This isn't a plotless romance story—it will lead somewhere. Specifically to Rohan. I'll edit this if I have to once the movie comes out, but I really want to stick to canon. I certainly won't make the next chapter until the movie comes out. I wasn't too fond of the Elven King in the book, but golly, Lee Pace is such a cutie that I couldn't resist. So this is for you, Ned the Pie Maker.

And also to Kevin, who I know loves the Mirkwood Elk as much as I do. Not really.

A story about a wandering guide and a Gondorian scholar in the Eastern lands of Middle Earth as they explore the corruption of tyranny.

Disclaimer: In Durin's name. Merlin's beard. Gosh darn, I don't seem to own anything other than my sanity.

The lands surrounding these woods have grown dark as centuries passed, as most surely have heard from the tales and dirges. Not many dared to enter the woods of the Elven King of Mirkwood, as they had no wish to part with their lives. Most of those who had the courage and, perhaps, the folly of passing through the forest of the ancient woods did not possess the luck of seeing the Silvan Elves that often lingered in the heart of their forest, for many perish before ever reaching past the borders.

These were the whispers that surrounded King Thranduil's domain.

It was a danger to follow through the dark pathways of the forests forged by the Dwarves of old, as many had faded and disappeared with time, and it was not easy to use the surroundings for guidance, as the harsh rivers were often misleading and poisoned fogs treacherous. If the wanderers had been blessed with a keen sense of direction, then most likely their fates would end by the hands of the growing evil of Dol Guldur, for at this Age, such things were not uncommon.

"We will soon be facing many hardships once we enter King Thranduil's domain," said Areth quietly, as if she feared the slightest raise of her voice would bring the evil of the land upon her. Brushing her hand on the horse's mane, she soon brought him to a halt.

They have reached the borders of Mirkwood Forest.

"We will take our rest here," said Areth as her green eyes looked to the sky. The sun had yet to descend, but the wanderer was wary of the dangers that often lurked in the Silvan Elves' domain.

"No, we will continue on," said Aldamir, shaking his head. Always, he was adamant to go against his companion's decisions. "The day is young. Surely, if we were to enter now, we are bound to find our way in the halls of the Elven King."

"Once we enter this dark forest, we are bound to nothing but our fates," said Areth grimly, glancing sideways at the man. "We will take our rest."

Her decision was final. She knew Aldamir resented her for what he considered was an imperious attitude. As it was he who hired her as a guide through the eastern lands of Middle Earth, he felt it should be his decision should they move. Areth's answer remained the same, however.

You hired me to be your guide, and your guide I shall be.

Areth had yet to lead him astray, and yet, his nature prevented him from fully giving her his entire confidence. He was a Gondorian scholar—he locked himself up in libraries studying endlessly about the lands of Middle Earth known to man—surely he knew a fair amount better than this wanderer.

And also, there remained the fact that she was a woman. Aldamir studied her as she swiftly dismounted her horse and ran a gentle hand on the creature's neck. A rather small one, at that. He didn't know how she could protect him from danger when she barely looked apt to protect herself.

If she noticed any doubts on his part, it didn't particularly look like Areth cared either way. She always seemed indifferent to everything except her duty. It was not that she was uncaring, but Aldamir deemed her far too reserved. Areth seldom spoke to him, save for the few times when absolutely necessary.

The fading light of dusk soon coated the hills and mountains of the North. The companions prepared for the night, and though Areth said nothing, she did hope that Aldamir would relish their last night of true rest.

It was silent save for the crackling of the fire and the slight movement of the leaves. Areth's solemn green eyes reflected the shadows of the Greenwood Forest. She dared not look away. She sat with her back against the fire, her arms wrapped around her bent legs.

Aldamir leaned as close as he could to the burning flames without getting burned, as it provided the only light. He pulled out a small, leather-bound book from his breast pocket and quickly sketched the silhouette of Mirkwood. With a sharp sigh of exasperation, Aldamir snapped the book shut before shoving it once again in his vest.

"This will not do," he uttered, shaking his head, "This simply will not do."

