The Path Through Mirkwood: 12 - The Feast
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 12: The Feast
The company started into the next day slightly more subdued. Bilbo and several others seemed to have been impressed enough by Bombur’s description of the elvish feast to dream of it as well. They were all disappointed to be torn out of this fantasy and back into the bleak reality.
They set out grumbling and only ill-temperedly kicked at one of the mushrooms from time to time. The mushrooms, however, began to glow more strongly until they seemed like coloured lamps by the side of the path.
Fíli was just about to stop and marvel at them when Thorin’s cry startled him. “There! Kíli, get your bow! There was the white stag again!”
They stopped as one and Kíli took his bow out. He crept closer to the tree Thorin had indicated.
/There’s nothing here,/ he signed in Igleshmêk.
/Keep looking further into the forest. It has to be somewhere,/ Thorin signed back.
Kíli kept looking into the forest as far as he dared. Finally, he came back. “Sorry, I couldn’t find it.”
“We’ll get it next time,” Thorin said, grimly determined.
Fíli briefly wondered why he was so set on killing the white stag, but was quickly distracted by the pulsating lights of the mushrooms again.
When Fíli paid attention to the path again, he noticed it was becoming narrow and was winding through the trees instead of mostly running straight ahead. They had started losing speed. Some of the others also seemed to be admiring the mushrooms or were peering into the forest.
Bilbo was gazing up into the darkness of the treetops. “Look! All those butterflies! There have to be thousands of them!” He said, pulling at Ori’s sleeve.
Ori squinted into the darkness and Fíli looked towards where Bilbo was pointing as well.
“I can’t see anything,” Ori said, “only darkness.”
“Well, they are very dark, nearly black,” Bilbo replied. “I wouldn’t expect anything else in this forest. But they are pretty.”
Ori stared up again and shrugged. Fíli couldn’t see anything either. A hobbit’s eyes really seemed to be much more efficient than a dwarf’s.
They continued on, Bilbo still marvelling at the butterflies.
They hadn’t gone very far when Fíli heard Thorin growl behind him.
“Elves! I knew it! They are hiding behind the trees. Fíli, warn the others quietly, we might be attacked.”
Fíli did as he was told and the dwarves continued, ready to reach for their weapons at any moment.
“That’s typical,” Thorin grumbled. “They show up when you don’t expect them and then they disappear again!”
The dwarves were almost about to relax again when Thorin charged towards the trees.
“What to you want of me, King of the tree-shaggers?!” he yelled. “You traitor of traitors, at least have the courage to face me!”
He rushed around the trees.
“Where are you? What elvish sorcery did you use to disappear now? Not only are you a traitor, you’re a coward as well! At least face me, you elvish heap of refuse!”
As the remaining company watched, Fíli followed his uncle between the trees.
“He’s gone,” he said quietly. “And if he’s not, you’re just making a spectacle of yourself, which is probably exactly what he wants. Beorn said we shouldn’t leave the path. We ought to return before we get lost.”
Thorin fell silent and followed Fíli back to the path, still fuming. They continued on their way, Thorin glaring at the forest more than ever.
They travelled for a while without anything happening before Ori halted abruptly in front of Fíli. “I hear music!”
The others stopped as well, looking around.
“Look, there’s light in the forest!” Dwalin said, pointing.
“It’s the feast!” Bombur shouted and then there was no more holding the company. They scrabbled into the woods, tripping over twigs and branches. They slipped on dead leaves and mushrooms in their haste to get there.
“Wait! Stay on the path! There are elves and there is no trusting elves!” Fíli heard Thorin yelling in the distance, but the prospect of a feast was stronger. Although Fíli had neither been able to hear the music nor see the light from the path, it soon became clear that there was really a feast going on. He could see the light of several fires and hear the harps and singing. The smell of roasting meat made Fíli’s stomach rumble.
They stumbled into the clearing. Darkness greeted them.
Groping blindly, Fíli found the arm of another dwarf. “Kíli?”
“No, I’m Bofur.”
“Why are you so thin?”
“I told you, I’m hungry. Where did the feast go? It was here just now.”
“I don’t know,” Fíli replied. “Where are the others? Kíli?”
Amidst the confused muttering, Fíli heard Kíli’s voice reply. “Fíli? I’m over here.”
Fíli’s eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness again and he reached for Bofur’s arm to pull him towards Kíli. To his surprise, he noticed a bruise forming on Bofur’s arm.
“Where did you get that bruise from?” Fíli asked as they made their way over to Kíli.
“I probably got hit by a twig when running,” Bofur said without looking at the bruise. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt.”
“What happened to the feast and the elves?” Kíli asked when they reached him. “They were right here, the Elvenking with a crown of orange leaves on his head singing such a beautiful song...”
By now Fíli had fully regained his sight. The wistful look on Kíli’s face nearly turned his stomach.
“That’s just the kind of sorcery elves are fond of,” Thorin thundered and Fíli felt a sudden surge of relief that Thorin had followed them despite his misgivings. “Elves will enchant you with their singing, wine and sweet words and then it will all just turn out to be a mirage. That’s why you can’t trust them. Now we need to return to the path before we can’t find...”
“Look! There they are!” Glóin shouted, pointing. “We just stopped too quickly!”
“No, stay here! It’s not real!” Thorin shouted, but clearly Fíli’s uncle had to be mistaken. The feast was right there, waiting for them. Once they had finally satisfied their hunger and drank as much wine as they wished, they would be able to join the dancing and perhaps teach the elves some new songs.
Fíli rushed towards the feast with all the others, not caring that he tore open his hand on a stump when tripping. Blood dripping from his hand, he raced into the brightly lit clearing, only to be enveloped by darkness again. Somebody ran into him, cursing as they both crashed to the ground.
