinning it for a moment before a third grabbed it and cast it, too, from the cliff. Gandalf leapt from the tree, landing on an eagle's back, and it turned, speeding away from the cliff, another holding Nori and Dori on its back. One of the eagles dove for Azog, but he dove low to the ground, only narrowly evading its talons. Rhanir jumped, catching the eagle by the leg, and it made no move to dislodge him. More and more eagles passed over the cliff, quickly gathering the rest of the dwarves and Bilbo, as Rhanir carefully and quickly climbed atop his eagle's back. Then, the eagle turned, joining the rest of the eagles, all dwarves, wizards, and hobbits accounted for.

Rhanir stared at the mouth of the road into Mirkwood. The Elven Gate announcing the beginning of the Woodland Elves' territory and path through Mirkwood. He swallowed hard. He could deal with orcs. He could deal with wargs. With Trolls. With whatever fell creature was set against them. When they had been forced to outrun a skin-changer who transformed into a giant, deadly, violent bear, only to take shelter in the same skin-changer's house, he didn't complain. And as a result, the skin-changer had given them breakfast, telling them about Azog slaughtering most of his kind, imprisoning and torturing others until only he remained. Then, he had given them horses to speed them on their way. He hadn't been pleased about a lot of it, but he hadn't complained once. But this, he couldn't stay silent about. This was unacceptable. This was treason. A death sentence.

"Gandalf, I can't go in there," Rhanir said seriously.

"Nonsense," Gandalf said dismissively. "This is the safest road through Mirkwood."

Rhanir switched to Quenya. "Mithrandir, I am Banished."

Gandalf froze, turning slowly to stare at him, then turning back to the front. "Set the ponies loose. Let them return to their master."

"Gandalf..." Rhanir trailed off.

"You will be safe," Gandalf promised in Quenya. "I will not allow them to punish you."

"What are you two saying?" Thorin asked.

"I was banished from my home," Rhanir reminded him. "When an elf is banished from one Elven Realm is barred from entering any other by choice, only by summons. Lord Elrond has extended me a standing summons, giving me the freedom to enter Rivendell, if I want, but here..." He shook his head slightly. "A banished elf entering an Elven Realm without a summons is treason. Its punishment is death. And the ruler here..."

The dwarves fell silent, all of them shifting uncomfortably.

"I will not force you to go," Gandalf finally said.

Rhanir sighed, shaking his head. "I accepted this job. I have to see it through. If this is the only way we can go through, then I'll go."

Gandalf nodded.

"Is there no way around?" Bilbo asked, looking at the forest hesitantly.

"Not unless we go two hundred miles north," Gandalf informed him. "Or twice that distance...south."

Rhanir watched as Gandalf made his way into the small stone circle marking the beginning of the path, surrounded by stone trees and statues of elves. Rhanir stared down at the stone for several long seconds, then took a slow, deep breath and stepped forward, passing into a realm that was forever forbidden to him. He walked over to Gandalf, stiff and tense as though expecting to be shot full of arrows at any moment, then stopped at the wizard's side as Gandalf pulled the ivy from a statue, exposing a red marking shaped like an eye.

"The High Fells," Gandalf muttered, nodding to himself. "So be it."

"The enemy's mark," Rhanir commented, staring into the forest. "This place is cursed."

"We don't have a choice," Gandalf said darkly. "Elrond told you why this quest is of such importance?"

"He did," Rhanir nodded. "You have to leave, don't you?"

"I do," Gandalf nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Go," Rhanir said. "I will lead them along the path."

"Are you sure?" Gandalf asked.

Rhanir sighed. "It's as you said. We don't have a choice."

"Not my horse!" Gandalf called out as all of the other horses fled Mirkwood. "I need it!"

"You're not leaving us?" Bilbo asked.

"I would not do this unless I had to," Gandalf said seriously.

"You know this path?" Balin checked quietly, stepping up beside Rhanir.

"I do," Rhanir nodded. "I passed through Mirkwood many times before I was banished, back when it was known as the Greenwood. I can guide you all through. But Mirkwood is not as it once was. Death lies upon it. We will not be safe at any point, and not just from elves."

