Chapter 61: Mirkwood

[General POV]

The rays of the sun illuminated the blue sky, birds gracefully soared above, and the warm sunlight cast the shadow of a group riding across a vast open field. It was clear they were the members of the expedition, having left Beor's house behind weeks ago.

During these weeks, they hadn't worried about being pursued by orcs, as killing the creature that was watching them had given them a substantial advantage. It was certain that the orcs believed they were still at Beor's house, since their informant hadn't returned with any news. Moreover, the orcs were too foolish to suspect anything was amiss.

Perhaps Bolg would have thought otherwise, but he had left one of the orcs in charge of spying on the dwarves and informing him when they left Beorn's house. He was too occupied with planning Aldril's assassination, following the orders given by his father, to investigate if something was wrong.

As the weeks passed, the great Mirkwood could be seen in the distance. From afar, it was evident that the forest was enormous, with large trees covering everything in their path, leaving no openings. Even from a distance, Gandalf could sense the great evil that permeated what was once a lush, green forest.

As he rode, Aldril observed the forest in the distance, many thoughts running through his mind as they approached. He wasn't concerned about the wood elves capturing the group as they did in the original plot, nor about them being stripped of their weapons, as Legolas had done with Thorin's sword.

His swords couldn't be taken from him, as he would hide them in his storage ring. In the worst-case scenario, if an elf tried to take them by force, the swords would respond aggressively.

As Glorfindel had told him, his swords were too special for just anyone to wield. He mentioned that if someone tried to take them, the swords, having a will of their own, would be capable of repelling with fervor, creating a wave that would fling anyone who tried to take them from their owner into the air.

In the worst case, they could induce a state that might lead to suicide. The swords would only show slight reluctance when the bearer offered them for inspection, as had happened with Gandalf, Elrond, and Glorfindel.

Glorfindel also mentioned that they would have the same ability as the axe Dramborleg, which was wielded by his ancestor Tuor. Stained with the blood of countless enemies, including innumerable slain Balrogs, it had the power to return to its chosen bearer, no matter the distance, thanks to the blessing of the Vala Ulmo.

This axe was inherited by his great-grandfather Eärendil, who then passed it on to his grandfather Elros. Along with King Thingol's sword, Aranrúth, it was a precious relic of Númenor, passed down from king to king. It was a shame that both were buried beneath the ruins of Númenor.

Yes, Glorfindel had told him about this, which is why he had spent almost the entire day with him, learning about the history of Middle-earth. There was still much to be told, and that's why he was eager to return to Rivendell. Glorfindel even suggested he venture to those parts, hinting that Aldril might receive a surprise once he arrived.

"He promised to give me an ancient map, so at least I'll know where Númenor was," he murmured. Glorfindel had spoken of many things, among them that he could sense the same adventurous spirit in Aldril as in his mother. For this reason, he offered him an ancient map that showed locations no longer found today.

Aldril was grateful for this, as it would allow him to explore Tolkien's world and experience all its magnificence firsthand, to discover with excitement places not mentioned in the films.

He also mentioned that his mother had managed to find the creatures from which dragons originated, those that were kidnapped and corrupted by Morgoth, giving birth to these evil dragons.

Aldril wanted to ask more, but Glorfindel knew little else. He only mentioned that his mother once said.

"Only those blessed by the stars will find this hidden place."

Glorfindel concluded that only those with the grace of Vala Varda could find this place, so he was certain that Aldril, also having the same blessing, would find it and discover another companion to join him on his adventure.

Aldril was surprised that Glorfindel knew about Vala Varda's blessing and spoke as if prophesying that he would have companions on his journey.

But he quickly dismissed the thought, as the excitement of learning more about these creatures distracted him, a flaw he would need to change.

Yet, in a way, his excitement was valid. What fan of LOTR wouldn't be thrilled? He wondered, recalling that conversation.

What are these creatures like? Will they be like the dragons? Shaking his head, he focused as they neared Mirkwood, knowing it wasn't wise to be distracted. 'All in due time,' he told himself.

***

The autumn sun rose gracefully into the sky, shining with a warm light. The wind was gentle, and the breeze brushed against the faces of the team members.

The slight chill in the air hinted at the approaching winter, signalling the end of autumn and the shortening of their time to reach their destination. Fortunately, they still had time if everything went according to plan.

The members of the expedition gazed in awe at the enormous trees that covered the entirety of Mirkwood. They had arrived just a few minutes ago, and their journey had been pleasant without the interference of those vile orcs. It was likely that those fools still hadn't realised that they had left Beor's house long ago.

"Is this Mirkwood?" Kili asked. As one of the younger dwarves, it was logical that he had never seen these places, having grown up far from them. After all, when he was born, the dwarves had already fled Erebor.

