The Path Through Mirkwood: 1 - The Wasp
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.
Written as a fill for this prompt on the hobbit kink meme.
Chapter 1: The Wasp
Moisture hung in the air as Fíli sharpened his swords. He tried to ignore the dripping of the trees around him, vast, looming shapes in the twilit forest. In every other situation, Fíli would have thought it to be a rainy nightfall, but this was Mirkwood. The gloom had been much the same ever since they entered it on a sunny morning, which seemed years ago. Balin said it had only been six days.
The gloom was doing nobody’s temper any favours and the reason Fíli had moved away from the company had been an argument with his uncle. Fíli couldn’t even remember what had started it, but there had been shouting and Fíli thought fists might have flown for the first time ever between them if Dwalin and Bofur had not held them back.
They had come to a stop shortly afterwards for a brief rest and lunch. Fíli had walked a few steps away to avoid the awkward silence. He had decided to sharpen his swords, just to have something to stop his hands from shaking in anger.
The others were within sight, not that there was much choice when they couldn’t leave the path. He crouched on the mossy ground, not wanting to lean against one of the slimy tree trunks. From time to time, a drop of water hit him and Fíli flinched. There was an occasional rustling in the forest and sometimes, he noticed some of the glowing eyes watching him from in between the foliage. They always disappeared as soon as he looked at them. The company had long since realized the eyes posed no immediate danger, but they still set everyone on edge.
The clanking of spoons against bowls drifted over to Fíli and he knew he would soon have to return to the group to eat.
There was a rustling above him. Fíli looked up. The trails of lichen that hung from the trees like long, greenish beards swung slightly but there was nothing else to be seen. Perhaps there was a breeze up there, Fíli thought. A breeze would be wonderful; they were all tired of the stifling, motionless air. Fíli had thought they would quickly stop noticing the smell of old leaves and mould, but they didn’t.
Fíli wanted to return to sharpening his sword but he noticed Bofur making his way towards him. Bofur was balancing two steaming bowls and Fíli smiled despite himself. Trust his fiancée to give him a few more minutes of quiet before he had to return to the presence of his uncle.
Bofur returned his smile and Fíli found himself reminded of just how much he loved those dimples and the crinkles at the corners of Bofur’s eyes.
And then Bofur’s smile faded into a horrified expression.
“Behind you, Fíli! Look out!”
Before Fíli could turn around, he felt something settle on his head and there was a sharp pain between his neck and his head.
Bofur ran towards him, hurling the bowls he carried at whatever was attacking Fíli. Fíli was hit with his share of hot soup as well, but before Fíli could even raise his arms, his attacker let go. And then he saw it.
The largest wasp Fíli had ever seen flew towards Bofur. It was entirely black and almost the length of Fíli’s lower arm. Fíli wanted to grab his swords and jump up to rush to Bofur’s aid, but his legs crumbled beneath him and would not obey. His swords slipped from his hands and as he sagged sideways, Fíli could only watch helplessly as Bofur tried to defend himself against the wasp.
Bofur had forgotten his mattock with the others and it didn’t take long before the wasp managed to sting Bofur’s neck as well. Bofur sagged to the ground and his hat slid off. The wasp had to take to the air briefly. It repositioned itself and sunk its stinger into Bofur’s flesh again, this time between his shoulder blades.
Suddenly, Fíli’s field of vision was filled with shouting dwarves, swinging swords and axes. The wasp must have flown away since the dwarves spread out. Fíli guessed they were forming a protective circle around him and Bofur. Kíli crouched down in front of Fíli.
“Are you alright, Fíli?”
Fíli wanted to answer, but his muscles would not move.
“Fíli? Say something, Fíli! Oh, Mahal!” Kíli reeled back. “I think he’s dead!”
Dwalin came into view and crouched in front of Fíli, while Kíli’s panicked babbling continued. There was a hand on Fíli’s wrist and one hovering in front of his nose and mouth.
“No lad, he’s breathing and has a pulse. He’s alive.”
“So is Bofur,” came Óin’s voice. Fíli felt the weight of an entire mountain lift from his heart.
“We need to move!” Thorin commanded. “We don’t know if it is coming back. Dwalin, you carry Fíli. Dori, take Bofur. Everybody else, the supplies, and keep an eye out in case that thing returns. Move!”
Fíli was lifted onto Dwalin’s shoulders like a sack of coal. He felt oddly relaxed, even though he knew the position ought to be uncomfortable. The moss- and fungus-covered tree trunks rushed by in a dark green whirr. Fíli still couldn’t move, but he felt oddly calm. Being jostled on Dwalin’s back made him drowsy and he wondered if it was perhaps a side effect of the sting. Fíli found he didn’t care and started nodding off.
