Smiley and the Demigorgon's Warband

Chapter 11: The Shadows of Mirkwood

Wesley groaned as he regained consciousness, his body aching from the impact of being flung across Middle-earth. His head throbbed as he opened his eyes to find himself entangled in thick, sticky webs. The trees around him were dark and foreboding, their towering forms cloaked in shadow. He was in Mirkwood—a dangerous place where few dared to wander.

Before Wesley could move, a skittering sound caught his ear. His heart raced as he turned his head and saw a massive spider inching toward him, its many eyes gleaming with hunger. Its long, spindly legs clicked against the forest floor as it moved, its fangs dripping with venom.

With a burst of adrenaline, Wesley yanked at the webs, struggling to free himself as the spider drew nearer. His hands found a sharp rock, and he quickly sawed through the sticky strands, the tension of the webs pulling at his arms. Just as the spider lunged at him, Wesley tore himself free and rolled out of its reach. He scrambled to his feet, narrowly dodging the creature's attack.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Wesley grabbed a fallen branch and brandished it like a club. The spider hissed and circled him, but Wesley's instincts kicked in. He swung the branch with all his might, striking the creature's leg. The spider screeched, retreating for a moment, and Wesley took the chance to flee deeper into the forest.

---

Hours later, exhausted and still reeling from his encounter, Wesley stumbled upon a clearing where he saw a woman surrounded by bandits. Her clothes were tattered, but she held herself with an air of quiet power. Her long, dark hair flowed around her shoulders, and though her hands were bound, she remained defiant.

The bandits sneered, taunting her as they prepared to haul her away.

Wesley couldn't stand by and watch. Summoning the courage he didn't know he had, he picked up a few rocks and hurled them at the bandits, catching them off guard. "Hey, leave her alone!"

The bandits turned, surprise flashing across their faces. Wesley charged forward, using the element of surprise to his advantage. He swung his makeshift club, knocking one of the bandits off his feet. The others, momentarily distracted, struggled to react. Wesley fought with a desperation he hadn't felt before, knowing that it was his only chance to save both himself and the woman.

In the chaos, the woman took her opportunity to kick one of the bandits in the chest, sending him sprawling. Wesley managed to overpower the last one, knocking him unconscious with a well-placed blow to the head.

Breathing heavily, Wesley rushed over to the woman and cut the ropes binding her wrists. "Are you alright?" he asked, still catching his breath.

The woman smiled, her eyes gleaming with gratitude and something else—something far more mysterious. "I am now. Thank you." She paused, studying Wesley. "You're braver than you look."

Wesley chuckled awkwardly, his face flushing. "Just lucky, I guess."

The woman extended her hand. "I'm Seraphine, a wandering witch of the southern forests."

Wesley hesitated for a moment, then shook her hand. "Wesley. I'm... just a hobbit, really. Well, not just a hobbit. I've been on a bit of an adventure."

---

That night, as they made camp, Seraphine offered Wesley her thanks in a way he hadn't expected. After sharing stories by the fire and revealing bits of their respective journeys, there was a growing connection between them. The air around them seemed to hum with energy, both magical and physical.

Seraphine's gaze lingered on Wesley as the fire crackled between them. "You saved my life today, Wesley," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of something deeper.

Wesley, still awkward but no longer nervous, met her gaze. "I think you could've handled it yourself. But I'm glad I could help."

Seraphine smiled and moved closer to him, her fingers brushing lightly against his arm. "I can offer you something more than just thanks, Wesley. There's power in magic, but there's also power in connection."

As the night deepened, they came together under the stars, sharing an intimate moment that felt both natural and fateful. It was a night that Wesley would never forget.

---

The next morning, as they prepared to part ways, Seraphine gifted Wesley more than just memories. She led him to her small, hidden sanctuary, where shelves were lined with various herbs, potions, and magical ingredients. She taught him how to craft stronger potions and set more effective traps, showing him secrets that few outside of her magical circle knew.

"You've got potential," Seraphine said as she handed Wesley a small leather-bound book filled with potion recipes and enchantments. "Use this knowledge wisely. You never know when it might save your life."

Wesley nodded, tucking the book into his pack. "Thank you, Seraphine. I'll make sure to put it to good use."

Before he left, Seraphine kissed him on the cheek, her fingers brushing his jaw. "Good luck on your journey, Wesley. The road ahead will be dangerous, but you have the strength to face it."

Wesley smiled, feeling a sense of confidence he hadn't had before. With Seraphine's teachings and the newfound skills he had acquired, he knew he was better prepared for the challenges ahead.

As he set off toward Mirkwood once again, Wesley felt a renewed sense of purpose. Smiley and DG were out there somewhere, and he would find them. But first, he had to survive the dangers of Middle-earth—and now, he was ready.