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Me gusta leer, cocinar, jugar videojuegos (Principalmente Legend of Zelda y Doom 2), ordenar mi biblioteca, y descargar más podcast de los que realmente puedo escuchar en 24 horas.

29/10/13

Especial – Fanfic crossover Hobbit x Slender Man

Confieso que aún no he jugado al flacucho, a ver en que siglo me pongo a ello. Mientras tanto disfrutemos de este estupendo fanfic el cual queda como anillo al dedo en estas fechas. 

Nuestro hobbit Bilbo, así como Thorin y el resto de los enanos inician su incursión en el bosque Negro, se dice que en dicho lugar hay toda clase de criaturas repugnantes como elfos (Thorin: ASI ES!!), arañas, o ríos hechizados, pero además en el se oculta un ser del cual poco se sabe, es mejor nunca nombrarlo y evitar de todas formas el verlo. 

NOTA: Este fanfic NO contiene BL así que pueden leerlo con toda tranquilidad… en lo que cabe, digo, aparece Slender Man. 

(La imagen original es un wallpaper de Slender Man creado por griffindoor-d5ad1ya , yo la desgracie al incluir a Bilbo, Thorin y Dori, no le hice justicia ciertamente y la proporción estarán algo raras)






Thin Man
by
 Sir Nemo

It had finally stopped raining, so Thorin ordered them to move as fast as they could. Ever since they had lost their horses the trekking had became increasingly difficult and slow, which affected the whole party. The dwarves were more silent, more irritated, and especially in Thorin's case, grumpy. The songs and the little games were gone from their talk. Gandalf had refused to come with them to the Mirkwood, stating that he had gone with them far enough. And Bilbo, well, Bilbo was feeling more miserable with each passing day, but he didn't say it, as there was absolutely no one who would have liked to hear it. His feet ached, and the mood of the party was bringing him down. It was like a heavy blanket on him, drowning him.
Bilbo had taken walking with Ori, for the young dwarf was one of the less depressing people to be around these days. They didn't talk all that much, but the atmosphere was more relaxed, than if Bilbo had walked with Thorin or any other dwarves.
They were crossing an open space, heading towards Mirkwood, a large patch of dark, uninviting forest in front of, and surrounding them. There seemed to be more and more of trees around these days, but Bilbo took it as a sign of their journey nearing its end. The forests around here were darker than back in Shire, the trees seemed taller, and almost alive. It made Bilbo restless.
While the rest of his companion focused their eyes either straight ahead or to the ground, Bilbo let his eyes wander on the edges of the woods, searching for what, he did not know. He almost missed it the first time his gaze passed the old oak tree on a small hill ahead of them. It was a flicker of almost like movement, that made him look again. There, in the shadow of the tall tree, obscured by the branches moving in the wind. The shadowy tall figure could have been a tree, but its body was darker than the shadows and there might been a face among the leaves, staring at them.
Bilbo turned to Ori, planning to ask his opinion about the possible man in the trees, but as soon as he turned towards his companion, from the corner of his eye he saw that the movement was back, but when he turned his head towards the woods again the figure was gone, if it had been there in the first place.
”Bilbo?” Ori asked, his voice soft and polite, and Bilbo realized that he had stopped walking. ”What is it?”
Bilbo turned to Ori, who was giving him a curious look, and smiled.
”Nothing. I think.”
The wind was picking up, and when Bilbo turned to look at the tree one last time, the leaves were falling down to the empty ground.
- - -
He forgot about the figure by the oak tree, and was only reminded by its existence when they made the camp for the night. They had decided on a small clearance on top of a hill, surrounded by woods Nori and Dori were putting on a fire, while Kili and Fili had gone to look for food.
Bilbo was sitting on a log by the fire, trying to light his pipe. The last bout of rain had gone through his jacket and managed to dampen his tobacco, and the darned thing wouldn't light. He finally gave up with a sigh, and pocketed the thing. Glóin, who had sat down next to him, gave his arm a sympathetic pat. The rest of the dwarves were settling down too, except for Thorin, who was doing his best glare at the trees around them.
”We need to put extra guards up this night,” Thorin said. ”We have to stay alert. There is something wrong with this forest.”
”What are we expecting?” Dwalin asked.
”Everything. Orcs, beasts, elves.”
”Men?” Bilbo blurted. All of the dwarves turned to look at him.
”Where have you seen men?” Thorin asked.
”It's... It's probably nothing, but I thought I saw, by the edge of the forest, a man in black.”
”And you are sure it was a man?”
”I'm not sure it was anything. It could have been just a shadow. It seemed pretty tall for a man, but I
don't think it was an elf. Elves don't wear black do they?”

Thorin frowned, and his dark eyes were filled with worry, Bilbo could not quite understand.
”Alright,” he finally huffed. ”We'll keep an eye on men in black too. And Bilbo, if you see him again, tell someone, immediately.”
Bilbo was confused, but Thorin did not look at him again, and soon Kili and Fili returned with a few rabbits, and all thoughts of tall men in black were ignored for the sake of good food, and the warmth of the fire.
