The Shire's Deadly Flower

Edge of the Forest

The sky seemed to get cloudier and darker the farther we rode. The  the only noise that we heard for the next few hours, aside from the wind, was the occasional snort of a pony. The wind tossed every fear and unanswered question from person to person until a blanket of uncertainty lay thick and heavy on us. It was nearly suffocating.

We stopped and dismounted near a stone gate. Much of it was overgrown with vines and weeds. A great number of those vines and weeds were dead or dying. No one had been out here to tend to the gate in a long time. Usually entrances to elven kingdoms were much grander. At the very least they were well maintained. I frowned and narrowed my eyes, studying the gate in front of me.

Gandalf's full-sized horse parted the sea of ponies behind Thorin. I went on a little ahead of the group. I gently took the reins from Thorin and guided our pony towards Gandalf.

"Are we being followed? Have the orcs found us yet?" I asked.

Gandalf's frown relaxed for a moment, "No, I cannot sense them near."

"What of the forest? Will they follow us there, Gandalf?" Thorin's question came out more as a statement.

"No," Gandalf shook his head, "I should think not. Although anything is possible."

I nodded and allowed Thorin to take the reins from me again. King Thranduil didn't seem the type to skimp on defending his kingdom. Quite the opposite, in fact. I only hoped Thorin wouldn't say something and get himself thrown in prison before we acquired a blanket or hot meal, let alone weapons or aid for the remainder of our journey. He had barely survived being Elrond's house guest.

The entire train suddenly halted and the whispers finally started back up again. We were at the edge of Mirkwood now. No longer was it the vibrant, beautiful Greenwood of ages past. There were practically no leaves to speak of on the trees. They almost looked as if they were made of bone. Pale, wooden fingers scraped at the gray clouds. Thorin helped me dismount and I quickly made my way to Gandalf.

"The Elven Gate." Gandalf stated matter-of-factually as he turned from The Company towards our path forward.

I let out a breath of relief, "Here lies our path through another elf kingdom of old."

The Company dismounted in waves and began removing their things from their ponies. Dori herded most of The Company into a small group. Only after securing that the clay tea set that he had somehow managed to convince Beorn to give him, of course. Fili and Kili, ever the bright sparks in the journey, were sharing quiet jokes and paying no attention to the frowns on the faces of others around them. Dwalin secured most of his weapons to himself and gave his pony a pat.

"No sign of the Orcs. We have luck on our side!" Dwalin gripped his ax tightly as he spoke.

"Set the ponies loose. Let them return to their master." I followed Gandalf's line of sight and spied Beorn in his bear form on a cliff in the distance.

Thorin tapped me on the shoulder and helped me into my coat. I gave him a kiss on the cheek in thanks. I weaved my way through the crowd towards my brother, who was standing a little away from everyone else. Bilbo looked as perturbed as I felt.

"This forest feels sick, as if a disease lies upon it. Is there no way around?" Bilbo's eyebrows furrowed and he tilted his head.

Gandalf shook his head apologetically, "Not unless we go two hundred miles north."

"Or twice that distance south, Bilbo." I said with a sigh.

Bilbo turned and nodded to his pony in solemn farewell. I must admit, watching him adjusting to riding ponies was one of my favorite parts of the whole journey. Before this, he utterly refused to do anything of the sort when we went on holidays. I almost told him I was proud of him, but Thorin lay a hand on my shoulder.