The elleth from under the mountain

Follow the yellow brick road

Ontario's P.O.V

The path was covered with dead leaves, that had fallen from the trees above. Each footstep crunching loudly as the leaves started to harden and decompose.

Every few feet I would kick the leaves from my way, to ensure we were still on the cobblestones. As this part of the forest was unfamiliar to me. For my time spent in the Mirkwood was deep within its heart, I had never strayed towards the outskirts or the Elven road for Radagast always warned me of stumbling upon the elves that lived here.

The Mirkwood elves did not have a very good reputation. They were heavy drinkers, who often brawled for fun. They were less wise then their Rivendell counterparts who preferred books and music over violence.

Even still Thórin had me lead the way as this was not a path he nor any of the other dwarves had taken. To get to Radagast it was safer to just ride around the edge of the Mirkwood 175 miles north before cutting through the woods, west for 40 odd miles.

The Elven road was not straight, it's path twisted through the undergrowth, wrapping around the bases of trees that had stood there for nearly an age. Their trunks were so thick it would take almost a minute to walk all the way around them.

The path was not strictly restricted to the ground, as we often found ourselves climbing over thick boughs of trees that had cobblestones hammered into their limbs.

It made for hard walking, the muggy air was continuously pressing down on us. The further we walked the heavier it got.

.........

The first night we spent camped out on the side of the trail, not daring to let it escape our sight for even a moment. Gandalf's warning weighing heavy on our minds.

The ground was perpetually damp, even after the leaves were swept out of the way. There was moss on the ground every where we looked. The dirt seemed to stick to everything, our clothes, our packs, even the cutlery.

I laid out my blanket, sitting down on top of it. Not keen to get my last pair of clean pants dirty , leaning against my pack.

I thanked Fili as he handed me a bowl of stew and a large slice of bread, as he sat down beside me.

The small fire we had, had been put out, none of us wanting to risk discoverence. Everyone had their bedrolls laid out, eating our supper in small groups as we conversed.

Kili leant forward grasping a hold of the braid that held Thórin's bead. Examining it closely, a smile beginning to grow on his face.

"You know I always thought you would have ended up with my brother," Kili admitted, I choked on a mouthful of my soup, almost snorting it out of my nose in shock.

"What?" I asked as I wiped my nose with the sleeve of my shirt. "Well you always bed down beside him, even when we were children," Kili commented licking his spoon.

Fili and I turned and looked at each other in equal parts shock and disgust. "I've never seen Fili as anything more than a brother," I admitted, Fili nodded in agreement, "As you are my sister, this isn't Dunland," he added.

I glanced up at Thórin who was sitting on a log a few meters away, conversing with Balin and Dwalin. It was as if he knew I was looking at him, as he locked eyes with me. A heat began to slowly burn through me as I wavered under his intense gaze.