"I remember Mum telling us that this place was dangerous," Fili said, standing beside his brother. Their mother had told them many stories when they were young, about Erebor and its halls filled with gold, as well as Mirkwood, a dangerous forest they should be wary of.

"Hey Gandalf, is it normal for it to look so withered?" Ori asked cautiously, noting that many of the trees appeared withered, as if all their vitality had been drained.

"No, it's not normal," Gandalf replied with a serious expression. It seemed that the dark power had spread; he could feel it. The malign magic continued to advance, and if nothing was done, the forest would be entirely consumed, a sign that Sauron was still lurking in the ruins of Dol Guldur.

"Gather your things and release the horses," Thorin reminded those who were staring at the forest in a trance. His voice snapped many of the dwarves out of their reverie, prompting them to start unloading their belongings from the horses.

Aldril, for his part, had already stored all his belongings in his ring, so he simply released his horse, giving it a pat on the rump. With a neigh, the horse turned and headed back to Beor. It only took a few minutes for everyone else to do the same, and with everything prepared, they followed Gandalf, who led them to the entrance.

Rotten ground and withered branches adorned the entrance, presenting an unpleasant sight. Aldril felt the wind grow colder and experienced discomfort as he stepped into the entrance—something Gandalf noticed. Walking beside him, Gandalf said in a low voice, "It's the dark magic causing the discomfort; it has spread quite a bit since I was last here."

"Is there any way to ease this feeling of discomfort?" Aldril asked. Gandalf looked at him with a smile and replied, "Only by eliminating the root of this evil."

Aldril understood what Gandalf meant. If he remembered correctly, Sauron had caused this dark magic to spread with his presence, a testament to the power he wielded. At that moment, Anguirel glowed softly, dispelling the uncomfortable feeling.

"Ah, that's better," Aldril murmured, cracking his neck. Gandalf was slightly impressed, as few objects could repel such dark magic, and those that could were mostly in the hands of the Istari.

"Well, you don't have to worry about that uncomfortable feeling anymore," Gandalf chuckled lightly as he walked towards the dwarves, who had huddled together, clearly sensing the change in the atmosphere. The only solution they could think of to counteract it was to bunch up.

Gandalf stood before the dwarves, observing the elven ruins, and then turned to face them. "This is the elves' gate, and this is the path that will allow you to pass through all of Mirkwood."

"Something feels wrong in this forest. Isn't there another way?" Glóin asked, unconsciously pulling out his axe and gripping it tightly against his chest, a clear sign of the fear he felt. Unlike his son, Glóin was easily frightened by eerie environments like this one.

"By going around the forest, but it would take months, and Durin's Day is approaching. I don't want to waste any more time," Thorin responded, rejecting the idea of finding another way to cross the forest.

He felt uneasy, but this feeling wouldn't stop him from moving forward and reaching his destination. After all, they were close to his homeland.

Unlike the other dwarves, who were more focused on the forest, Bilbo paid attention to what Gandalf had said. "It will allow us? You're not coming with us?" he asked nervously.

His question silenced the dwarves, who had been murmuring amongst themselves, causing them all to focus on Gandalf. They now noticed that there was still one horse left, the one Gandalf was riding.

Gandalf looked at them seriously. "I wouldn't want to, but I have something important to attend to." As he walked towards his horse, he stopped beside Aldril and said in a low voice, "Be careful. I hope to see you alive when I return. And keep an eye on Thorin." This conversation took only a few seconds, and no one else heard it.

Gandalf gave Aldril a firm pat on the shoulder before mounting his horse. Before leaving, he turned to them one last time and reminded them, "This is no longer the greenwood it once was. The dark magic that surrounds it has made it dangerous, the air inside causes hallucinations, no matter what happens, do not stray from the path; if you do, you will be lost. And be very careful with the river, it's cursed, don't drink or touch the water, or something terrible will happen to you." With those final words, he turned his horse and rode off into the distance.

Aldril and Bilbo watched for a few moments as Gandalf grew smaller in the distance, only to be interrupted by Thorin's irritated voice. "Let's move. We don't have time to waste." It was clear he was annoyed that Gandalf had left them, but what could he do? At least Gandalf had fulfilled his promise to bring them this far.

With determined steps, the group ventured deeper into Mirkwood. As the minutes passed and they delved further in, the sky grew darker, making it incredibly difficult to see ahead. Fortunately, everyone stayed in line, with Aldril leading the way at Thorin's request, as he was unaffected by the darkness.

"I can't see a damn thing!" Dwalin shouted in frustration. The only thing he could make out were the vague shapes of the others and the faint light emitted by Aldril's sword.

Anguirel, sensing the dark magic around, protected its bearer and served as a beacon for the dwarves behind.

"It's the clouds; they're covering the sun. It's probably going to rain," Aldril replied. Initially, there had been no problems with the dim light filtering through the gaps in the trees, but now, with the clouds blocking the sun, the path became even more challenging. Without Aldril, they would have been lost long ago.

