The Last of the Guardians Part 2 - A Hobbit Fan Fiction

Chapter 8 - The Woodland Realm

"Nemaiza!" Sîor's voice cut through their intimate moment, causing Nema to withdraw her arms from around Fili and jump up. "Now is hardly the time to be fraternising in such a manner."

"An interesting choice of word," Fili growled, while Nema apologised to Sîor.

"I regret my actions," she said, wiping the tears away before the male guardian saw them.

"So you should," Sîor scolded. "A Guardian never lets his guard down yet you are allowing us to be surrounded."

Nema's eyes widened as she realised the truth of his words. The Guardian had been so absorbed in Fili that she had allowed the spiders descending upon them to go unnoticed. The other dwarves, aided by Sîor had been fending them off successfully for a while, but now the spiders were closing in.

"Come and get me!" Nema heard Dwalin roar. Spinning round, she saw a huge spider charge at the dwarf, who dodged out of its path just in time so that it smashed into a tree. It stumbled back, dazed, giving Dwalin time to finish it off with his dual swords.

Not ten feet away, Kili was firing arrow after arrow at the spiders advancing on him. They struck true, and yet the spiders continued to charge. It would not be long before Kili was out of arrows. Fili darted forward to give his brother aid, felling one spider with a quick thrust through its abdomen with his sword.

"Thanks," Kili grunted, and the two brothers moved onto the next spider.

Nema turned again, this time to see Bombur take a running jump and land on top of a spider's back. His weight crushed the beast and black liquid seeped from it's broken body. Bifur cheered, then spun around in time to finish off the spider that had been creeping up behind him.

It was then that Nema heard Thorin's battle cry. She turned in time to see him lop the head of a spider with one blow, then charge at another. But before he could reach it an arrow sliced the air in front of him and buried itself in one of the spider's eyes. Before Thorin could look for the archer, another arrow zoomed past his head.

A low snarl escaped Nema's throat and she lunged at Thorin, knocking him to the ground.

"Nema, what are you-?" the dwarf started, trying to shove her off.

"Keep your head down!" She hissed in his ear. Her wings opened out and encased them in a shield of white feathers, much as they had done on the mountainside when they faced Azog. "There are elves nearby. I will not let them hurt you."

The dwarf's face darkened. "Elves..." he growled. "Let me up, Nema. Let me face them."

"No."

But Thorin would not listen. He pushed against the Guardian with all his strength until she relented, and released him. Furious, Thorin stood up and looked around, there was still some fighting going on, but there was not a spider to be seen. The dwarves were now doing battle with the elves.

Nema counted fifty of them, and at the same moment she felt the tip of an arrow rest between her shoulder blades. A small gasp escaped her.

"Move," said a voice behind her. The tip of the arrow dug into her skin until she stumbled forwards. Several of the dwarves, she saw, were also being shoved along by elves with long, silver hair.

Of course, a few of the other dwarves resisted. Thorin put up a huge fight; spitting in the faces of the elves and brandishing his sword. Dwalin followed his lead, swinging his sword at the elves closest to him. The fight was short-lived. A slender elf with long hair of pale gold drew back an arrow and aimed it straight at Thorin. As if sensing the threat of death behind him, Thorin turned, slowly, and faced the elf. Their eyes met and as the dwarf raised his sword, the elf moved his arrow to aim at Thorin's brow.

"Do not think I will not kill you, dwarf," said the elf in a harsh whisper.

"Thorin," Nema hissed. The dwarf looked over his shoulder at her, and lowered his sword. Relief flooded the Guardian's face, but was soon replaced by a mask that hid her emotions. It would not do to let the elves know she was already planning their escape.

"Drop your weapons," the elf commanded. Irritated, the dwarves threw their swords and axes to the floor, and Kili reluctantly surrendered his bow and quiver of arrows to a female elf with long, auburn hair.

Nema felt the sudden urge to look to her mentor, and slowly turned her head to see Sîor eyeing her intently. When he saw he had her attention, Sîor flicked his gaze to his sword, bow and quiver, all lying in a pile with the other weapons, and then back at Nema. She frowned at him, unsure what he wanted her to do. All around them, the elves were searching the dwarves for hidden weapons. One elf, tall and fair, stood before Nema, waiting for her to relinquish her sword and bow. Sîor looked again at his weapons, then lifted a hand - only slightly, so as not to draw attention to himself - and let out a long, steady breath. At the same time, he drew his hand through the air, as though plucking the strings of an invisible harp. Nema watched in amazement as the Guardian's weapons vanished from the pile. Sîor nodded to her to do the same.

Eager to try, Nema threw down her bow, the quiver of arrows and her beautiful sword. The elf, satisfied, looked away and spoke to another in his elvish tongue. Letting out her breath, Nema focused her attention on the weapons and imitated the movement Sîor had done with his hand. Her weapons melted into the air. A grin spread across her face, but she quickly schooled her expression so the elves would not notice.

It was then that the elves began herding them away from the spider carcasses and through the forest. The webs became few and far between, until they disappeared altogether, and sunlight was once again permeating the woods. The sound of rushing water grew louder and louder, and soon they were crossing a narrow bridge over a small river. Where it led they could not see, for they were led through two huge doors and into a cavernous room.

At first, the dwarves believed the room to be carved out of a mountain, but upon closer inspection they saw the cavern had been formed from many trees, growing together into one. Roots became stairways, and branches grew into pathways across wide gaps. The elves moved them along one thick branch that stretched to the very top of the room where a ray of sun shone on a carved, wooden throne.

Thorin stopped still when he reached the foot of the steps leading to the throne, and took in the elf sitting upon it with intense loathing in his eyes.

***Hey, so I know this is on the extreme end of the Late Scale and it's also not all that long (or good), but I am incredibly sorry! Quick explanation for those who need one: I have mocks next week so I have been revising the hell out of my little brain. Forgiven? Thanks for reading anyway - oh, and what do you all think about the new covers? Yay or ney?***