Fool for u

We lost our way - more than twice

The Company entered Mirkwood with Periwinkle leading at the front. The path Gandalf spoke of was paved and easy to spot. Unfortunately, it hasn’t been taken for years and the forest had covered parts of it under thick brushwood, roots and leaves.

Periwinkle tapped her foot against the ground every now and then, listening for the sound of the sole of her boot against the rock. When that method later failed, she asked for one of the dwarves to lend her a heavy weapon. Four held their weapons out to her at once, and she accepted Bofur’s with a quick smile in his direction.

She thumped the hilt of his mattock on the ground on both her left and right and heard the clanging sound come from the former, “This way.”

So far everyone seemed to follow Gandalf’s orders; following on her heels and letting her lead them on the path. The air felt different, indeed, almost heavy and stuffy. The deeper they ventured, the harder it was to breathe.

Periwinkle was on alert every step she took. She felt the effects of the forest, though not as must as the dwarves did. For her, it felt like walking on a frozen lake. She had no idea how thick the ice was, but the thought of it breaking and the icy water swallowing her circulated through her mind over and over. Her footing was light and precise wherever she treads, and her eyes remained unblinking to spot the dangers.

The path twisted and turned over all sorts of terrains, including bare grounds, high ledges and tree trunks. Everything looked the same; greyish-blue and gloomy. There was nothing to compare or to use as a mark to indicate where they have already been.

Periwinkle would thump the ground every few seconds to make sure they were still on the path, but with each passing minute, it became harder.

The air was getting to the Company, starting by leaving them breathless and wheezing. They were slowing down, complaining about the effects it had on them.

“My head; it’s spinning.” Oin groaned as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Air. I need air.” Bofur breathed.

Periwinkle looked back at them, “We can’t stop now, not here. Just… try to focus. Keep your eyes on the dwarf in front of you and don’t look away. Hold on to each other if you must. We just have to find the stone bridge.”

She looked at each of them to make sure they were ready to continue. Her eyes settled on Bofur, emerald meeting warm brown. There was no jest in his gaze and it pained her to see him that way. It was a simple attempt to cheer him up; she smiled as gently as she could, followed by a nod of encouragement.

It seemed to work, though. Bofur blinked before the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. A small spark returned to his eyes and she was good to go again.

They ventured for what felt like an hour, which was in reality only ten minutes before Periwinkle paused. Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest as she called out, “We found the bridge!”

They picked up their pace and rushed downhill… only to stop abruptly when they saw it. The bridge had collapsed what seemed like years ago. There was only a piece intact where they stood and on the other side of the dark stream below.

“Oh…” Bofur muttered and exhaled in concern. At least he was trying to be helpful when he suggested, “We could try and swim it.”

“No,” Periwinkle said in a beat. She slowly neared the edge of what was left of the bridge and peered down. The water was so dark she couldn’t see through it, only her reflection staring back at her as if she looked into a black mirror, “This water is enchanted.”

“Doesn’t look very enchanting to me,” Bofur muttered and pulled a face at the revolting looks of the stream.

Periwinkle frowned. A thin blanket of white fog hung over the water. It whispered to her, tried invading her senses, made her heartbeat sound louder until it was the only thing she could hear.