- - -
That night Bilbo dreamed of a thin man in black, standing just outside their campfire's reach, all silent and unmoving. It was no man, it was too tall, too thin, but it was no elf either. Bilbo tried to speak, tell Bofur, who was sitting just by him, on guard with Bifur, that it was there. But his mouth would not open.
Then the wind picked up couple of sparks and carried them towards the silent being, and for a moment its face was lit up. Or, in fact lack of face. It looked like the thing was wearing a blank mask, like one of these Bilbo had seen among the traveling theater groups that occasionally visited Shire.
Then the darkness resumed, but the man was there, and even in Bilbo's dream, the fire burned his eyes.
- - -
The following day went on in a bit of a haze for Bilbo. Because of the dream, Bilbo felt like he hadn't slept at all, and he almost fell asleep during breakfast, when he stopped chewing.
The dwarves noticed, but the forest pressured them into silence. But Ori walked a little closer to him than usual when they continued their journey, and Bilbo was thankful for the hand hovering close by when he stumbled on the roots.
When he tried to keep his eyes focused on the ground the little hairs on his neck prickled up. Someone was watching.
”I think he's here,” he whispered. ”The man.” Ori didn't answer, but placed a warm hand on his arm, and it made him feel a little better. The other dwarves were walking closer together too. It could have been the forest, almost eerily silent, or it could have been the fact that from the corner of his eye every tree looked like a tall man in black to Bilbo.
Ori leaned closer to him, and whispered:
”What does he look like?”

Bilbo turned to look at the figure in the corner of his eye and it turned out to be just a tree. He shook his head, more to himself, but Ori's curious gaze was still on him, so he gave up and leaned closer, and whispered to the dwarf's ear:
”He's this... This really tall person. I don't think he's a man, he's too tall, tall as a tree. And his arms are thin like branches of trees, as are his legs. And he doesn't have a face. Where, where it should be there's just nothing, just white, no nose, no eyes no mouth, just white.”
Ori looked at him, waiting for more, but Bilbo shook his head. There was no more he could say about the subject.
They continued to walk in silence, and Bilbo knew he was there, watching them.
- - -
When they sat down that night, the clearance looked the same to Bilbo as had the last one, but the dwarves looked quite pleased with their progress, so Bilbo deduced that it was not indeed the same place as yesterday. Ori seemed to be glued to his side, ever since he told him about the strange man that seemed to be following them. His eyes were curious and worried, and when they sat down Bilbo noticed that Thorin was giving him the same look as Ori was.
Ori was pulling his pens and books out of his back.
”I thought the, the thing you described to me seemed interesting,” Ori said, bending over the paper and starting to skecth something. Bilbo followed him with mild curiosity. Soon Ori shoved the paper to Bilbo's hand.
”Did it look anything like that?”
On the paper was a rough sketch of couple of trees and between them stood a lonely featureless figure, that could have been a shadow, if it wasn't for the head on the thin shoulders that could have been just lights playing on the treetops. Bilbo stared at the drawing in quiet wonder.
”It, it... Yes.”
That was when Thorin stood up from his place next to the fireplace and started towards them.
”Can I see.”
It wasn't a question, not exactly so Bilbo handed Thorin the paper. Thorin stared at it with a deep frown on his face. Then he tore the paper up.
”Have you wrote about him? In your book?” Thorin didn't even give Ori time to answer. ”Erase it. Every single word. Now.”
Ori didn't even complain. He opened his book and ripped off a couple of the pages passing them to Thorin, who tore them too. The sigh Ori let out with each paper torn had a whisper of heartbreak in it.
”What is going on?” Bilbo asked. Thorin turned away, towards the fire. The other dwarves had not noticed anything, as they were engrossed with a story Balin was telling them. This seemed to satisfy Thorin as he sat down, and for a moment just glared at the pieces of paper in his hands.
”I know what's after you,” he finally said.
”Us? After us, you mean?” Bilbo said.
”No, not yet. After you two.” Thorin took a deep breath, it was clear he was trying his best not to look around him, and Bilbo had never seen him so visibly agitated. ”Men's legends speak of the Slender One. He is spoken about in whispers, and in my time as a blacksmith few reached me. He dwells in the forests, just like this. No one knows if he is just an elf gone wrong or something much more sinister. Mostly because people who have got close enough for him have never lived to tell the tale. But one thing all of the legends agree on: if you see him, he will come after you.”
The night air around them felt suddenly a lot chillier than before and Bilbo caught himself just in time before he turned to look over his shoulder at the darkness behind them. Ori was fiddling with his scarf, avoiding Thorin's gaze.
”So we are in trouble then?” he said.
”We can get out of here alive,” Thorin simply answered. ”Do not mention any of this to the others. If they know of him, they will start seeing him, and right now the less people he's after the better. Ori, you will sleep between your brothers tonight, and Bilbo, I will order Kili and Fili to sleep next to you. And if you do wake up in the middle of the night, whatever you do, don't open your eyes. It's only couple more days before we're out of the forest.”
