Golden Thrones and Moonlight Veils (HOBBIT FANFICTION)

The King of the Forest

As Bilbo climbed higher, the oppressive fog clouding his mind seemed to lift, replaced by the clarity of fresh air and golden light. His thoughts became sharper, lighter, as if the strange poison of the forest was left behind in the shadows below. Higher and higher he went, the branches thinning as he approached the forest's crown, until finally, he broke through the russet leaves and gasped at the sight before him.

The Lonely Mountain stood proudly in the distance, its snowy peak gleaming under the sun. A beacon of hope, it towered over the vast stretch of wilderness. Below, a long, narrow lake shimmered, and Bilbo traced the flow of a river winding towards it—surely the same one they had camped beside the previous night. If they followed the river, they might escape this cursed forest before nightfall. His heart swelled with excitement.

"I see the Lonely Mountain!" he called down to his companions, his voice carrying on the breeze. "I've found the way!"

For the first time in what felt like ages, hope surged through him. Their journey would continue. Unfortunately, his excitement was short-lived.

Silence greeted him from below. No cheers, no responses—only an eerie stillness. A cold dread crept into Bilbo's mind as he began his descent. Had they left him behind? No, Thorin wouldn't abandon him, nor would the women allow such a thing. He clung to that reassurance, but doubt gnawed at him all the same.

As he hurried downward, something caught his eye. The branches around him were laced with thick strands of white silk—spider webs, far larger than any he had ever seen. How had he not noticed them before? He slowed, heart pounding, when suddenly there was movement. From the corner of his eye, he saw it—a spider, grotesque and enormous, easily twice his size, lurking just inches away.

Before he could react, Bilbo lost his footing. He tumbled, crashing through the branches, only to land on a sticky web. He struggled to free himself, but the more he moved, the tighter the web's embrace. Above him, the spider descended, moving quickly to ensnare him in layers of silk. In mere moments, he was wrapped tightly in a cocoon, barely able to move.

His vision blurred, but he could still make out vague shapes around him. More spiders, swarming through the trees. In the distance, he saw his companions—dwarves, all of them, trapped in webs just like his. His heart raced, but then his hand brushed against something hard at his thigh. His sword! His wonderful little blade, forgotten in his panic, was still with him. With quick, deliberate movements, he slashed through the web and drove the blade into the spider's soft belly as it scuttled by.

Without hesitation, he reached for the simple gold ring in his pocket—the magic ring he had taken from the creature Gollum deep in the Goblin tunnels. Slipping it onto his finger, Bilbo vanished from sight. Invisible, he moved quietly through the trees, determined to free his friends from the spiders' clutches, the ring's strange power keeping him hidden from the many eyes that watched.

✧

"What a nightmare," whimpered Eline, clutching Talessa tightly. "Tessie, please tell me I'm dreaming, that I'll wake up soon and realize this is all just my imagination."

Talessa couldn't tell her that. The events unfolding around them were all too real.

It had happened so quickly. One moment, they were listening to the dwarves bicker, and the next, they were ambushed by enormous spiders—just like the one from her vision the night before. She might have dismissed it as her imagination, but the startled shouts of the dwarves and the eerie whispers of the creatures were far too real. Then the very spider she had seen in her vision lunged at her, wrapping her in its web.

Suspended in the web, Talessa had too much time to think, to gather her frantic thoughts. Had she predicted this? Last night, she had thought it was just a dream, a trick of her mind. But now she recalled their crossing of the Misty Mountains weeks earlier, and a flash of a vision about a storm and falling rocks. Those events had come true, just like this.