Balin nodded as it began to rain. Rhanir's hands curled into fists, and he reached for his curved dagger, only to remember he'd left it in Azog's warg.

"Rhanir can guide you along the road," Gandalf said, now sitting astride his horse. "Rhanir, the Mirkwood is thick with illusion. It will seek to enter your mind and lead you astray. You must not leave the path. If you do, you'll never find it again. No matter what comes, stay on the path!" And with that, he rode away.

"Come on," Thorin said. "We must reach the mountain before the sun sets on Durin's Day. Lead on, elf."

"Do not rush into this place," Rhanir warned. "Kili, do you have my dagger?"

"Oh, yes!" Kili said, holding out his double-edged dagger.

"Thank you," Rhanir nodded, holding it in his left hand in reverse grip, and drew his right shortsword in standard grip. "Follow me, be silent, and do not fall behind. If you start to fall behind, warn us. That, or if something attacks, are the only reason you should make noise."

The dwarves nodded seriously, readying their weapons. They made their way into the trees singlefile, Rhanir at the head, then Thorin, then Balin, then Bilbo. Beyond him, Rhanir didn't have it in him to keep track, because in addition to following the road, he was listening for any danger, his eyes searching the trees carefully for any sign of the Woodland Elves. They followed Rhanir in silence, and he'd instructed. His obvious fear and tense posture set them all on edge, but as the path wound and wove through the trees, no one said a word. The dwarves were careful to tread as lightly as they could. The further they walked, the darker the world became. The bark of the trees turned black, the forest floor was as dark as night, and an air of dread hung thickly around them. And the path was not a journey of hours. It was a journey of days. More than a week. The first night, Rhanir instructed them to use their weapons to keep them on the path. He explained to them that the path was as much a protective enchantment as it was a physical road. If they left the path, the evil power permeating Mirkwood would take hold of them. So long as they remained on the path, they were safe. And so, at night, they used their weapons to keep themselves on the path as they slept by stabbing them into the edges of the path and lying between them. And so, the days passed slowly. They would walk along the path. They would sleep on the path. The path became their entire world. And it was small. So very small. Anxiety began to swell inside each of them, claustrophobia rapidly gripping their hearts. Finally, however, on the eighth day, Rhanir stopped as the dwarves behind him began to yell for the first time since they entered.

"Air! I need air!"

"My head! It's swimming! What's happening!?"

"Keep moving!" Thorin ordered, then walked forward to stand beside Rhanir. "Elf, why have we stopped?"

"Because the path is gone," Rhanir said darkly, turning to the others. "Everyone stop moving!"

They all froze.

"Sit down," he instructed, and they did. "Breathe. Close your eyes, picture a wide, grassy field. Flowers around. Now breathe."

Except for Thorin, Balin, and Rhanir, everyone else complied. Balin carefully moved forward to join Thorin and Rhanir, both dwarves being careful to stay on the path.

"Why have we stopped?" Balin asked quietly, eyeing the path ahead.

"Look at them," Rhanir muttered, Thorin and Balin both turning to look. "You two are soldiers. You're more resilient, but they're breaking. This place is curse. The light cannot reach us, the air is dead, and the world around us is more unsafe than the Goblin Tunnels. They can't go on like this. They need to calm down. So do the both of you. I'll try to help, but it can only do so much."

Thorin and Balin nodded, both of them kneeling. Rhanir repeated his instructions, then again a few minutes later. Slowly, the stress began to drain out of them. Eventually, he had them all open their eyes, and watched as the stress began to return. However, it was smaller, now. Muted by their brief mental escape. They stood, nodding their readiness to continue, and Rhanir turned, continuing along the path. That night, however, was different. As with every night, they used their weapons to keep themselves on the path, but for the first time, they weren't alone. Red and blue and green eyes appeared around them as Rhanir kept watch, only to fade into the darkness once more. But they weren't the worst. They were just animals, probably. But the worst were the pale eyes. Insect eyes. They stared down at them from above, where Rhanir, and Rhanir alone, had noticed the webs. They couldn't reach them on the path. The path's protection extended a couple of yards above them, so the threat above them was forced to remain above. However, one by one, Rhanir woke the others, holding a hand over their mouths. He leaned down, whispering the one word warning into their ears. Spiders. Spiders with eyes the size of a fist. Bigger sometimes.