Neither Bilbo nor Ori said anything, but Ori was still fiddling with his scarf, restless. Thorin reached out and put his hand on Ori's shoulder, in a comforting gesture. If it did do any good, Thorin didn't wait to see it. He gave Bilbo a thin smile and stood up, and was just about to retreat to the others, when Bilbo finally spoke his mind, his voice soft and hardly audible:
”You said that only people who know of him see him, well... Have you? Have you seen him?”
Thorin was silent for a long while, his face turned towards the woods, but eyes on the ground, and his expression was hidden by the shadows. Bilbo was starting to think Thorin wouldn't answer, but finally the dwarf looked at Bilbo and said:
”Not yet.”
With that Thorin turned his back on the two, and Bilbo felt cold.
- - -
As promised, when Bilbo was setting down his bedroll for the night, Fili and Kili suddenly appeared next to him with theirs. Without a word they started putting them down and when they looked at Bilbo, their smiles were sad, and Bilbo wondered what Thorin had said to them to make them lie down on each side of him, and snuggle close.
”Good night Bilbo,” Fili and Kili said.
”Good night, Fili. Good night, Kili,” Bilbo said and closed his eyes.
- - -
The wind had picked up at some point, and the sound of two dwarves breathing heavily in their sleep made Bilbo feel like he was in the middle of a storm. His blanket had fallen off, leaving his upper half exposed to the wind and the cold.
He almost opened his eyes, but the whole world behind his eyelids was dark, and somewhere in the distance he could hear the dwarves snoring. It was still night, the dawn could be hours away, and Bilbo was cold, and he shouldn't, mustn't open his eyes.
The howl of the wind sounded like a scream and even under his clothes Bilbo's skin was on goosebumps. He snuggled as close as he could towards who he assumed was Fili, because he was closer, although it was pretty hard to tell with the brothers.
Fili was warm and solid, when he curled as close against his side, and for a moment he thought that maybe he could make it through the night, maybe he could even fall asleep right there in this place, snug between two sleeping dwarves, and warm enough for the rest of the evening.
But then the wind stopped, and the whole dark world inside Bilbo's head turned silent. The silence was worse. It was hammering inside his eyelids, reminding him, that he was there. He was looking for him. The silence burned his eyelids, and Bilbo was filled with overwhelming desire to open his eyes and blink.
But he couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't, so he buried his head against Fili's arm, gribbing it with both hands. He tried to not move, not make a sound, not open his eyes, not even against the fabric of Fili's sleeve. He tried to concentrate on anything but the silence, so he concentrated on Fili's deep breathing, in and out, in and out.
He wondered if Ori was awake too, curled up against Dori or Nori, trying not to open his eyes. He wondered if Thorin was awake too, curled up all alone near the fire, trying his best to keep his eyes shut. Not to look. Not to see. He hoped that they hadn't given in to the temptation, that they hadn't opened their eyes.
The silence grew, and it flipped his heart into an unsteady, restless rhythm, and made his skin prickle. The silence slowly made him numb. He felt like he was going deaf. The only things he could feel was his heart beating in his chest, and the feel of Fili's arm under his fingertips, and he squeezed harder just so the feeling wouldn't go away, just so he wouldn't be left with nothing more than a feeling of his heart beating against his bones, and the shattering numbness, spreading in his skin.
The morning would come soon, he thought. The morning would come and he would be awake and alive and the morning would come and he wouldn't open his eyes, not until then. He chanted this in his head until he felt dizzy.
Faintly, he became aware of someone almost like calling his name from somewhere through the fog and the prickling of his skin against Fili's arm. Bilbo squeezed closer, he wouldn't open his eyes, not until the morning. The voice grew louder and more familiar, whispering his name, and there was a hand shaking him and a voice telling: ”Wake up. It's morning. Wake up.”
Bilbo opened his eyes. Thorin was staring down at him, his eyes dark and tired. Thorin held our his hand and Bilbo untangled himself from Fili, who was still fast asleep, and took it. Thorin pulled him up and said:
”Go sit with Ori. I'll wake them.”

Bilbo turned towards the camp, where Ori was sitting alone, hunched forward by an unseen weight as his brothers were trying to wake the others up. As Thorin started shaking his nephews awake, Bilbo slinked towards Ori and sat down next to him. Ori gave him a small smile, hardly looking at him, and continued to stare at the ground. Bilbo lit up his pipe and let out a long sigh.
Ori was arranging twigs on the ground to form a figure of a tall man. He seemed hardly aware of it himself, but Bilbo shuddered and Ori leaned a little closer to him. When the rest of the dwarves were getting up, at least judging by the noises and general grumbling made, Ori quietly brushed the twig figure away.
- - -
The breakfast was silent. Or that it felt like to Bilbo, as if the silence of the last night was still there, in his heart, smothering the voices of the dwarves chattering. Ori never once looked up, staring at the twigs on the ground, and Thorin was very pointedly staring Balin straight to the face, as he discussed their day's walking with him, never once turning away.
