"The Elven Gate." Gandalf announces as they dismount the ponies that Beorn lent them. "Here lies our path through Mirkwood."
"No sign of the Orcs. We have luck on our side." Dwalin laughs and something catches Gandalf's attention in the distance. Beorn in his animal form.
"I wouldn't credit this to luck." Durion hums as he too sees the skin-changer.
"Set the ponies loose. Let them return to their master."
"This forest feels... sick, as if a disease lies upon it. Is there no way around?" Bilbo nervously plays with the pocket on his jacket as he looks at Gandalf.
"Not unless we go two hundred miles north, or twice that distance south." Then suddenly he waves his hand. "Not my horse! I need it."
"You're leaving us?" The hobbit looks at him in despair.
"I would not do this unless I had to. You've changed, Bilbo Baggins. You're not the same Hobbit as the one who left the Shire."
"I was going to tell you; I... found something in the Goblin tunnels."
"Found what? What did you find?"
"...My courage."
"Good. Well, that's good. You'll need it." The wizard then turns and walks towards his horse. "Durion, you've walked the Elven Road before, guide them through."
"That was a long time ago. Before the woods worked against you."
"Don't use runes unless you absolutely have to." Durion wanted to ask why, but the wizard didn't give him the chance. "I'll be waiting for you at the overlook, before the slopes of Erebor. Keep the map and key safe. Do not enter that mountain without me. This is not the Greenwood of old. The very air of the forest is heavy with illusion. It will seek to enter your mind and lead you astray."
"Lead us astray? What does that mean?"
"You must stay on the path; do not leave it. If you do, you will never find it again." Gandalf mounts the horse and rides away, the company staring after him with confusion. "No matter what may come, stay on the path!"
***
Durion felt like he was drunk. There was a heavy cloud of confusion placed upon his eyes, making everything around him rock like a boat. But he was doing better than the dwarves.
"The path goes this way." Thorin's heavy voice spoke and Durion shook his head, momentarily clearing his vision. The path twists and turns, doing its best to lose them. For a moment, the dwarves at the front panicked, saying that they lost the path. Durion made his way to the front and stumbled over a rock. It was the path turning sharply to the left.
"Here, this way." They were somehow regularly switching the 'leader' and were working together well, but the forest's air was too heavy for them to keep clear mind. The company suddenly stopped.
"What's happening?"
"Keep moving. Nori, why have we stopped?"
"The path... it's disappeared!" Nori points forward to where the path should be, but isn't.
"What's going on?"
"We've lost the path!"
"Find it. All of you look. Look for the path!" Durion turns back and suddenly realizes he does not recall where they came from. It doesn't disturb him as much as it should.
"I don't remember this place before. None of it's familiar."
"It's got to be here."
"What hour is it?"
"I do not know. I don't even know what day it is."
"Is there no end to this accursed place?!" Thorin yells out and Durion does not have the urge to quiet him down, even if he should. They continue walking, without path and without direction.
"Look." Ori bends down and picks something up, Durion looks at it, expression sleepy and bored.
"A tobacco pouch. There's dwarves in these woods."
"Dwarves from the Blue Mountains, no less. This is exactly the same as mine."
"Because it is yours. You understand? We're going round in circles. We are lost." Bilbo speaks up, frustration clear in his voice.
"We're not lost. We keep heading east."
"But which way is east? We've lost the sun." The hobbit places his head in his hands and then suddenly looks up. He goes to Durion and shakes him as much as he can.
"The sun. We have to find the sun." In a moment of clarity, Durion looks down at the hobbit. "Up there. We need to-" And Bilbo starts climbing a tree. Durion furrows his eyebrows, but shrugs and follows the hobbit. The moment they emerge from the leaves and the wind hits their faces, their mind clears. It's like they've been suffocating without knowing. Durion gulps in a deep breath and Bilbo laughs.
"I- I can see a lake! And a river." Durion holds a branch out of the way for the hobbit to see the best landmark they need. "And the Lonely Mountain. We're almost there!" No one replies. "Can you hear me? I know which way to go! Hello?" A branch snaps somewhere on the ground and Durion turns his head down, looking for the source. "Hello?" Bilbo starts to descend but Durion stops him.
"Hang on." He pulls him back up and begins drawing the rune Mannaz, focusing its meaning onto a clear mind. It glows and then disappears between them. Bilbo's mind feels more focused than ever before. "Let's go, stick close to me." They climb a bit down and when Bilbo makes a step forward, his foot catches on something. Durion is too slow to catch him and the hobbit falls. "Bilbo!" The elf shouts and then freezes when a giant spider sweeps down and wraps the hobbit in its webs. A quick look around confirms Durion's assumption of the dwarves being attacked by the spiders as well. There is an almost unheard sound behind him and Durion spins around, unsheathing his sword. A spider sneaked up on him. He slashed it across its eyes and its body fell all the way down. That successfully gained the attention of all the spiders, who began making their way to him. "Ah, Valar..." Sighed Durion and ran. At least he could guide most of the spiders away from the company. He dodged the spiders to the best of his abilities, but he was no wood elf. One spider surprised him from the right and Durion found himself with a pounding gash on his right arm. The pain almost made him drop his sword. He landed painfully on the ground and scrambled back to his feet. He could hear shouts some distance away and recognised them as dwarves. All but two spiders left him and returned to attack the rest. Durion swung his sword and cut off the two front legs of one of them and then ran to create some distance. The spider he hadn't hit followed him and snapped at him. Durion rebounded off a tree and landed on the spider's back, easily killing him from there. His heart was beating fast as he quickly returned to the dwarves. His feet slid on the leaves as he came to an abrupt stop when he was met with an arrow aimed right at his head. He held his breath when the arrow flew by his ear and killed the spider he previously injured who sneaked up behind him. Before Durion regained his composure, the archer had another arrow notched and aimed at him.
