Aeonian [Legolas]

18

"This is not the Greenwood of Old. The very air of forest is heavy with illusion. It'll seek to enter your mind and lead you astray." Gandalf said, squinting as he looked before at the company against the rain that had started to fall. 

Beorn had provided them with horses and ponies, as well as enough supplies to get them to where they were now: the treeline of perhaps one of the most dangerous forests in Middle Earth. 

"You must stay on the path. Do not leave it. If you do. You'll never find it again." The Wizard's words were somber and instructional but along with the edge of nervousness shared between the company, there was also resentment. Gandalf was leaving them again, and as he mounted his horse before them all and bade them farewells in a gruesome manner, they all fought to remain hopeful.

"Keep them safe. You know this place, Viridis. Their lives now rest in your hands." Gandalf said, leaning down and lowering his voice so as to speak privately with the Elf. Viridis nodded, eyes fire against Gandalf's and then the Wizard straightened, adjusting the reins of his horse, and abandoned them all.

"Come on. We must reach the mountain before the sun sets on Durin's day." Thorin instructed, turning his back on the open sky and stepping into the dark entrance of Mirkwood. "It's our one chance to find the hidden door." He took to the front, stepping at first wearily onto the first slab of path before taking another and mother, each more set with determination.

The rest of the company followed without complaint.

Viridis took up the tail end, height offering him the same view as Thorin at the front. His eyes were narrowed, jaw set, and gaze never once wavering. He was resolute as they traded warm sun for something more trepidatious, the only light rays reaching them now coming first through the stubborn canopy of thick leaves and branches that they themselves didn't seem normal. If anything, the whole place seemed sick. It was beautiful- something about its misery was poetic.

"Eyes ahead." Viridis said, pulling his gaze away from the canopy. "Don't let the beauty distract you. This forest is sick. And it's contagious."

"Only you could find something like his beautiful, Master Aiwyn." Bofur grunted, gazing around distrustfully.

"Don't waver from the path." Thorin asserted, drawing their conversation away from meaningless talk to something more important.

The path they were following was distinct but just dim enough that it could easily blend into its surroundings when given the chance. Viridis had seen it before. Several times he remembered being tasked with coming in, bow and arrow at the ready, tasked with dealing with whatever living remnants of the Dol Guldur forces that the forest hadn't managed to dissuade from the land of the living entirely.

"After approximately 520 paces we stop and gather ourselves. I want to know everyone is sound of mind before we trudge any further." Viridis voiced and though not the leader, he was their protector and not even Thorin disagreed, he just nodded and began counting though the paces was arbitrary, Viridis just needed the company to focus on something other than the distractions if they wanted to make it out of here alive.

On they went, further and further down until even the stubborn sun rays had to fight twice as hard just to be seen and the ones that managed to shine threw offered little consolidation of reassurance. The air became thicker and quickly, Viridis noted the shift in the company as they began to grow more agitated, playing with the collars of their garments and looking around wildly as if a Woodland Elf were to jump out at them at any moment and sever their heads clean off with a single hit.

Even Viridis noted the uneven thrum of blood through his veins. Every morsel of his body knew he needed to remain the voice of reason but nature's law was a hard thing to disobey. Still, he seemed to be the only one less exposed to the unpredictable persuasion of the forest.