The rest of the dwarves were catching on. Fili and Kili kept on giving Bilbo worried looks, and trying to engage him in conversation, but Bilbo could hardly hear what they were saying, under the sheer pressure of his presence. Dori and Nori didn't even try to hide their worry, as they openly studied their brother, who never met their gaze. And Balin's brow was furrowed, though his gaze level, as he continued to speak with Thorin.
When they were ready to continue their journey, Nori and Dori tried to grab Ori to walk with them, but with few sharps words Thorin made Nori and Dori fall back, and Bilbo took his place next to Ori. He could feel the confused looks of Nori and Dori on his back, but Thorin didn't seem to notice. He was staring right ahead of him, never once looking back.
Bilbo just couldn't keep his eyes forward, not on the back of Bombur's, who was walking in front of him. And he admired Thorin for the way he could only look straight ahead.
Bilbo hated himself for the fact that he kept looking around himself, looking for the eyeless figure watching. Because he knew he was here, the prickling on his skin didn't go away and the blanket of silence was still covering his ears and from the corner of his eyes, in the shadows of the forest consumed by darkness, was a hint of black cloth and featureless face.
Bilbo wished he would do something. Move, walk, attack, even laugh at him and his miserable being, every inch itching under the watchless follower. Bilbo wanted to turn and face him, to yell at him ”come and get me”, but every time he turned, the figure turned out to be a lean birch, half-hidden by the shade of another tree.
Next to him Ori flinched with every sound of twig breaking, with every sound of a tree leaning against a gust of wind. With every sound he raised his head, looking about wildly.
But the silences were worse, the long stretches of no one talking, and the soft ground absorbing the sounds of heavy footfall. Then Bilbo could see him close, just behind him, standing above his shoulder and Ori would whisper 'he's here' and Bilbo couldn't hear the words, but he knew them.
And then someone would say something, Thorin would yell an order or Bofur start a song to cheer them up, and the next time Bilbo would look behind him, there would only be the confused looks from Nori and Dori greeting him. And Ori would return to staring at his feet, twitching at every sound.
- - -
It might have been the fact that Thorin didn't look around, or that the woods made everyone restless and less attentive, or the fact that putting 13 dwarves and a hobbit through a forest wasn't exactly a noiseless task, but their journey came to a halt, when they found themselves surrounded by at least three dozen elves, all pointing weapons at them, their faces masks of passive politeness.
Fili and Kili were about to draw their weapons, but Thorin held out his hand to stop them. The row of elves parted to let through two people. The first one was clad in white, with a crown upon his head and a lazy smirk on his lips. The other elf seemed younger, dressed in forest green, and his face was similar to the older ones, but he wasn't smiling. He looked more curious than anything.
”Thranduil,” Thorin growled.
”Thorin Oakenshield,” Thranduil answered, with hardly a nod as a greeting. ”To what do I owe you the pleasure?”
”We are only passing through.”
”I have no doubt about it. But, I do wonder, where may an exile prince, twelve dwarves and a hobbit be heading. Hardly a picnic, is it?”
The young elf's eyes had stopped on Bilbo, and he tilted his head in curiosity. Bilbo stared right back at him. Suddenly a look of panic crossed the elf's face. Thorin was about to answer, when the elf turned to Thranduil and started muttering to him in elvish. Thranduil listened, giving a glance or two towards Bilbo.
”May we speak in private, Master Oakenshield?”
”And what, you capture my company?”
”Nothing of the sort. Just a little to the side, away from the ears that aren't meant to hear.”
Thorin looked at Thranduil, then at the elf standing next to him, then at Thranduil again.
”Fine,” Thorin said finally. He turned to the rest of the dwarves. ”Don't do anything stupid.”
”We won't, if they don't, ” Kili said, earning a glare from Thorin and a twitch of a lip from Thranduil.
”If you would be so kind as to follow me. And Master Hobbit and his dwarf-friend too.”
Bilbo and Ori looked at each other. Thorin motioned them to follow.
”If Ori goes, I come too,” Nori said.
”No, Nori,” Thorin snapped.
”Nori, please. I'll explain later. If I can,” Ori said. Nori looked displeased, but said no more. Bilbo and Ori followed Thranduil, Thorin and the unknown elf a few steps away from the group. They could still see the others, but they couldn't hear a word.
Thorin crossed his arms across his chest and waited. Thranduil spoke:
”There is a great darkness in my forest. And it looks to me you have encountered it too. My son, Legolas.” Thorin let out a strange chocking sound, which Thranduil ignored. ”Noticed it especially strong in you Master Hobbit. May I?”
”Yes?” Bilbo said. Thranduil knelt down in front of him, so that their faces were at the same level. But when Thranduil reached his hand towards Bilbo, Thorin grabbed him by the wrist. Thranduil gave Thorin an icy look.
”As you wish, Master Oakenshield.”
Thorin let go of Thranduil's wrist and Thranduil pressed his hands together and stared at Bilbo. His eyes were the softest shade of blue Bilbo had ever seen, but they were also very cold and commanding. Bilbo doubted he could have looked away even if he had tried. Thranduil let out a small hum, a very soft sound, before standing up.
