The Northern Wolves

~Three~

three

The Company set their borrowed horses at a speedy pace, racing across the green meadow until finally they reached the tall, looming forest, arriving at a small alcove that opened up onto a slightly uprooted, stone pathway.

Jon turned his dark coloured eyes to his beloved who narraowed her green eyed gaze at the forest, not at all liking the aura emanating from amongst the trees. Hostility, hate, maleviolence, hunger. It was horrid, and made her feel heavy, weighed down and sick.

Gandalf slid down from his horse, the first to arrive and the first to approach the gateway. He wandered onto the cracked stones and was now studying an even larger stone tablet that was sticking out of the ground.

The rest of the Company eventually joined him. While the dwarves could only sort of sense that something was off with the forest, it still had Hartlyn trembling at the wrongness seeping from the woods.

"The Elven Gate," the Grey Istari then murmered to himself. He then turned to face the dwarves, Bilbo and the Northern King and Queen, raising his voice to be heard by them all, "Here lies our path... through Mirkwood."

"No sign of the orcs. We have luck on our side," Dwalin decalred loudly, as he searched the surroundings behind them, guarding their backs ever since they'd set off from Beorn's home. HIs words had both the Istari and the former Night's Watchman glaring darkly at him, while Harri just rolled her eyes.

The Queen of the Northern Mountains felt her full attention being swayed to a small rocky ledge not very far away from where they were. Atop it stood a massive bear and beside it, a smaller handsome black dog.

And that was all she needed as a spark of joy touched her heart...

"Sirius..." Hartlyn smiled softly to herself as all the memories of a man the ravenette called her godfather in another life, flashed through her mind.

"Set the ponies loose. Let them return to their master," Gandalf instructed, his eyes also on the two animals watching over them.

Thorin and the Company dismounted, while was quick to help down his emerald eyed Lady, which she found amusing.

"This forest feels sick, my love. As if a disease lies upon it," the redhead breathed a heavy sigh into the man's collarbone.

The former Night's Watchman looked over to a still frowning wizard who was studying the tablet, "Is there no way around, Istari?"

Gandalf shook his head as he turned back to face the Northerners with an apologetic expression, "I'm afraid not, Lord Snow. Unless we go two hundred miles north. Or twice that distance, south."

"Hmmm..." The Mistress of Death hummed before she again felt her mind being pulled elsewhere. This time towards a stone statue wrapped in creepers and weeds. The aura radiating from it stronger than the few coming from the trees and similiar to that of the blade the Grey Wizard had revealed to the Council.

The delicate whispers of her good friend from another life and now this one, echoed in her mind, 'Something moves in the shadows unseen...hidden from our sight, Harri. Everyday it grows in strength.'

"I have found so much beauty in the dark, 'Driel, as i have found a lot of horrors in the light," the redhead scoffed to herself, almost rolling her emerald eyes.