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.
Written as a fill for this prompt on the hobbit kink meme.
Chapter 1: The Wasp
Moisture hung in the air as Fíli sharpened his swords. He tried to ignore the dripping of the trees around him, vast, looming shapes in the twilit forest. In every other situation, Fíli would have thought it to be a rainy nightfall, but this was Mirkwood. The gloom had been much the same ever since they entered it on a sunny morning, which seemed years ago. Balin said it had only been six days.
The gloom was doing nobody’s temper any favours and the reason Fíli had moved away from the company had been an argument with his uncle. Fíli couldn’t even remember what had started it, but there had been shouting and Fíli thought fists might have flown for the first time ever between them if Dwalin and Bofur had not held them back.
They had come to a stop shortly afterwards for a brief rest and lunch. Fíli had walked a few steps away to avoid the awkward silence. He had decided to sharpen his swords, just to have something to stop his hands from shaking in anger.
The others were within sight, not that there was much choice when they couldn’t leave the path. He crouched on the mossy ground, not wanting to lean against one of the slimy tree trunks. From time to time, a drop of water hit him and Fíli flinched. There was an occasional rustling in the forest and sometimes, he noticed some of the glowing eyes watching him from in between the foliage. They always disappeared as soon as he looked at them. The company had long since realized the eyes posed no immediate danger, but they still set everyone on edge.
The clanking of spoons against bowls drifted over to Fíli and he knew he would soon have to return to the group to eat.
There was a rustling above him. Fíli looked up. The trails of lichen that hung from the trees like long, greenish beards swung slightly but there was nothing else to be seen. Perhaps there was a breeze up there, Fíli thought. A breeze would be wonderful; they were all tired of the stifling, motionless air. Fíli had thought they would quickly stop noticing the smell of old leaves and mould, but they didn’t.
Fíli wanted to return to sharpening his sword but he noticed Bofur making his way towards him. Bofur was balancing two steaming bowls and Fíli smiled despite himself. Trust his fiancée to give him a few more minutes of quiet before he had to return to the presence of his uncle.
Bofur returned his smile and Fíli found himself reminded of just how much he loved those dimples and the crinkles at the corners of Bofur’s eyes.
And then Bofur’s smile faded into a horrified expression.
“Behind you, Fíli! Look out!”
Before Fíli could turn around, he felt something settle on his head and there was a sharp pain between his neck and his head.
Bofur ran towards him, hurling the bowls he carried at whatever was attacking Fíli. Fíli was hit with his share of hot soup as well, but before Fíli could even raise his arms, his attacker let go. And then he saw it.
The largest wasp Fíli had ever seen flew towards Bofur. It was entirely black and almost the length of Fíli’s lower arm. Fíli wanted to grab his swords and jump up to rush to Bofur’s aid, but his legs crumbled beneath him and would not obey. His swords slipped from his hands and as he sagged sideways, Fíli could only watch helplessly as Bofur tried to defend himself against the wasp.
Bofur had forgotten his mattock with the others and it didn’t take long before the wasp managed to sting Bofur’s neck as well. Bofur sagged to the ground and his hat slid off. The wasp had to take to the air briefly. It repositioned itself and sunk its stinger into Bofur’s flesh again, this time between his shoulder blades.
Suddenly, Fíli’s field of vision was filled with shouting dwarves, swinging swords and axes. The wasp must have flown away since the dwarves spread out. Fíli guessed they were forming a protective circle around him and Bofur. Kíli crouched down in front of Fíli.
“Are you alright, Fíli?”
Fíli wanted to answer, but his muscles would not move.
“Fíli? Say something, Fíli! Oh, Mahal!” Kíli reeled back. “I think he’s dead!”
Dwalin came into view and crouched in front of Fíli, while Kíli’s panicked babbling continued. There was a hand on Fíli’s wrist and one hovering in front of his nose and mouth.
“No lad, he’s breathing and has a pulse. He’s alive.”
“So is Bofur,” came Óin’s voice. Fíli felt the weight of an entire mountain lift from his heart.
“We need to move!” Thorin commanded. “We don’t know if it is coming back. Dwalin, you carry Fíli. Dori, take Bofur. Everybody else, the supplies, and keep an eye out in case that thing returns. Move!”
Fíli was lifted onto Dwalin’s shoulders like a sack of coal. He felt oddly relaxed, even though he knew the position ought to be uncomfortable. The moss- and fungus-covered tree trunks rushed by in a dark green whirr. Fíli still couldn’t move, but he felt oddly calm. Being jostled on Dwalin’s back made him drowsy and he wondered if it was perhaps a side effect of the sting. Fíli found he didn’t care and started nodding off.
Chapter Index <> Next Chapter