No one went back to sleep that night, but as the sun rose, Rhanir explained to them the specific dimensions of the path, and what he had learned of the specifics of the path's protection. Knowing what was going on seemed to give them some peace, enough for them to sleep the following night, but they kept a watch along with Rhanir, who took the opportunity to sleep, getting rest he'd denied himself. And two days later, they reached the next issue. As anxiety and claustrophobia were beginning to creep up again, they reached a river. In the gloom of the forest, even somewhere around midday, the water looked black as orc blood, and it was flowing fast and strong past them. Once there had been a bridge to pass over it, but the bridge had rotted away and collapsed.

"Now what?" Thorin asked. "Do we wade? Swim?"

Rhanir extended a hand, sensing for the path's magic, then shook his head. "The protection would break in the water. But there's a boat ahead."

"How far?" Thorin asked.

"It doesn't look far," Bilbo said, peering into the darkness carefully. "Maybe twelve yards."

"Then it might as well be a mile," Thorin growled. "We can't jump twelve yards."

"We don't need to," Rhanir said. "It's not tied off. Have Kili pass me up his bow, arrows, and some rope."

After a moment, the items he'd requested reached him, and he quickly tied the rope to an arrow, drew back Kili's bow, and loosed it. With a muffled thud, the arrow stuck into the boat, and Thorin helped Rhanir tow the boat to them from the other shore. Rhanir passed the rope off to one of the others, then tied another rope to another arrow, sending it into a tree beside the path on the right, then cut the end, tying it off to a tree beside him, then another on the opposite side of the path. Finally, the ropes were set.

"We'll cross in groups," Rhanir explained. "Use the ropes to move across, since there are no oars, and to keep yourself aligned with the path. Once you're across and out, we'll tow the boat back again, and the next group will go. Sets of four. Dwalin, Bombur, and I will go last."

"Why do I have to go last?" Bombur asked.

"Because you take up two seats and weigh three dwarves' weight," Rhanir said flatly. "Let's go. We need to keep moving."

The others nodded, and they all began to cross in groups of four. Finally, Rhanir's group began to cross. As they did, a deer charged out of the darkness at them. Everyone hit the ground in surprise, except for two people. Rhanir shot the deer, killing it as it leapt to cross the river. It crashed down in the water, was swept out of sight, and then there was another splash before everything went silent. The other person not to hit the ground was Bombur, who had been only halfway out of the boat before he had almost lost his balance, causing the boat to drift off. And then, he crashed down into the water. In an instant, Rhanir had grabbed Dwalin's axe, holding it just below the head and shoving the shaft into Bombur's hand, which was extending up from the water. He grabbed the shaft, and with help, Rhanir dragged him ashore. But the protection of the Elven Path had failed already. Bombur was sleeping, a smile on his face, and light snores rolling out of his mouth.

"Bombur!" Thorin gasped, running over. "Bombur! Wake up!"

"He can't," Rhanir said, holding a hand to Bombur's forehead. "He's been enchanted. He'll wake if we can leave Mirkwood."

"So we'll have to carry him," Thorin grumbled, then sighed. "So be it. We'll take it in turns, four of us at a time. Everyone except for Rhanir and Bilbo."

"Why not the elf?" Nori asked.

"Because the elf is our guide," Balin reasoned. "And Bilbo isn't strong enough. Now, let's get this done."

Everyone nodded, and Thorin and three others gathered together to carry Bombur. And so, they continued. But now, things had gotten worse. With the added obstacle of carrying Bombur, everyone was hungrier, and thirstier, and yet their food and water stores were dwindling by the day. Even Rhanir's supplies were running dangerously low. And still they continued on. They reached a section that was almost all beech trees, but even Rhanir's announcement that they were nearing the eastern edge did very little to help their rapidly sinking moods. And then, inevitability struck. They woke up one morning, and all of their food was gone. The last scraps of food were handed out and eaten, leaving all of them still starving.

"How much further?" Thorin asked.