"It would be best if we were to remain silent by these parts," said Areth in a hushed whisper. Hearing a loud rustle from the woods, she paused. Areth thought she saw the flash of eyes. Her hand twitched, as if preparing to grasp her bow. "I do not feel safe here."

Aldamir felt that familiar twinge of irrational irritation. "If you feel so compelled to leave, then go fetch us something to eat."

A faint growl was heard. Aldamir started, but was quick to brush it off as the wind.

"I would not deem it wise, for these lands are the dwelling of the Skin Changer," she said. Though her voice remained even as it had been before, it became noticeably colder. "He does not tolerate hostility in his home."

Areth once again caught a faint shine reflect in the forest, which caused her to quickly grasp her bow. Just as she prepared to pull an arrow with her other hand, a shadow in the form of a great animal seemed to move, disappearing entirely behind the great trees. The wanderer's green eyes narrowed, and while she retreated back to her original calm position on the grass, her wariness did not waver.

"What is it?" said Aldamir, his grey eyes widening as his eyes attempted to adjust to darkness, "Areth?"

His eyes caught the shadow of a large bear.

"Ease your mind and get your rest," Areth said softly, her chin resting in her folded knees.

As Aldamir's head brushed against the ground's tickling grass, he shut his eyes. The last vision he saw was of the wanderer's golden hair, for even despite the darkness, it seemed to radiate with the rays of the light.

"Once we enter the forest, our lives are no longer our own. Step with caution," Areth said.

She paused. For a brief moment, the wanderer faltered, for as she looked past the tall trees, she could have sworn that she saw the waiting eyes of their…

Areth shook her head. She would carry on her duty to Aldamir.

"Take only what you can carry. We will walk from here on out," she said, turning. Discarding the saddles from the backs of the two horses, she bid them a final farewell in the language of the Eorlingas before releasing them.

She stared after their fleeting companions as they made their way back to the safer lands of the Skin Changer. They will return to the Mark. Areth's green eyes softened when they disappeared. Never before had she felt such sadness at parting from their company.

The sun was bright, the sky clear. Areth bowed her head and whispered a silent farewell to the familiar sight around her.

After all, this might possibly be the last time she would be able to do so.

The tales and songs did not paint an accurate picture of the darkness that surrounded Mirkwood. It portrayed the dangers, but words were not enough to fully depict a harsh reality. Aldamir in particular viewed the tales as simple stories—from his departure from Minas Tirith, not once did he consider the dangers alluded in their songs. So vague it was that the scholar brushed it off as mere legends.

He would have done well to pay heed to their warnings.

"I underestimated the darkness of these woods," said Aldamir in a hushed whisper. He dared not raise his voice beyond Areth's hearing range. The air felt limited and he felt that talking would waste it.

Areth did not answer and, instead, pulled a thick branch back and allowed Aldamir to pass through. He took no notice, however, as his nose was buried in his leather-bound journal. The efforts were futile, as the words seemed to blur together to cast a shadow.

"Oh, confound it all," he breathed. He put the item away and wiped the sweat from his brow. The hot air entrapped within the forest of Mirkwood was suffocating.

Aldamir felt wary. Every sound he heard seemed to resonate through the entire forest and it brought him to an edge. The uncertainty of the forest was driving him close to madness and the fear was ever so present within him. He kept close to his guide.

"We should use the main road, where there is light," said Aldamir.

"No," Areth's response was quick, "The darkness will protect us from danger. We will be spotted in broad light."

Areth was in no better state. As she walked, her attitude remained rigid and her grip on the bow was unyielding while her other hand was kept a short distance from the dagger attached to her belt. Her temper was also evidently shorter upon their second day. Areth's usually bright green eyes were hooded with trepidation.

It had been like this for several days.

The travel wore Aldamir down and as the hours passed, so did his temperament and better judgment. Their supply of food and water was bound to run out eventually. In fact, the rations became smaller and smaller, and while Aldamir did not mind the food shortage, the effects of dehydration was slowly beginning to affect him.

