Homeward Bound Part One: An Unexpected Journey

Chapter Thirty-Two

Bilba hated Mirkwood with a passion bordering on the irrational. In fact it nearly approached the level of hatred Thorin seemed to feel, if the permanent scowl he kept directing at the trees as though they'd personally offended him, was any indication.

The path was narrow, the trees crowding in on both sides. They were nothing like the trees in the Shire, which were straight and strong with dark brown bark and emerald green leaves. These trees were twisted and gnarled, hunched as though under some great weight. The branches overhead were a tangled mass, blocking out the sun, and they had a dull gray bark and leaves the color of old blood.

They were sick, very sick and held such an aura that Bilba half expected them to come to life at any moment and devour her and the Company where they stood.

She would have to consider adding trees to her list of things in Middle Earth that wanted to eat them. She could rename the list – Things in Middle Earth that Absolutely Want to Eat You and Things that Most Likely Will if You're Dumb Enough to Turn Your Back.

The path they walked was little better. Beorn had mentioned it being the main road through Mirkwood but, if it was, she couldn't imagine the last time any maintenance had been done on it. The stones it was comprised of were loose and outright missing at some points. In numerous spots they were pushed up, creating sharp, jagged corners for her to trip or stub a toe on.

It was about the fourth time this happened that Bilba finally lost her temper and proceeded to swear at the offending stone, in three languages, at length.

When she finally stopped and looked up it was to see the entire Company paused and staring at her.

"Don't give me that look," Bilba said in irritation, "it's not like you haven't all been thinking the same thing."

"True," Bofur said amicably, "but perhaps not toward that one stone in particular."

"That's because you're wearing boots," Bilba muttered.

"Bilba," Thorin's deep baritone sounded from the front of the line, "come up here."

Bilba felt her face heat. She moved forward, edging past the others. Beorn had warned them about stepping off the path which meant they were all forced to walk in ridiculously close company to one another.

As she reached Thorin she grumbled, "Whose idea was it to make the path this narrow anyway?"

"I would imagine the pointy eared bastards who live here," Thorin answered mildly. "Trust elves to have obnoxious architecture."

Bilba gave him a dry look. "And I suppose if it were dwarven made it would be a thousand times better?"

"Of course," Thorin said instantly, lifting his chin in pride. "Wait until you see Erebor. There are pathways carved from a solid block of stone, spanning over great chasms that let you see all the way down into the mines."

As he spoke he'd started walking again, pulling her along with him.

"That sounds beautiful," Bilba agreed. "Are there handrails?"

"Why would you need them?" He asked in confusion. "Just don't walk near the edge."

Bilba rolled her eyes. She hooked her hand around his bicep and glared at the stupid forest.

"We need to get out of here," she said in annoyance. "Before something tries to eat us."

"It has been awhile since the last attempt," Thorin responded, "hasn't it?"

"Too long," Bilba agreed. "I'm worried." She frowned. "I wonder what it says when NOT almost getting eaten worries me?"

"Nothing good," Thorin replied.