"I hate this damn weather," Glóin grumbled, though his voice betrayed his nervousness. The darkness clearly unnerved him, and it was lucky that the glow from Aldril's sword provided some light; otherwise, he might have gone mad.

"I'm looking forward to seeing the Lonely Mountain," Ori said, trying to start a conversation and lighten the tense atmosphere. His spirits hadn't dampened, despite barely being able to see the person in front of him.

"You'll be amazed when you see it," replied Balin, or at least, that's the voice Ori thought he heard, as the person in front of him was actually Glóin.

"Is it true there are halls filled with gold?" Fili asked, encouraged by the improved mood to verify if what his mother had told him was true.

This time, Thorin responded in his usual serious tone, "Yes, countless treasures await in the depths." At the mention of this, Thorin's eyes briefly gleamed with a flicker of madness, his face contorting into a momentary expression of obsession.

However, he quickly regained his composure, and no one noticed the change due to the darkness, a sign that the sickness was beginning to show.

The group continued talking, and the atmosphere lightened a bit, buoyed by the fact that the Lonely Mountain wasn't far away, further lifting their spirits.

Only Aldril and Bilbo remained silent, the former because he was focused on the path, and the latter because he felt disheartened by Gandalf's absence.

The group advanced cautiously. At some point, it began to rain, wetting the path and forcing everyone to tread more carefully. Aldril occasionally stopped to clear leaves and mud that blocked the way.

He noticed that the forest was extremely withered; the earth was unnaturally dark, as if a fire had burned it to ash, leaving behind a barren landscape. These blackened patches emitted an unpleasant odor.

At one point, Bofur suddenly shouted, "I'm feeling dizzy!"

His outburst caused Thorin to stop Aldril, concerned. "Hold on, Aldril. It's getting harder to breathe; let the others catch their breath." He then turned to Balin, who was behind him. "How are you feeling, Balin?" he asked with some worry.

"I felt a bit dizzy, but it's nothing I can't handle," Balin replied, shaking his head.

"Are you sure we're on the right path?" Dwalin shouted from the back.

"We're on the right track. Take a break and try to breathe slowly!" Aldril called back.

"What a relief," Bombur murmured, plopping down on the ground, his large frame sinking into the earth. He tried to get oxygen into his lungs. It was difficult, but by breathing slowly, his breathing problem gradually eased.

After a few minutes of rest, the team members were able to breathe more easily, though still with difficulty. This didn't stop them from continuing their journey. Hours passed, and the group eventually reached an arched stone bridge, only to find that half of it was broken, blocking their path. Below, a dark river flowed sluggishly.

"Damn it, the bridge is broken," Aldril muttered. At some point, the rain had stopped, and the clouds had dispersed slightly, giving the group better visibility. The others now saw the broken bridge as well.

"Gandalf didn't mention it was broken," Bilbo murmured.

"Damn it, who could have done this?" Glóin growled.

"Probably those damn elves," Dwalin mocked, his distaste for elves evident to everyone in the group.

"No problem, we can swim across," Bombur suggested as he approached the riverbank.

Bilbo immediately shouted, preventing Bombur from doing something foolish. "No! Don't you remember Gandalf said to be careful of the river because it's cursed? We need to find another way to cross."

"There's a boat on the shore. We can use that," Aldril said, pointing to a small vessel anchored nearby. He didn't recall there being one in the movie, but having grown accustomed to the changes, he didn't dwell on it.

"Good, we'll cross in groups of six," Thorin responded. "Quickly, we mustn't waste time." Despite their dizziness, the dwarves followed orders.

Aldril, being in the best condition and the strongest physically, rowed the boat, making two trips since Bilbo, being so small, didn't take up much space.

On the second trip, as they neared the shore, Bombur, driven by curiosity about the black water, made a foolish mistake. He dipped his hand into the water, and almost instantly, he fell asleep. His heavy weight caused him to fall into the river, sending the dwarves into a panic.

"No! Bombur! Wake up!" Bofur screamed, helplessly watching as Bombur floated away from the shore.

"Damn it! Bofur, row! I'm going after Bombur!" Aldril shouted, diving into the water to rescue him. As his body touched the water, a chilling sensation washed over him. Anguirel and Anglachel, the swords he carried, began to glow intensely on his back, clearly protecting him from the river's powerful dark magic.

With his strong constitution, Aldril quickly swam to reach Bombur. He grabbed him and began swimming back to the shore, cursing under his breath, "You damn fool! How could you fall asleep at a time like this?" Aldril didn't realize that Bombur's sudden sleep was due to the river's curse, attributing it instead to the dark magic.

As he swam, something suddenly snagged his foot, or rather, something grabbed hold of him, preventing him from moving forward. It felt as if something was trying to pull him down. His two swords suddenly emitted an intense light and released a shockwave.

