Born from Stone (A Thorin Oakenshield story)

Acts of good will

The walk through the dark forest of Mirkwood was endlessly long. The air felt heavy and Eilin's fragile consciousness was faltering. All she could see was dried branches entwined to create a wooden web that dimmed the already faded sunlight of those heavy winter days. Trees were coming from every direction, even crisscrossing in the middle of the barely discernible path under their feet and the eerie quietness almost pained her ears. It was as if the thickness of the air was muting every sound. She didn't know if it was the magic of the forest that Thorin had spoken so much about, but it was disorienting her, confusing her senses. After a while she didn't know the way back to the enchanted lake even though the path they were on never diverged. She couldn't tell if they were going north or south or even were Erebor was approximately. She winced and inhaled deeply trying to clear the fog out of her brain. She got transfixed into the entwined secret path and a shade of fear run down her back. She felt a certainty that if the elves abandoned her and Thorin here, they'd die before they could find their way out. On that thought she turned around for the umpteenth time to check on him. He was following on foot, looking far less troubled than her.

"Are you alright?" her voice drew abnormally, as if the air itself was pulling it apart.

He looked up at her and smiled instantly. Apparently this forest didn't have the same effect on him. "I am, but you don't look so well," he said concerned.

"This forest feels heavy almost suffocating" -she shook her head- "it is also so warm, as if the cold is not passing through the thick canopy," she looked up to see any sign of the sky, but failed.

"Elven magic" -he turned to his captors- "can we hurry up with this menagerie? The magic of your boss is falling heavy on her." This was the first time since they were captured she heard his voice becoming seriously authoritative.

"That is why she was allowed to remain on her horse. She will be taken care off, worry not." The elf who was leading her animal replied without turning to him.

"I'll be alright," she forced a smile that made her lips feel numb.

Thorin looked at her uneasily while the elf that led him by the rope around his wrists pulled him to attention. Another forced smile was send back in order to reassure him and then she settled down again, more from the fear that she was going to soon faint. She didn't recollect how much longer they kept walking quietly through the deep foliage with her counting her breaths, but when her horse passed under a green archway that led them out into a deep ravine, she inhaled deeply and felt as if someone had just pulled her from underwater. She looked up and saw the clouds, felt the snow falling to her burning brow and shuddered with pleasure. She heard the angry flow of the forest river and saw the gates of Thranduil's halls awaiting for them, just over a stone viaduct that looked like dwarven architecture. It was as if nature suddenly came alive around them. She raised her hands and spread the soothing cold snow on her burning brow. The elves led them above the viaduct and upon reaching the gates of the elven realm she felt almost normal. The spell that this forest was under was certainly disorienting, possibly created so that no one could find the entrance to the elven halls. The gates looked like they were made out of tree roots intricately entwined. They were led inside what looked like a wide cavern that led to a long hallway, made out of stone and tree roots. The elves continued their route until they came upon a junction of three walkways that were hovering above the ground. The elf that was holding her horse turned to her, "you have to dismount."

She alighted and immediately walked back to join Thorin, but an arrow was instantly pointed at her face. She yelped and froze still.

Thorin jerked so hard against his restraints that the rope broke around his wrists. No one saw what he did, or how quickly, but the elf pointing the arrow at Eilin, found himself on a rear naked choke. He gasped for air as the natural paleness of his face was instantly swapped with a blue hue caused by Thorin's suffocating deadlock. Every arrow available turned on him, but his voice echoed fearless in Thranduil's halls nonetheless, "no one points an arrow at her."