"I'm not sure exactly," Rhanir shook his head. "Maybe a few hours. Maybe a few days. This forest has changed."

The dwarves all sighed, looking around.

"Could someone climb up and check?" Ori asked.

"He'd leave the protection of the path," Rhanir reminded him.

"Yes, but if he was quick..." Nori offered, eyes flicking at Bilbo.

"We're not sacrificing anyone," Thorin refused.

Rhanir looked around, then sat down, closing his eyes and focusing. He needed to think of a way out of the situation. A day earlier, Kili had managed to shoot a squirrel so that it landed on the path, but its meat was putrid, and smelled of rot. The deer they had seen was long gone, and had been before Rhanir shot it. They could be days from the exit. Which would put them near the heart of the Woodland Elves' realm.

"Bilbo!" Balin shouted suddenly.

Rhanir's head snapped up, watching as Bilbo dragged himself up a tree. He was already outside of the protection of the path, but still he kept climbing. Within seconds, he disappeared into the foliage. Rhanir grit his teeth, drawing his swords once again. The others all looked to him and tensed, readying their own weapons.

"What's happening?" Dori asked, looking around worriedly.

Even among the dwarves who were not warriors, Rhanir could tell that they all sensed it. Something was coming.

"We are being watched," Thorin warned darkly.

"We're safe on the path, aren't we?" Ori asked.

Rhanir looked around, then swallowed hard. "No. Twice now, someone has left the path, once by accident and once intentionally. The path's protection is failing."

"Help!" Bilbo's voice shouted off to their right. "Help!"

"Bilbo!" Thorin shouted, the whole company, one and all, dwarf and elf, sprinting into the trees to rescue their smallest and kindest companion.

However, after barely ten steps, the shouting stopped. They slowed to a stop, continuing to call out to him for a moment before Rhanir turned, lookin back. The path was gone.

"What's happened?" Balin asked. "Where is he?"

"Not here," Rhanir said, entire body tense. "He never was. It was a trick. The forest has won."

The dwarves all looked around, then turned to head back to the path. Except, as soon as they had turned, the ground below Fili, a blanket of leaves, suddenly moved. Fili crashed to the ground, dropping his swords as thick, white webs, each strand nearly as thick as Rhanir's finger, coiled around his feet, dragging him deeper into the forest.

"Fili!" Kili shouted, charging after him.

Except, before he could catch him, a spider the size of a horse crashed down on him. Kili rolled, driving his sword into the spider's underside, causing it to recoil, but before he could free his sword from it, another dropped down behind him, wrapping its legs around him and ascending back into the trees with him. And suddenly, spiders were coming down all around them. Thorin slashed one as Balin stabbed another. Another leapt onto Balin, but Thorin slashed it, as well. One leapt at Thorin from behind, but Balin shoved him aside, being captured in his place and dragged into the trees. A net of spiderwebs burst from the ground under Dwalin, yanking him into the trees. Quickly, more and more of them were bound and dragged away until it was only Thorin and Rhanir left. A spider launched itself at them, but Rhanir ordered Thorin to duck, then lunged forward, using one sword to remove the legs on one side as the other split the spider's underside open. Thorin instantly swore at him for bathing him in the spider's intestines, but it did nothing to stop Thorin from reacting when another spider attacked from Thorin's left. Thorin slashed off a pair of legs as they swiped at him, then stabbed down into the spider's head. Rhanir leapt into the air as a pair of spiders dropped, stepping off of one as he slashed its abdomen off, then stabbed both blades into the other's body, crashing to the ground on top of it.

He ripped his blades out and hurled one, sending it into another spider's face as it charged Thorin, who was killing another spider with a pair of slashes. Rhanir chased his sword, ripping it free in time to spin, slashing off a pair of legs with one blade, then slashing the spider across the face with the other before finishing the spider with a swift thrust to the abdomen, where the spider's heart and blood vessels were. But there were so many spiders. No matter how hard they fought, there were simply too many spiders, and soon, Thorin had also been captured. Rhanir grit his teeth, struggling to fend off the swarm of spiders on his own. He couldn't flee, or move around. He couldn't risk losing the dwarves. And yet, as more and more spiders began to swarm him, it became harder by the second to remain where he was as he piled up more and more spider corpses. Finally, however, help arrived. Bilbo had returned, and was freeing the dwarves.