Previous Chapter <> Chapter Index <> Next Chapter
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 12: The Feast
The company started into the next day slightly more subdued. Bilbo and several others seemed to have been impressed enough by Bombur’s description of the elvish feast to dream of it as well. They were all disappointed to be torn out of this fantasy and back into the bleak reality.
They set out grumbling and only ill-temperedly kicked at one of the mushrooms from time to time. The mushrooms, however, began to glow more strongly until they seemed like coloured lamps by the side of the path.
Fíli was just about to stop and marvel at them when Thorin’s cry startled him. “There! Kíli, get your bow! There was the white stag again!”
They stopped as one and Kíli took his bow out. He crept closer to the tree Thorin had indicated.
/There’s nothing here,/ he signed in Igleshmêk.
/Keep looking further into the forest. It has to be somewhere,/ Thorin signed back.
Kíli kept looking into the forest as far as he dared. Finally, he came back. “Sorry, I couldn’t find it.”
“We’ll get it next time,” Thorin said, grimly determined.
Fíli briefly wondered why he was so set on killing the white stag, but was quickly distracted by the pulsating lights of the mushrooms again.
When Fíli paid attention to the path again, he noticed it was becoming narrow and was winding through the trees instead of mostly running straight ahead. They had started losing speed. Some of the others also seemed to be admiring the mushrooms or were peering into the forest.
Bilbo was gazing up into the darkness of the treetops. “Look! All those butterflies! There have to be thousands of them!” He said, pulling at Ori’s sleeve.
Ori squinted into the darkness and Fíli looked towards where Bilbo was pointing as well.
“I can’t see anything,” Ori said, “only darkness.”
“Well, they are very dark, nearly black,” Bilbo replied. “I wouldn’t expect anything else in this forest. But they are pretty.”
Ori stared up again and shrugged. Fíli couldn’t see anything either. A hobbit’s eyes really seemed to be much more efficient than a dwarf’s.
They continued on, Bilbo still marvelling at the butterflies.
They hadn’t gone very far when Fíli heard Thorin growl behind him.
“Elves! I knew it! They are hiding behind the trees. Fíli, warn the others quietly, we might be attacked.”
Fíli did as he was told and the dwarves continued, ready to reach for their weapons at any moment.
“That’s typical,” Thorin grumbled. “They show up when you don’t expect them and then they disappear again!”
The dwarves were almost about to relax again when Thorin charged towards the trees.
“What to you want of me, King of the tree-shaggers?!” he yelled. “You traitor of traitors, at least have the courage to face me!”
He rushed around the trees.
“Where are you? What elvish sorcery did you use to disappear now? Not only are you a traitor, you’re a coward as well! At least face me, you elvish heap of refuse!”
As the remaining company watched, Fíli followed his uncle between the trees.
“He’s gone,” he said quietly. “And if he’s not, you’re just making a spectacle of yourself, which is probably exactly what he wants. Beorn said we shouldn’t leave the path. We ought to return before we get lost.”
Thorin fell silent and followed Fíli back to the path, still fuming. They continued on their way, Thorin glaring at the forest more than ever.
They travelled for a while without anything happening before Ori halted abruptly in front of Fíli. “I hear music!”
The others stopped as well, looking around.
“Look, there’s light in the forest!” Dwalin said, pointing.
“It’s the feast!” Bombur shouted and then there was no more holding the company. They scrabbled into the woods, tripping over twigs and branches. They slipped on dead leaves and mushrooms in their haste to get there.
“Wait! Stay on the path! There are elves and there is no trusting elves!” Fíli heard Thorin yelling in the distance, but the prospect of a feast was stronger. Although Fíli had neither been able to hear the music nor see the light from the path, it soon became clear that there was really a feast going on. He could see the light of several fires and hear the harps and singing. The smell of roasting meat made Fíli’s stomach rumble.
They stumbled into the clearing. Darkness greeted them.
Groping blindly, Fíli found the arm of another dwarf. “Kíli?”
“No, I’m Bofur.”
“Why are you so thin?”
“I told you, I’m hungry. Where did the feast go? It was here just now.”
“I don’t know,” Fíli replied. “Where are the others? Kíli?”
Amidst the confused muttering, Fíli heard Kíli’s voice reply. “Fíli? I’m over here.”
Fíli’s eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness again and he reached for Bofur’s arm to pull him towards Kíli. To his surprise, he noticed a bruise forming on Bofur’s arm.
“Where did you get that bruise from?” Fíli asked as they made their way over to Kíli.
“I probably got hit by a twig when running,” Bofur said without looking at the bruise. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt.”
“What happened to the feast and the elves?” Kíli asked when they reached him. “They were right here, the Elvenking with a crown of orange leaves on his head singing such a beautiful song...”
By now Fíli had fully regained his sight. The wistful look on Kíli’s face nearly turned his stomach.
“That’s just the kind of sorcery elves are fond of,” Thorin thundered and Fíli felt a sudden surge of relief that Thorin had followed them despite his misgivings. “Elves will enchant you with their singing, wine and sweet words and then it will all just turn out to be a mirage. That’s why you can’t trust them. Now we need to return to the path before we can’t find...”
“Look! There they are!” Glóin shouted, pointing. “We just stopped too quickly!”
“No, stay here! It’s not real!” Thorin shouted, but clearly Fíli’s uncle had to be mistaken. The feast was right there, waiting for them. Once they had finally satisfied their hunger and drank as much wine as they wished, they would be able to join the dancing and perhaps teach the elves some new songs.
Fíli rushed towards the feast with all the others, not caring that he tore open his hand on a stump when tripping. Blood dripping from his hand, he raced into the brightly lit clearing, only to be enveloped by darkness again. Somebody ran into him, cursing as they both crashed to the ground.
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