"Boom!"

The wave spread across the entire river, and whatever had been holding him let go, allowing him to swim faster towards the shore. In just a few seconds, he reached the bank, hoisting Bombur's heavy body onto his shoulder. He carried the unconscious dwarf away from the river and laid him down on the ground.

"Ugh, what was that?" Aldril muttered as he wiped the water from his face. It had been a strange experience, as if something was trying to drag him to the bottom. He was fortunate that his swords had saved him at that moment. Now, he realized they could also protect him from dark magic. 'Without a doubt, the best swords in Middle-earth,' he thought.

Frowning, Aldril noticed the sudden silence. He looked up to find that the dwarves who had been with him just moments ago were now gone, even Bilbo had disappeared. The only one left was Bombur, who was snoring like a pig.

"These idiots!" Aldril growled, clearly irritated. It seemed the same thing had happened as in the original storyline, though it was strange because, in his opinion, the dwarves were in better condition than they had been in the movie.

"I have no choice but to find them," he said to himself. Quickly, he hoisted Bombur's heavy body onto his back. He couldn't leave him lying there in this cursed forest. One of those giant spiders might wrap him in a web and carry him away, so it was best to carry him along. Fortunately, for Aldril and his immense strength, Bombur wasn't that heavy.

As Aldril moved through the forest with Bombur on his back, he saw a distant figure, a beautiful white stag, its brightness illuminating the dark forest. It was an unusual sight, such a magnificent creature living in this dreary woodland.

This was the same stag that had appeared to Bilbo and Thorin in the movie, a creature sacred to the Wood Elves. It was said to bring luck to those who saw it, but if someone attacked it, well, the consequences were dire, as shown when Thorin shot it with an arrow and later met his end at the Battle of the Five Armies.

The stag, unafraid, began to approach Aldril slowly. Clearly surprised, Aldril made no sudden movements, allowing the stag to come closer.

Step by step, it drew nearer until it stood right in front of him.

The stag began to sniff Aldril, who, enchanted by the animal's beauty, carefully extended his hand. The stag, noticing his intentions, allowed Aldril to stroke it. "How soft," he thought as he felt the stag's fur beneath his fingers.

After a moment, the stag moved away from Aldril's touch, turning its back to him and walking in a specific direction.

At first, Aldril didn't understand, but when the stag stopped and looked back at him, he realised it wanted him to follow. Adjusting Bombur on his shoulder, Aldril followed the stag, which led him back to the stone path they had lost earlier.

The stag halted halfway down the path, turning to look at him once more. It was as if it was telling him this was the correct way to go. Aldril nodded in gratitude. "Thank you," he said quietly. The stag, having fulfilled its purpose, disappeared into the forest, vanishing from Aldril's sight. "How strange," he murmured.

As he continued along the path, he suddenly stopped, remembering that he had forgotten to search for the others. "Damn it, I forgot I had to find them," he muttered in frustration.

Just as he was about to turn back, his instincts warned him of danger. He leapt back, narrowly avoiding an arrow that struck the spot where he had just been standing. He quickly set Bombur down and looked in the direction from which the arrow had come.

There, in a tree, was a stunning figure. Her red hair contrasted with the soft sunlight filtering through the trees. Unlike the elves he had seen in Rivendell, this one surpassed them in beauty, particularly in the fullness of her chest, which was notably larger than that of a typical elf. Even her fitted outfit couldn't conceal her perfect curves.

If Aldril had been a virgin otaku, he might have been mesmerised like those fools who become entranced at the sight of a beautiful woman. But of course, he wasn't like them. Yes, the elf was incredibly beautiful, but she had attacked him, so he quickly assumed a defensive stance, drawing Anguirel from its sheath, which continued to glow.

The elf observed Aldril in surprise as he drew a sword that looked exceedingly familiar to her. With agility, she nocked another arrow to her bow. As the captain of the scouting party, she had learned patience and not to act impulsively, so she asked in a cold voice.

"That sword cannot be wielded by a mere human. Where did you find it, or whom did you steal it from?"

Aldril, realising that a dialogue was possible, answered without lowering his guard, "It's my mother's sword. Why do you ask?"

Unlike those arrogant protagonists who would retort with a, "Why should I tell you?" Aldril was more patient and open to dialogue if it could avoid unnecessary conflict.

Not everything needed to be resolved through fighting, especially when simply answering could avert a whole drama.

The elf, upon hearing his response, widened her eyes in shock. Her hands trembled, and the arrow she had drawn fell to the ground. Clearly surprised and with her eyes slightly clouded, she asked in a trembling voice

"Are you.... Lady Tindómiel's...son?"****

Nasty orcs! here's your chapter!

Additional note: There was a mistake in one of the chapters, Thalwen does know who Tauriel's father is, I have already corrected it.

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