”You are lucky, Thorin Oakenshield, in a way. Normally I would have taken you as prisoners for trespassing in my woods. However I do not want the shadow following you anywhere near my people. You are free to go. And I suggest you go as far as you can, before he catches you.”
Thranduil gave them a mocking nod with a hint of a smile, before giving a sharp command in Elvish. The elves turned around and scattered away. Thranduil simply started walking away, turning his back on the dwarves. Legolas gave them one last look, before running after his father.
They were just as alone as they had been few moments ago.
- - -
The three of them stood in silence, watching the woods around them. The presence had disappeared for a while at least, maybe because of the elves. Anyway, Bilbo was thankful for the break.
The rest of the dwarves approached them slowly, carefully, worry in their eyes and stances. Dori and Nori placed themselves on each side of Ori, and Fili and Kili were standing just a step away from their uncle, while Balin appeared to Bilbo's side.
”What is going on?” Nori demanded. Thorin huffed through his nose, placing his arms across his chest. When he spoke, his voice was strong, king-like, with no sign of the worry Bilbo knew was there.
”Thranduil told us what we had suspected already. The woods have poisoned Bilbo, Ori and I.”
”You look fine to me,” Dwalin noted.
”It is not a poison of flesh, but a poison of mind. Do not ask to give out details, for the poison may reach you too.”
”What do we do then?”
”We get out of here as fast as we can. And from this point forward, you shall not listen to a word we three say, and that is an order.”
The dwarves looked at each other in silence. Finally Bofur spoke:
”But, if not you, who leads the way?”
”Balin does.”
Balin nodded his head. The rest of the dwarves seemed to accept this with no problem.
”Does anyone have anything else to say, before we move out?” Thorin asked. Ori lifted his hand, and Thorin raised his eyebrows at him.
”Can we speak in private for a moment?” Ori asked. Thorin nodded, and then towards Bilbo. The rest of the dwarves retreat a little farther away, although Nori's and Dori's hands lingered on Ori's shoulder a little longer than usual.
”I think I have an idea, that may ease the way,” Ori said.
”Let's hear it then,” Thorin said.
”You said to us that only the ones who see the, the Slender One does he chase. I was thinking, would it help if we were to bind our eyes?”
”The Company would lose three pairs of eyes.”
”Three pairs of eyes that already see nothing but the one that is not there,” Bilbo reminded. Thorin still didn't look convinced. ”Look, I know it's not dignified, but it might help us make it through the forest better.”
Thorin sighed again. He, nonetheless, turned towards the Company and called:
”We need something to bind our eyes. And three willing dwarves to carry us, for our eyes bound, we would only slow us down were we to walk.”

The dwarves murmured among themselves, no doubt wondering what kind of poison would require one to lose their eye-sight, but Thorin remained adamant not to answer any more questions. Soon a few straps of clothing were produced. Ori's eyes were bound first. Dori took Nori's bags, while Ori's stuff was handed over to Bifur. Then Ori climbed to his brother's back. He looked very small, hugging his brother and pressing his head against his shoulder. Meanwhile, Bilbo's small carryings were handed over to Gloin, and Thorin's to Kili.
Thorin managed to sneak one last glance from Bilbo, before his eyes were bound. He merely nodded his head slightly, as a reminder that they would make it through. Bombur handed his bags to Bofur and Thorin climbed to his back. It was a funny sight; tall and majestic Thorin, looking a bit dazed with a cloth around his head, trying to balance on round and shortish Bombur.
Bilbo was the last who had his eyes bound. The dark blue cloth, which had been offered by Bifur, felt rough against his skin, and tickled the bridge of his nose as Balin secured the knot. The darkness was sudden, but more relieving than the night, for no light seeped through. Bilbo fumbled in the darkness, when his hands finally met Fili's back. The young dwarf lifted him with ease.
The darkness swayed for a while, as Bilbo tried to get a hold onto something. He linked his arms around Fili's neck, and held on as best as he could. Fili was warm under him, and Bilbo rested his head against Fili's hair, as he seemed not to mind. Kili made some remark, and Fili laughed, and the laugh was clear against all the darkness.
Somewhere in the distance Balin ordered them to move. Fili improved his grip on Bilbo, and soon the swaying and the sound of feet splashing against the mud told him that they were moving. Not very fast, but moving nonetheless.
For the first time in days Bilbo felt safe. There was no one lurking in the darkness of the blue cloth. He almost felt that he could fall asleep right on the spot. And he almost did, lulling off against Fili's head, until something caught his attention.
The sounds. They were coming from farther and farther away, the sound of Fili answering to Kili's teases could be only felt anymore through the skin of his back, and the movement of his head. The sounds of footfall disappeared, they might as well have been walking on air.
Even the forest was silent. Bilbo knew forests. He had spent most of his childhood in forests, turning ever stone and fallen tree, looking for fairies. Forests were alive, the sounds of birds and little critters should be everywhere around them, and even if it weren't, the forest should be around them, breathing, the wind turning the leaves over, and dropping dew to the ground.
But. Nothing. The forest was silent, dead.
”Can anyone hear me?” Bilbo asked. ”Am I deaf?”
