Everlong

52

Peril had become a rather constant companion and feeling throughout the whole journey to Erebor so far; that wasn't to say that by now Bilbo was impervious to it, completely desensitised to the point that any dangerous situation was met with indifference. Quite the opposite, Bilbo was anything but cautious, he couldn't say the same for his companions. No, he definitely travelled with an interesting bunch of characters, it was reasonably hard at times for him to figure out just why he was truly still here. He was assigned the job of being a burglar, Bilbo had never stolen anything in his life, ever.

Although, in some ways this could be a tarnish record, the ring in which had fallen from the creature in the tunnels beneath Goblin Town, was rather speedily snatched up by him but he hadn't actually stolen it. The ring fell from Gollum's person, and Bilbo just happened to pick it up. Finders keepers, and all that.

Regardless of the matters of stealing, or not stealing, the main point of his wandering thoughts was peril, danger, the blatant wrong thing staring him right in the face and knowing, just knowing, this thing was not to be trifled with. He was on about a forest. Mirkwood, to be exact. He stood away from the dwarven group while they conversed with Gandalf about something. Bilbo didn't feel right, it was like the forest was trying to repel him. His eyes narrowed and looked around and up at the sky, he was half expecting to see some sort of barrier, there was none. Honestly, the forest didn't feel right.

He remembered Beorn briefly conversing about the forest, his tone low and dangerous sounding as he mentioned details. The more prominent feature in the conversation was those that lived in there. Bilbo didn't know how anyone could live in such a dark place. And it was dark, the trees creaked and groaned from an invisible wind, almost like a voice whispering through the shattered bark covered limbs and trunks of the silvery greying trees. The forest from where he was standing, looked dead.

The trees did not seem alive, the forest didn't feel alive, which bought him back to the elves that lived in there. They were alive, definitely alive, Beorn had warned them all off them. Thorin had been jaded on the subject, him and the other dwarves dislike of elves and anything elven was made more than obvious from the brief stay in Imladris. Bilbo for one thought Rivendell was beautiful, he hadn't ever thought he'd see such a magnificent place before. So used to rolling hills and open pastures of the Shire, he was surely a long way home.

But what would the home within Mirkwood look like? Bilbo had a natural curiosity in him, especially if elves were involved. It unsettled him to hear Beorn speak so sourly about the woodland elves. Despite of the running away and small interactions with Elrond and the elves he lives alongside, they all seemed polite enough, charming even; Beorn said the woodland elves were the complete opposite. It made Bilbo's stomach drop. How much opposite, was opposite?

Calculating, secretive, allusive and quick to anger and action. Bilbo didn't think he liked the sounds of these elves all too much, and it seemed like a feeling which was shared when they were all seated around Beorn's huge dining table having breakfast. However, and this was a however coming from a being who as yet hadn't contradicted himself; he had said the princess within Mirkwood was different.

From the recognition which flickered across Thorin's face, Bilbo presumed he knew of her. Even Gandalf paused smoking his pipe upon hearing this. "Understanding and determined. The intelligence in that one goes beyond her years." Allusive and slightly ominous, but that's what Beorn used to describe the nameless princess. Maybe he wouldn't mind meeting her...

His thoughts were quickly shaken from his head, his eyes narrowed slowly when he spotted remnants of statues, crumbled and broken. The white marble of them seemed to have an almost decayed look, veiny tendrils wrapped and travelled up and over them. The marks from a female statue with her hands clasped together was perhaps the most unnerving to Bilbo, mossy lines etched her face and it almost looked like she was crying. If it was a clean statue and if the carving was to likeness, he would say the female would've been beautiful in life. This statue was eerily beautiful, and that made it worse.