The Path Through Mirkwood: 8 - More Trials
Characters/Pairings: Fíli/Bofur, Thorin, Thorin's Company
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Horror
Warnings: Body Horror, Oviposition, Medical Procedures, Character Death, Hallucinations
Summary: The things Thorin’s company encounters in Mirkwood are beyond their worst nightmares. As Fíli’s uncle says, the faster they travel, the sooner they will leave the forest and all its horrors behind - if they manage to....
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit.
Chapter 8: More Trials
When the gloom began turning even darker, Thorin spoke up. “As much as I want to wait here until Bombur is fine, I do not think it would be wise to spend the night next to the river. We will have to carry Bombur.”
There was quite a bit of muttering and grumbling, but Thorin held up a hand.
“I know we are all tired and wish to make greater speed, but we need to move on and Bombur is one of our company. That means he is coming with us. We will not abandon one of our own just because he is suddenly inconvenient. Anyone who thinks elsewise shall tell me so and be the first to turn back towards the Blue Mountains.”
The grumblers fell silent and a few nodded their assent. Bifur hugged Thorin, who froze and then awkwardly patted him on the back.
“Alright then. We should be able to carry him with four dwarves. Who will take the first shift together with me?” Thorin asked.
Bifur nodded and Dwalin stepped forward as well. So did Fíli. Together, they lifted Bombur from the ground and began carrying him down the forest path.
Any hopes that Bombur’s sleep would be short were dashed when he still couldn’t be roused in the morning. It was quickly decided that Dori would take over Bombur’s task of keeping track of the stores and dealing out the rations.
Fíli was packing up his bedroll when he became aware of Dori cursing.
“I’ve counted everything three times and I still keep ending up with far fewer rations than we ought to have left, even after accounting for the food we lost in the river.”
The others took a look at the food that was still there, but the result remained the same. Dori decided that the rations would have to be smaller from then on. This in addition to Thorin announcing the shifts for carrying Bombur that day resulted in a little grumbling, but there were no major protests.
As they walked through the forest, Fíli realised that the trees had changed again, which must have been what Bilbo had been looking at when they had been crossing the river. There were now trees with long, smooth trunks together with the other trees. Some of them had normal leaves, but quite a few had leaves the colour of congealed blood.
When Fíli pointed them out to Bofur, Bofur just shrugged. “They’re just trees. Who cares what colour their leaves are?”
He continued whistling his walking song.
That was when Fíli heard Bilbo yelp and curse. Fíli hurried over to him.
“What’s wrong?”
Bilbo was inspecting the underside of his left foot. A large, spiky-looking burr was buried in the tough skin. Bilbo gritted his teeth and pulled it out, drawing a few drops of blood. Bilbo looked at the blood in surprise.
“I’ve walked over broken glass before and nothing ever pierced the skin of my feet. I have never seen such monstrous beechnuts! I am sick and tired of this awful forest!” He glared at the trees Fíli had noticed earlier.
Óin took a look at Bilbo’s foot and marvelled at the thickness of a hobbit’s soles. “I don’t want to know how far this would have gone into the flesh if a bare-footed dwarf had stepped on it. This burr could easily puncture a boot, so take care not to step on them.”
That was easier said than done, as the path was thickly covered in burrs in some places.
It wasn’t long before Dwalin winced, a burr stuck in his boot and reaching into his foot. After that, they had to stop in regular intervals because somebody had missed a hidden burr and stepped in it. Before long, they were hobbling along, their mood even worse than before.
Only Bofur didn’t seem to mind the burrs and didn’t even wince when pulling them out. He still seemed cheerful, even when Glóin began speculating behind them whether Bombur had been eating more than his share of food before falling into the river. In his stead, Fíli turned around and glared at him in defence of his future brother-in-law.
Glóin promptly fell silent, at least for as long as Fíli was in hearing distance.
That evening, they made camp in an area with as few beeches as possible. They swatted the few remaining burrs aside with branches, laid out their bedrolls and settled down to eat their small meal.
When they were done, Fíli curled himself around Bofur. He waited until the noises around them had quietened down a bit.
“You know you don’t have to put on a brave face in front of me. And I’m sure the others would also understand if you let your worry show.”
Bofur turned towards him, puzzled. “Worry about what?”
“About Bombur not waking up after falling into the river.”
“Oh.” Bofur shrugged. “I’m not really that worried, actually. I supposed it’s because we’ve already been through so much, with Bifur’s head and all. It will be alright in the end.”
“I wish Bifur had some of your optimism,” Fíli said, looking over at where Bifur was hovering over Bombur, making sure he got enough water from sucking on a moist cloth.
“I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” Bofur said, rolling over again.
Fíli nodded against his back. “That might not be a bad idea. And you know I’m always here for you, if you need an open ear or anything else.”
Bofur nodded. “I know. Thank you.”
Within minutes, Fíli could hear Bofur’s softly rumbling snores. He himself needed considerably longer to fall asleep. He couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if Kíli, his mother or Thorin were in Bombur’s state. He didn’t think he could be as relaxed as Bofur was. Still, he supposed everybody reacted differently to bad luck and who was he to judge?