There was no answer, just a strange buzzing sound, filling the dead silence. So Bilbo repeated the question, again, and no answer, and he felt like he was falling, although he was still holding onto Fili probably tighter than was necessary, the buzzing got louder and louder, and he was still falling, and holding on at the same time, his fingers's grasping the only thing he could hold onto, Fili, and there was a sudden shout: ”Something's wrong with Bilbo!” and a hand grasping his shoulder, and all the noise rushed in, at once, all the voices of dwarves muddling together, all the footsteps, and the forest like it was taking a big gulp of air.
”Bilbo, you are choking Fili!” It was Balin, next to him, and the hand on his shoulder must have been Kili's, and it's grip tightened, becoming painful, until finally Bilbo let his arms loose, and dropped to the ground. Next him, Fili was breathing in heavily between coughing.
”I am so sorry,” Bilbo said. ”Fili, I am so sorry.”
Fili tried to say something, but apparently couldn't, he just shook his head, judging by the rustle of hair and clothes.
”It's okay, Bilbo, it's the poison,” Balin said. ”Let's continue our journey.”
”I'm sorry,” Bilbo said again. Fili finally got his voice back, although it still sounded a bit wheezy, when he spoke:
”It's okay.”
”Can you still carry me?”
”As long as you don't... do that again,” Fili answered with a laugh, and Bilbo climbed back to his back, feeling horrible, and Kili's hand was a warning pressure on Bilbo's back as they continued their journey.
- - -
There was no more strange silences, or strange buzzing sounds during the rest of days journey. Fili soon got his voice back, and even joined a song that Bofur had started to cheer the Company up after the incident, but Kili's hand never left Bilbo's back.
Finally, after much swaying and a couple of songs more, Balin ordered them to camp out for the night. Bilbo was gently set down, and he pulled off the cloth covering his eyes. The camp was still surrounded by dusk, as the fire wasn't yet lit, still the little light coming from the setting sun burned Bilbo's eyes. Fili smiled at his blinking, but there was red marks on his neck, and Bilbo couldn't look at him anymore.
Meanwhile Ori and Thorin had been put down and had pulled their cloths off too, and they were looking just as bewildered as Bilbo felt. Without a word the three of them tagged together, and when the fire was lit, they sat next to it, all staring either deeply into the flames or at the ground.
They were just about to start eating when there was a sudden rustle in the bush just outside the camp, and all of the dwarves jumped up, drawing their weapons. Kili, closest to the noise, aimed an arrow to the source of it.
”Please don't shoot me,” a familiar voice said. ”My father wouldn't like it.”
From the shadows into the light stepped a lean figure of Legolas, son of Thranduil, and Thorin started choking again on something. Legolas held out his hands to show that he was carrying no weapons.
”What do you want?” Kili demanded, still pointing the arrow at Legolas.
”I wish to discuss with your Master Hobbit.”
”NO!” The dwarves' answer was unanimous. But Bilbo looked at Legolas, in all the ways he looked like his father, the eyes were not part of it. Legolas' eyes were warm, as they pleaded Bilbo to come talk to him.
”Just a few words,” Bilbo said, and before any of the dwarves could protest, he continued: ”You can watch us the whole time. It's just one elf, nothing will happen to me.”
Bilbo walked to Legolas, and smiled. Legolas sat down on the ground, and seemed quite happy to ignore all the glares the dwarves were sending his way.
”I am Legolas, son of Thranduil. May I know your name?” Legolas asked.

”I'm Bilbo Baggins. What do you want, Legolas, son of Thranduil?” Bilbo asked, and after a short silence added with a smile: ”And does your father know you're here?”
”No, he doesn't. He wouldn't have let me come, if he knew.”
”He's not that fond of dwarves, is he?”
”I'm not that fond of dwarves either,” Legolas answered. ”But you are not a dwarf Bilbo Baggins, and the shadow that follows you, clouds my mind. No one, not even a dwarf deserves the death he will give you, if you don't get away. I want to help you.”
Bilbo blinked, taken aback for a moment by the elf's words. Legolas shrugged his slender shoulders.
”I thought... I thought there's nothing to do, but to get out of the forest,” Bilbo said after a while.
”There is no direct way to fight him, that is true. But I thought this,” Legolas pulled a small vial with dark blue liquid in it from his pocket, and handed it to Bilbo. ”Might work.”
”What is it?”
”It will put you into a deep slumber for a couple of days, where you see no dreams, and no earthly mean can reach you. When you wake up the last week will be completely wiped off your memory. It is sometimes used when something so tragic happens that the person is better off not remembering.”
Bilbo balanced the vial between his fingertips.
”Will there be enough for the three of us?”
Legolas nodded. ”A drop should be enough. Use it only if you have to, only if he is so close that you have nowhere to run.”
”I'm getting a bit tired of running,” Bilbo said.
”Do not face him, you must not.”
”I know, I know.” Bilbo hung his head, and a tremendous sigh passed through his body like all the hardship of the past few days had build up into this. The vial pressed sharply against his hand, but it was something real. Something solid. Something to hold on to. Legolas offered him a tiniest of smiles.