"Confound it all," Aldamir hissed for the umpteenth time as he harshly wiped the dripping sweat from his forehead, "This wretched forest's name is rightly deserved. It is as dark as the tales."

"You should not have entertained the idea of entering Mirkwood if you are going to complain for the rest of our journey," Areth said as she lifted her gloved hand to push against a thick, twisting branch, "But in spite of this overall folly, you did manage to do one thing right."

"And what's that?" he said irritably as he was almost hit by the swinging branch. Aldamir's eyes narrowed at his guide. She did it on purpose, he knew.

"You sought my assistance," she said simply, repressing her annoyance.

Aldamir scoffed. "Your arrogance is unbecoming. Do not speak of things that you know nothing of. You know not of my purpose, so do not accuse me of folly."

"Have you deluded yourself in believing that you can survive the perils of Mirkwood without assistance?" Areth said, her tone much sharper that it was before. "If so, then please, lead the way," she gave an exaggerated gesture towards the darkness.

Aldamir stared at the wanderer with resentment, but did not move. He merely lifted his chin higher. Now he realized why he disliked her—Areth always seemed to undermine him.

"You speak of arrogance, and here I wonder which of us truly deserves the title," she muttered as she tightened the leather strap of her bow carrier.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" snapped Aldamir.

"It means you overestimate your importance, you pretentious child," Areth snapped back.

Aldamir's grey eyes widened visibly in surprise at Areth's cross response. Feeling like a berated adolescent, he raised his chin indignantly, as if in rebellion.

It seemed that his sentiments were reciprocated. A tense barrier of silence seemed to make its way around them.

A few more days passed.

To Aldamir, there seemed to be no end. Long had he given up with identifying the species and names of the plants that grew about the route that they took, as in the darkness, everything looked the same. Everything was dark. Everything was a shadow.

His focus was instead on his aching muscles and a painful itch on his palms that seemed determined to be acknowledged.

"We will stop here," Aldamir breathed finally. His energy was spent.

"That is not wise," said Areth. Her voice was as quiet as it usually was before they entered the forest and yet it seemed a shout in such a silent, eerie place.

"Areth, I can walk no longer," he hissed.

Aldamir no longer held feeling in his hands. It felt as if someone had cut them off. He stifled a groan, but he could prolong it no longer. His foot caught on a branch and he was forced on his knees and yelled when his palms scraped against the ground. While he had ignored the sting for the past hour, the intensified pain was not something that Aldamir had seen coming. Soon, it was not only his hands that felt pain, and it seemed to attack his entire body.

Areth's reaction was swift, as if she had seen it coming and was prepared. Without letting go of her wooden bow, she grabbed onto the back of her companion's collared shirt, preventing him from falling face flat on a jagged rock. Steadying him by his shoulders, Areth kneeled in front of Aldamir.

Areth was barely recognizable in Aldamir's eyes. The edges of his vision were beginning to blur together, and barely anything was distinguishable. To him, the figure leaning before him was a bright torch of yellow light that brought the only clarity in this damp, cheerless desolation.

With her brow creased in worry and concentration, Areth quickly inspected Aldamir for any possible injuries. She checked for any ripped clothing and cuts that might have allowed any sorts of poison to contaminate his blood.

Gripping pale palms in her leather-clad hands, Areth narrowed her green eyes upon the severe swelling that expanded from his wrists to his finger-tips. She was alarmed to see that it had turned a dark shade of purple underneath his fair skin, as if a dark shadow was extending throughout his hands.

"You fool, what have you done?" she muttered as she lowered him to the ground, setting his pack as a head rest, "This is a gradual infection. When did you notice this?"

"A… day ago, perhaps," Aldamir managed to wheeze out. Pulling on her glove, Areth checked his forehead. His brow was heated.

"You did not think it important to tell me?"

"I thought that it would pass," Aldamir weakly defended, "I am… stronger than you think."

"Oh, the wisdom of a scholar," Areth bit with great sarcasm, "Do you not realize the peril you now put both of us through? Now, we are vulnerable to any attack."