Rhanir refocused his efforts, and a moment later, Thorin had rejoined him, sword in hand. And then Kili, then Fili, wielding a pair of daggers. The Balin and Dwalin. Then Gloin and Oin, and Nori, Dori, and Ori. Then Bifur and Bofur. And finally, Bombur crashed down atop a spider, crushing it before forcing himself up just as a spider crashed down off to the side with Bilbo wrapped in its legs, though it was dead. Bilbo scrambled up, slipping something into his pocket before ripping his miniscule sword from the spider's underside. However, Rhanir didn't have time to worry about him, because more spiders were arriving.

And then, the worst-case scenario came to pass. An elf landed on one, his long, golden hair blowing about his head, driving an arrow down into it with his hand, then waited until it crashed to the ground before leaping forward, transferring his momentum into a slide, drawing a sword to split another's underside open. Then, he slid to his feet, smoothly returning his sword to its sheath as he nocked an arrow in his bow and leveled it at Thorin's face. At the same time, a dozen more elves emerged from the trees around them, each sending an arrow into a spider before aiming another at the dwarves. Rhanir grit his teeth as still more arrived.

"Do not think I won't kill you, dwarf," the blond elf warned. "It would be my pleasure."

"Legolas, son of Thranduil," Rhanir identified him.

"Do not speak to me," Legolas snapped in Sindarin. "You know the price of coming into our realm."

"Help!" Kili shouted suddenly.

Rhanir spun, only to see a beautiful, red-haired elf land on one of the three spiders surrounding Kili and shoot another with an arrow. Then, she leapt off, drawing a dagger and finishing the wounded spider before turning and just as easily killing the spider she'd landed on. She turned, shooting an arrow into one that had grabbed Kili by the foot, then turned to one charging her from behind, slashing it rapidly.

"Throw me a dagger!" Kili pleaded, as yet another closed in on him. "Quick!"

"If you think I'm giving you a weapon, dwarf, you're mistaken!" the elf informed him, turning and transitioning her final slash on one into a throw, killing the other.

Then, Rhanir hurled one of his swords, the blade plunging into a spider as it dropped at her from above, killing it and knocking its carcass away from her.

"Search them!" Legolas ordered.

Rhanir drove his remaining sword into the ground, then drew his dagger, offering it to Legolas. Legolas let the tension out of his bow, taking the dagger, and Rhanir removed the sheaths for it and his swords, handing them to Legolas as well, then raised his hands, allowing the elves around him to take his bow.

"Where did you get these?" Legolas asked in Sindarin, inspecting the weapons as the ginger elf brought Kili and Rhanir's other sword over. "These weapons are ancient relics."

"A group of human thieves that I was hired to deal with had them," Rhanir answered, also speaking in Sindarin.

"I thank you for returning them to true elves," Legolas said. "At least you were worth that much." He turned, beginning to search Gloin, finding a metal case with two portraits inside.

"Give it back!" Gloin snapped. "That's private!"

"Who is this?" Legolas asked. "Your brother?"

"That is my wife!" Gloin snapped.

"And what is this horrid creature?" Legolas asked, looking to the second portrait. "A goblin mutant?"

"That's my wee lad, Gimli," Gloin informed him.

"Are the spiders dead?" Legolas asked the red-head in Sindarin, passing her Rhanir's weapons.

"Yes, but more will come," she replied, receiving a confused look. "They're growing bolder."

Just then, an elf brought Legolas Thorin's sword, Legolas staring at it in recognition, taking it from the elf gently.

"This is an ancient Elvish blade," Legolas commented in Sindarin. "Forged by my kin."

"Orcrist," Rhanir identified it.

"Where did you get this?" Legolas asked.

"It was given to me," Thorin lied.

Legolas held the blade at Thorin's throat. "Not just a thief, but a liar as well."

He swung the sword down to his side, shouting for them to be led to his father. Rhanir sighed, allowing the red-haired elf to bind his hands. Then, they were led through the trees by the elves, all of whom remained ready to kill them at the first sign of trouble.

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