”I wish you best of luck. Let's hope we will see again one day,” Legolas stood up. ”Now I must go, my father is probably wondering where I am.”
”Wait. What about you? You talked to me about him, won't he be after you now?” Bilbo asked.
”I don't think he will,” Legolas answered. ”He seems to be pretty preoccupied with you. But I better run now, and not later. Good luck.”
With that Legolas disappeared into the bushes.
”What did he want?” Thorin asked. He was sitting by the fireplace, back turned to Bilbo.
”He gave us medicine we can use if the poison spreads too far before we get out of the forest.”
With the word medicine spoken, Oin got up from his place and Bilbo handed the vial to him. Oin opened it, sniffed and hmm'd and closed it and turned it in his hands.
”It's supposed to make you sleep and forget,” Bilbo said.
”And that it does,” Oin answered and gave the vial back. ”But for the life of me I can not comprehend what kind of poison would require that kind of medicine.”
”It's better if I do not tell.”
None of the dwarves asked anymore questions, and the dinner was a quiet, restless event, tho the woods around them were calm and silent and the marks on Fili's neck were starting to fade. No one sang any songs, or even told a tale. All of the dwarves were staring at their feet the best they could, occasionally stealing glances of Bilbo, Ori and Thorin.
After eating Thorin stood up and ordered them to go to sleep. Bilbo and Ori followed him slightly away from the other dwarves. Without a word Thorin put the cloth back around his eyes, and set down, Ori and Bilbo following his lead and laying on each side of him.
The noises of the camp quieted down soon after that.
Bilbo stared into the darkness and tried to sleep.
- - -
The air got colder, and the night deeper, but he couldn't fall asleep. The presence wasn't there, but that bothered him more, he was anxious, waiting it to appear, dreading that it would. Bilbo's fingers found the vial he had stuffed into his pocket after Legolas had given it to him. The glass felt cool against his fingertips, and he closed his eyes, tho it made no difference because of the cloth on his eyes, but he felt a little safer.
”Thorin,” Bilbo said after a while, keeping his voice low. ”You awake?”
”Mmmhm,” Thorin answered.
”What about Ori?”
”I think he's asleep. What's on your mind, Bilbo?”
”Besides him, you mean? I am thinking. We should, I think we should take the medicine.”
”No,” Thorin answered. ”I will not take the elf's medicine.”
”We can't go on like this much longer,” Bilbo said. ”You realize that.”
”We can get out of the forest,” Thorin growled putting pressure on each word. But the wind send a chilling sensation up Bilbo's spine, like a warning, and by the rustling next to him Thorin had felt it too, wrapping himself tighter against the blanket. Bilbo was squeezing the vial in his hand, so hard that he feared he might break it. It, and the cloth covering his eyes were the only things that felt real anymore.
”It feels like I'm going insane,” Bilbo whispered.
”What?” Thorin asked, and that was when Bilbo made his decision.
”I'm sorry Thorin,” Bilbo said, and before Thorin could ask what did he mean by that, Bilbo rolled on him, forcing his mouth open and and a drop of the medicine into his mouth. Thorin stopped struggling pretty soon, and Bilbo leaned closer, placing his hand near Thorin's mouth, and when he felt Thorin's breath steady against his palm, Bilbo breathed out in relief. He wouldn't have known what he would have done if he had accidentally killed Thorin.
The vial was a warm, steady pressure against his other hand. It was the only thing he could hold onto, when he finally pulled off the cloth around his eyes. He would have liked to keep the cloth there, he would have not liked to see. But he had to find Ori without waking the others up.
When Bilbo opened his eyes, the whole world seemed to freeze. Bofur and Bombur were sitting by the fire, their backs turned, and Ori wasn't there, on his place next to Thorin, and Bilbo felt his stomach twist by a cold hand of fear grabbing it. No, he couldn't have been taken, he was just there, just a moment ago. He couldn't have been too late, not now.
Bilbo stood up, and Bofur and Bombur didn't still notice him, like he had turned invisible, and maybe he had, maybe he had slipped on the strange ring he had found by accident, and he wasn't there anymore. Bilbo pressed his hand against his waistcoat's pocket, feeling the familiar shape of the ring there.
It wasn't the ring. It was him.
Bilbo noticed Ori standing by the edge of the camp, staring into the darkness, and Bilbo jumped over Thorin's sleeping form and towards Ori.
”Ori,” he hissed, but the young dwarf didn't answer. He was staring at something in front of them. And the shadows of the trees formed a man in black with his blank face slightly tilted like he was staring at them without eyes. The shadow seemed to move along, forming more and more arms on the man.
Never face him, Bilbo thought, but that was just a faint whisper in his mind, as he pulled Ori behind him, standing between the dwarf and the slender silent man. Ori was still staring, like his mind had completely left him, but the man didn't do anything, for now. Bilbo turned away, turned his back on the man, even though he was so afraid and every muscle in his body screamed against it.
