The Middle Earth Wonderers (The Hobbit/LOTR)

Chapter 20.

We trudged onward, our hearts heavy with grief as we pushed through the dense woods. Eventually, we stumbled upon a farmhouse owned by a skin-changer. Despite his clear dislike for dwarves, he begrudgingly offered us shelter, primarily because he loathed orcs even more. "Just keep your damn noise down," he grumbled, his eyes darting warily as if expecting trouble at any moment.

After a brief respite, we ventured deeper into Mirkwood. The trees loomed overhead, twisting and intertwining like ancient giants guarding secrets. As we pressed forward, unease settled in my gut. It didn't take long for us to lose our way in the maze of shadows, and an unsettling feeling crept over us.

Suddenly, the crack of branches and the soft rustle of twigs snapped us to attention. My heart raced as I scanned the darkness. "Hunter, try to scout," I urged, my voice barely above a whisper, the tension in the air palpable.

Hunter nodded, his eyes narrowing as he disappeared into the shadows. His movements were fluid, almost ghostlike, blending seamlessly with the forest. We waited, each second stretching into an eternity, anxiety hanging heavy between us.

Hours passed, and the silence grew unbearable. Just when I thought we'd never see him again, Hunter stumbled back, his expression dazed. My breath caught in my throat as I saw the torn sleeve of his tunic, blood staining the fabric beneath. "What the hell happened?" I demanded, rushing to his side.

He tried to speak, but his words came out slurred and incomprehensible. Panic surged through the group as we caught sight of the venomous spider bite on his arm. "Shit," I hissed, my heart pounding in my chest.

Thorin stepped forward, concern etched across his face. He pulled back Hunter's torn sleeve, revealing the ugly wound. "Damn it, it's a spider bite. And a serious one," he growled, anger and fear intertwining in his voice.

Before we could react, a skittering sound echoed through the trees. Countless spiders poured from the shadows, their legs moving in a horrific dance. "Get back!" I shouted, adrenaline pumping through my veins. But it was too late. In the chaos, Lulu was caught off guard, her disability leaving her vulnerable. I watched in horror as a spider lunged at her, and in an instant, it was over. She fell to the ground, lifeless.

"Lulu!" I screamed, despair washing over me like a wave. The sight of her still body shattered something deep within me. I was going to lose everyone.

Suddenly, the sounds of battle erupted around us as Thranduil's guards and Legolas arrived, their arrows finding their mark among the spiders. Relief surged through me as they fought back the tide of creatures, swiftly clearing the area. But the victory felt hollow. I was too aware of the cost we had already paid.

Once the chaos subsided, we were escorted to The Woodland Realm. King Thranduil stood upon his throne, his features impassive as he surveyed our ragtag group, battered and weary. "You seek refuge in my kingdom, dwarves?" he asked, his voice low and measured.

Thorin stepped forward, chin raised defiantly. "We're not here to beg, Thranduil," he said, his tone laced with both respect and distrust. The memory of the elves' inaction during the dragon attack loomed large in the air between them.

Thranduil's eyes narrowed, recognizing Thorin. A sneer formed on his lips. "Yes, I remember the dwarves of Erebor. The ones who chose their gold over loyalty and friendship."

Thorin bristled, anger flaring in his eyes. "We didn't choose gold over friendship! We were betrayed and driven from our home. And where were the elves when the dragon attacked?" His voice rose, emotions boiling over.

Thranduil leaned back in his throne, a hint of mockery in his tone. "The elves had our own wars to attend to, dwarves. We are not obligated to fight your battles."

"Obligated or not, we had a treaty! You promised us aid and protection, and you abandoned us!" Thorin's voice shook with fury, each word dripping with pain.

"Ah, the old treaties and alliances," Thranduil replied dismissively. "Sometimes they are forgotten in the face of larger issues. The world does not revolve around dwarves alone."

Thorin clenched his fists, struggling to rein in his anger. "But when you leave an entire civilization to fend for themselves against a dragon, you can't blame us for being a little... resentful."

A flicker of amusement crossed Thranduil's features, but he remained composed. "Resentment is a heavy burden to carry, Thorin Oakenshield. Perhaps you dwarves would do well to lighten it by spending your lives in the dungeon. Guards, take them away!"

Before we could react, the guards surged forward, grasping our arms roughly. I felt a surge of panic as Thorin fought against their hold, his rage erupting. "You traitorous, spineless coward! You can't lock us up!"

Thranduil remained unfazed, an air of superiority enveloping him. "Can't I? I believe I have every right to imprison traitors and trespassers within my realm. And dwarves are no exception."

As I was dragged away, I caught Thranduil's gaze lingering on me. There was something unreadable in his expression, a flicker of understanding perhaps, but it was quickly masked. He ordered his men not to take me, and for a brief moment, I held onto that sliver of hope. Maybe there was a way to turn this around.