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Rating: PG-13
Genre: Horror
Warnings: Body Horror, Oviposition, Medical Procedures, Character Death, Hallucinations
Summary: The things Thorin’s company encounters in Mirkwood are beyond their worst nightmares. As Fíli’s uncle says, the faster they travel, the sooner they will leave the forest and all its horrors behind - if they manage to....
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit.
Chapter 8: More Trials
When the gloom began turning even darker, Thorin spoke up. “As much as I want to wait here until Bombur is fine, I do not think it would be wise to spend the night next to the river. We will have to carry Bombur.”
There was quite a bit of muttering and grumbling, but Thorin held up a hand.
“I know we are all tired and wish to make greater speed, but we need to move on and Bombur is one of our company. That means he is coming with us. We will not abandon one of our own just because he is suddenly inconvenient. Anyone who thinks elsewise shall tell me so and be the first to turn back towards the Blue Mountains.”
The grumblers fell silent and a few nodded their assent. Bifur hugged Thorin, who froze and then awkwardly patted him on the back.
“Alright then. We should be able to carry him with four dwarves. Who will take the first shift together with me?” Thorin asked.
Bifur nodded and Dwalin stepped forward as well. So did Fíli. Together, they lifted Bombur from the ground and began carrying him down the forest path.
Any hopes that Bombur’s sleep would be short were dashed when he still couldn’t be roused in the morning. It was quickly decided that Dori would take over Bombur’s task of keeping track of the stores and dealing out the rations.
Fíli was packing up his bedroll when he became aware of Dori cursing.
“I’ve counted everything three times and I still keep ending up with far fewer rations than we ought to have left, even after accounting for the food we lost in the river.”
The others took a look at the food that was still there, but the result remained the same. Dori decided that the rations would have to be smaller from then on. This in addition to Thorin announcing the shifts for carrying Bombur that day resulted in a little grumbling, but there were no major protests.
As they walked through the forest, Fíli realised that the trees had changed again, which must have been what Bilbo had been looking at when they had been crossing the river. There were now trees with long, smooth trunks together with the other trees. Some of them had normal leaves, but quite a few had leaves the colour of congealed blood.
When Fíli pointed them out to Bofur, Bofur just shrugged. “They’re just trees. Who cares what colour their leaves are?”
He continued whistling his walking song.
That was when Fíli heard Bilbo yelp and curse. Fíli hurried over to him.
“What’s wrong?”
Bilbo was inspecting the underside of his left foot. A large, spiky-looking burr was buried in the tough skin. Bilbo gritted his teeth and pulled it out, drawing a few drops of blood. Bilbo looked at the blood in surprise.
“I’ve walked over broken glass before and nothing ever pierced the skin of my feet. I have never seen such monstrous beechnuts! I am sick and tired of this awful forest!” He glared at the trees Fíli had noticed earlier.
Óin took a look at Bilbo’s foot and marvelled at the thickness of a hobbit’s soles. “I don’t want to know how far this would have gone into the flesh if a bare-footed dwarf had stepped on it. This burr could easily puncture a boot, so take care not to step on them.”
That was easier said than done, as the path was thickly covered in burrs in some places.
It wasn’t long before Dwalin winced, a burr stuck in his boot and reaching into his foot. After that, they had to stop in regular intervals because somebody had missed a hidden burr and stepped in it. Before long, they were hobbling along, their mood even worse than before.
Only Bofur didn’t seem to mind the burrs and didn’t even wince when pulling them out. He still seemed cheerful, even when Glóin began speculating behind them whether Bombur had been eating more than his share of food before falling into the river. In his stead, Fíli turned around and glared at him in defence of his future brother-in-law.
Glóin promptly fell silent, at least for as long as Fíli was in hearing distance.
That evening, they made camp in an area with as few beeches as possible. They swatted the few remaining burrs aside with branches, laid out their bedrolls and settled down to eat their small meal.
When they were done, Fíli curled himself around Bofur. He waited until the noises around them had quietened down a bit.
“You know you don’t have to put on a brave face in front of me. And I’m sure the others would also understand if you let your worry show.”
Bofur turned towards him, puzzled. “Worry about what?”
“About Bombur not waking up after falling into the river.”
“Oh.” Bofur shrugged. “I’m not really that worried, actually. I supposed it’s because we’ve already been through so much, with Bifur’s head and all. It will be alright in the end.”
“I wish Bifur had some of your optimism,” Fíli said, looking over at where Bifur was hovering over Bombur, making sure he got enough water from sucking on a moist cloth.
“I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” Bofur said, rolling over again.
Fíli nodded against his back. “That might not be a bad idea. And you know I’m always here for you, if you need an open ear or anything else.”
Bofur nodded. “I know. Thank you.”
Within minutes, Fíli could hear Bofur’s softly rumbling snores. He himself needed considerably longer to fall asleep. He couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if Kíli, his mother or Thorin were in Bombur’s state. He didn’t think he could be as relaxed as Bofur was. Still, he supposed everybody reacted differently to bad luck and who was he to judge?
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