”He doesn't exist if you don't look at him,” Bilbo whispered to Ori, who showed no sign that he had heard. The vial was still pressing against his palm, slippery with his sweat, and when Bilbo tried to open it, his fingers slipped against the glass and the veil started it's slow fall towards the ground. But when it touched Ori's hand, he suddenly reached out and grabbed it. Ori looked at the vial in his hand like he had just woken up from a dream.
Bilbo took the vial from Ori's unresisting hand, and Ori was staring at him, his eyes wide. Bilbo opened the vial and put it on Ori's lips, and dropped the second to last drop into his throat. Soon it was like lights had dimmed inside Ori's eyes, and his eyelids closed, and his whole body dropped to the ground, fast asleep.
Behind him, the air got chillier.
”You're not there, if I don't look at you,” Bilbo said, staring at the Ori on the ground. But the buzzing noise was back, filling his head, his vision and his whole world. Something was tugging on him, turning him around to meet the blank face's stare.
”I won't run away,” Bilbo said, and closed his eyes, even though it was hard. He popped the vial open and took the last drop of the blue medicine that was left in the bottom of the vial. Then he opened his eyes to see one of the hands reaching out towards him. I am going to die, Bilbo thought, before all went dark.
- - -
The sunlight was burning his eyelids and somewhere someone was snoring rather loudly, so Bilbo opened his eyes. He was staring at a wooden ceiling, and under him was an impossibly soft bed.
”Ah, you're awake.”
Bilbo turned his head. Sitting on a chair next to his bed was Balin.
”What happened? Where are we?”
”We're at Laketown, just out of Mirkwood. You might be feeling a little out of place. You, Ori and Thorin fell ill and we had to wipe some of your memories away.”
”Ill?”
”The forest. It made you ill. But you should be fine now. Do you have any strange thoughts? Odd memories?”
”Not stranger than usual,” Bilbo answered.
”Good then. Ori woke up first, and he's been fine too, but we'll keep an eye on all of you, just in case.”
Balin leaned back against his chair, and studied Bilbo.
”And Thorin?” Bilbo asked. Balin only pointed behind Bilbo's back, and Bilbo turned to look. Thorin was fast asleep on the third bed in the room, snoring and drooling on the pillow.
”He should wake up in an hour or two,” Balin said. ”We'll probably move on pretty quickly once he gets up. So enjoy your stay while you still can.”
Bilbo nodded and turned towards the open window. His mind was still a bit fuzzy, everything felt like a dream, but the sun helped. Outside he could hear a sound of children playing and the sky was softest blue Bilbo had ever seen.
”Did we see elves?” he asked suddenly, still looking at the sky, a faint memory tugging him.
”A few,” Balin said. ”But they were no trouble. Follow me, I'll get you something to eat.”
Bilbo stood up, and turned his back on the soft blue sky.
- - -
Ori was sitting outside, on a rock in front of the inn, enjoying the sun. He was trying to put Mirkwood's chapter into his journal, but the trouble was he didn't remember anything about it, and everytime he asked the other dwarves they only said that he had been ill and nothing more. Not what the illness had actually meant or how had they got out of the forest. The Mirkwood passage would be a short one indeed.
Ori finished the sentence, resting the pen against the paper and raised his gaze to look at Fili and Kili and the town's children. The two dwarves had soon became the children's favorites as they were not above playing with them. Even now Kili was leading an army of children with wooden swords against the great dragon Fili, who roared and laughed and after a long battle was finally slain with a wooden sword through his heart.
Fili's death was pretty dramatic. He screamed and roared and tried to sweep at the giggling kids, without much success. Fili finally stopped fighting, and that's when the kids turned on Kili, claiming that he had worked with the dragon all along, and no matter what Kili said, he soon disappeared into a pile of laughing children, most of them who disregarded their swords and instead used hands to tickle the evil dragon-helper.
”What are you drawing?”
Fili had appeared to Ori's side and was staring at his book. Ori looked down, and indeed he had been sketching absent-mindedly a small picture to a corner of one page. It was an unfinished picture of what appeared to be a tall thin man surrounded by trees.
”Uh. It's nothing,” Ori said. ”Didn't even realize I was drawing. You make a really good dragon. Should I be suspicious?”
”Suspicious? No. Worried about Kili is what you should be. I think they're going to tickle him to death. What do you say?”
”Say to what?”
”Should orc Ori and his faithful warg save their companion from those brave warriors?” Fili flipped the wooden sword so that the handle pointed towards Ori. ”Take a sword and hop on to my back.”
Ori smiled at Fili. Somewhere in the bottom of a pile of kids, Kili was yelling for help.
”Fine. Just a moment.” Ori looked at his book, and at the drawing. After a moment he ripped the drawing off, and threw it to the ground. He closed the book, and put it on the ground. Then he took the sword Fili offered, climbed on a rock and from there to Fili's back. Something was nagging in the back of his mind, telling him that this was something familiar, but then Fili let out a howl and Ori forgot all about it. Instead he yelled out battlecries in gibberish, waving his sword, as Fili rushed towards the kids.
The children screamed and laughed and scattered away. And Ori's drawing was picked by the wind and it finally landed into a lake, where the ink slowly bled away.

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