Last Satyr of Middle Earth (Thorin Oakenshield)

Part 12

"Here lies the elven path." Gandalf calls as the company make it to the road. Iris eyes narrow not liking the entrance. Shaking her head, she curses Thranduil for how stupid he is. "Release the ponies. Let them return to their master."

Iris jumps off and walks to the dead trees. The pit of her stomach twists and she already smells the dry air. Nothing does grow here anymore. No animals live. An aura of death hangs over and she had the smallest thought to flee and not enter.

Don't be silly. You are a satyr, you are not a coward.

"You alright?" she turns over to Thorin.

"Just hope we won't be caught by elves." Thorin rub her arms and he with the company moves on. She finds Gandalf riding off toward Dol Guldur. She heard him and Beorn talking about it before they came here.

"Let's go." She prays to the lord for them not to meet the elves.

Already midway the dwarves become the most irritating creatures she has met. They yell out cursing at the forest and bad enough, she is in the middle of it with super hearing. The air is thick with decay and muggy. Suffocating but somehow it does not affect her so much.

They settle down camp and the group head on to laughing and chatting. She hears many whispers' as the trees chitter and chat along with the vile creatures lurking in shadows. Her fur is bristled and no matter of running her fingers down they continue to stick up. Her senses are on frenzy and when Bilbo touches, she nearly leapt through the trees above.

"You okay?" He asks concerned.

"Yeah. The aura is setting me very much on edge. Just need to be extremely careful." Bilbo has seen the fear before her eyes move around. She is terrified.

That night they sleep huddled together but as morning came, one of them were gone. At first, they didn't think much of it but after thirty minutes pass, they begin calling.

"Iris!" Thorin jerks awake hearing the name he loves. His eyes spin around and indeed find her gone. "Iris!"

After the satyr had gone, the dwarves had lost their senses and nearly been eaten by spiders if it had not been for their hobbit friend. He was just as worried about Iris but knew she wanted someone to look out for the company.

Now they are surrounded by elves and the satyr is not among them. A sharp end of an arrow pointed right at Thorin's nose.

"Do not think I won't kill you dwarf." A strapping young elf sneer. "It would be my pleasure."

Thorin almost dared the elf to shoot but a figure dropping before him stops them. Standing straight with her pine scent wafting over him. Thorin hadn't been so relieved in his life and if it had not been for their situation, he would have kissed her till he could not breathe.

"And do not think I won't punch that pretty face of yours, elf." The dwarves watch the satyr point her own bow and arrow at the elf. Their bodies adjacent to one another, arrows right at the tip of their noses. "It would be such a shame."

"What are you?" the elf prince does not lower his bow. Neither does she.

"None of concern." The elf eyes rake up and down from the hooves and furry legs to the white silk wrap over her breasts and braided hair showing her face and honey eyes. He admits she is very beautiful his father would like to meet her.

The prince shouts out to his kin in Elvish lowering his bow and arrow. The satyr narrows her eyes and he lifts his chin. A dare between them before she lowers her bow. The prince moves to grasp the weapon but a lonely arrow sticks under his chin.

"This bow was made by my kin. The arrows forged with ancient magic. Touch them and your life ends here sweetheart." The elf gulps seeing those honey eyes shade down to oak wood.