"Drop the sword." He said, voice cold. Durion looked him in the eyes and clenched his jaw. The archer frowned, then, as if something clicked, the stare turned from unapproachable to absolutely livid. "Now!" Durion quickly dropped his weapon and lifted his hands, ignoring the pain in his arm. He also noticed the dwarves rounded up ahead of him and the large party of wood elves that kept them from resisting. Durion is pushed to them. "Search them." The blond elf commands and they are stripped of their weapons.
"Hey, watch the arm!" Durion growls as he is carelessly pushed around.
"Are the spiders dead?"
"Yes, but more will come. They're growing bolder." Durion overhears the archer talking to a red headed elf woman. One of the elves calls to him. Legolas, Durion hears and suddenly he remembers. This is the elven prince.
"This is an ancient Elvish blade. Forged by my kin." Legolas walks over to Thorin and takes the dwarf's sword. "Where did you get this?"
"It was given to me."
"Not just a thief, but a liar as well." Legolas levels the blade with Thorin's neck.
"He's not lying. He was given a blessing by-" Durion speaks but Legolas points the sword at him, rage back in his blue eyes.
"You keep quiet. You'll be lucky if you're not executed by dawn. Take them!" Durion was left speechless as they were pushed into a walk.
"What did you do?" Fili asked him, shocked by the elves' attitude towards Durion. The black eyed elf could only shrug.
***
"Some may imagine that a noble quest is at hand. A quest to reclaim a homeland and slay a dragon. I myself suspect a more prosaic motive: attempted burglary, or something of that ilk." If Durion didn't have a blade pressed to his neck, he would roll his eyes at the king Thranduil's monologue. His legs hurt from kneeling on the stone floor of the throne room and his injured arm burned as if someone had pressed a glowing red iron brand into his skin. "You have found a way in. You seek that which would bestow upon you the right to rule: the King's Jewel, the Arkenstone. It is precious to you beyond measure. I understand that. There are gems in the mountain that I too desire. White gems of pure starlight. I offer you my help." Thorin, being the same height as the currently kneeling Durion, looked up at Thranduil, a flame of hate in his darkened eyes.
"I am listening."
"I will let you go, if you but return what is mine." Durion didn't follow. How were the jewels he spoke of in the mountain his?
"A favor for a favor."
"You have my word. One king to another." Thorin, who was until now walking back and forth, stops.
"I would not trust Thranduil, the great king, to honor his word should the end of all days be upon us! You lack all honor! I've seen how you treat your friends. We came to you once, starving, homeless, seeking your help, but you turned your back. You turned away from the suffering of my people and the inferno that destroyed us! Imrid amrad ursul!" Durion didn't have to know the language to recognize an insult. Thranduil shot up from his throne and leaned close to the dwarf.
"Do not talk to me of dragon fire. I know its wrath and ruin. I have faced the great serpents of the north." As Thranduil speaks, his face deforms. The elven beauty dissolved into a mess of burn scars, which were crowned with a milky white, unseeing eye. The injury is covered by glamor once more as the king steps away.
"I warned your grandfather of what his greed would summon, but he would not listen. You are just like him." Thorin is grabbed by guards and they start to drag him away. "Stay here if you will, and rot. A hundred years is a mere blink in the life of an elf. I am patient. I can wait." The king returned to his throne and Durion sent a silent prayer to the Valar. "Now, to you." Cold shiver ran down his back at the king's words. He would have to play this very carefully.
"My king, I have a question." He was very proud of himself for keeping his voice steady.
"Amuse me."
"On what charges has there been a bounty placed upon my head?"
"You don't remember?"
"I don't know."
"Hmm, perhaps Legolas can freshen up your memory." The prince stepped into Durion's field of vision, startling him.
"You cursed me." The prince hissed and Durion's eyebrows shot up.
"What? I've never seen you before today."
"Then why has your face been haunting my dreams for 300 years?" Durion's lips parted, confusion clear as day on his face.
"My... What? You think I did that?! I don't know any curses! Nor the rune for dreams. I didn't curse your prince!" Durion, mistakenly, let his voice rise. The king stood up and grabbed Durion's chin, making him look up. "I swear." He mumbled, desperation in his voice.
"I don't believe you." Durion's heart sank. "You will be executed by dawn."
Well... that could have gone better for Durion. I kinda feel a bit bad for him. *manic laughter in the background *