It made no difference to Aldamir whether or not he was standing or lying, as the pain did not once falter. To his utter horror, he found it hard to breathe. His grey eyes widened as he stared up at the pale blur that was Areth and without any words exchanged, the wanderer seemed to know what he was trying to say.

"I had not encountered any such an injury…" she muttered as she brought his head higher. It did not help. "I do not have the skill to heal this. It is hard enough without proper light."

Areth, still perched upon one knee, spared a glance upwards to the tall trees. It lead to no avail, however, as the thick leaves and branches did not allow even the sliver of light to pass through. She let out a heavy exhale and wiped the growing moisture on her brow. With narrowed green eyes, Areth slowly placed the bow again on her back, as if she feared the danger might suddenly come the moment she was defenseless.

"We have no choice but to rest here tonight," said Areth in defeat. She slowly looked around the area, green eyes searching. "But I fear the worst. We have yet to reach the dwelling of the Silvan Elves. We are not free from danger."

"It matters not," Aldamir muttered in a muted groan, "For I seem… to be perishing from my own… folly."

"Indeed," was Areth's dry response. However much she played at indifference, had Aldamir been coherent, he would have surely caught the anxious worry in her eyes. "I cannot work without light."

With the swiftness that only came from the practice of experience, Areth gathered fallen sticks and branches, though she was careful to not stray too far from Aldamir. Not only was he vulnerable to the unknown, but also to his own blood.

Folly, indeed, she thought as she worked to make a flame. When smoke began to rise from the slightly damp collection of wood, Areth quickly blew on it. The glowing embers grew stronger and soon, a small flame engulfed the bark.

The enemies are now sure to know our location. And even after she had taken the necessary precautions, it all led for naught. A waste, it all became. They might as well have traveled on the lit path of Mirkwood. Areth took such lengths to avoid the southern routes as best as she could. Although, I suppose it is better to be on the border rather than in the direct sight of Dol Guldur, she thought grimly.

Still, being away from the direct lands of Dol Guldur did not separate them from its influences. The darkness from that wretched place spread much like Aldamir's poison, holding clutches upon its heart. The hold of its darkness was unyielding. Though the evil of Dol Guldur was not so powerful in the northern boundaries, Areth acknowledged that it was, indeed, growing.

While Areth and Aldamir were located at the border that she knew the Silvan Elves still protected, their security was not guaranteed. They protected their lands, but she was not certain about travelers. King Thranduil was not known for his hostility, but neither was he known for his warmth.

Areth stared at the smoke as it rose from the licking flames of the fire. Someone is bound to see this. Someone is bound to see us.

The guide wasted no time. Throwing her own bag to the ground, Areth, still supported on one knee that was digging on the soil, leaned over the shivering Gondorian scholar. She was quick to pull her dagger. A flash of regret came over her green eyes. There was no other alternative. It would be painful, but he would recover from wounds, whereas there would be no return from death.

Upon the flickering of the flames, Areth was quick to notice the small, barely noticeable red marks at the tips of his fingers. They looked like the piercings from needles. She brought his hands open and made a quick slash at his pale palms. Dark blood was quick to pool like water, dripping thickly from the creases of his palm to the ground.

The pain from the poison was so severe that Aldamir did not even flinch. Areth clicked her tongue and her forest eyes narrowed as she regarded her foolish employer. A scholar, indeed. He's more ignorant than a mountain troll.

Reaching for a leather pouch from inside her robe, she pulled out a salve of what looked to be herbs and applied it on the slashed wound. Aldamir hissed, but was otherwise too paralyzed to protest. Areth just hoped that it was enough to draw out the poison.

"Had you told me sooner, I could have guaranteed that you would be able to keep your hands," she murmured half-heartedly as she wrapped his palms with bandages. Even then, she would not have been able to guarantee anything.

Aldamir was instantly visibly alarmed. As his body was still paralyzed, he could do no more that let out an odd sound.

The herbs would surely draw out the poison, but Areth knew that her skills were limited. She was not a healer and had no desire to take responsibility for the life of the sick and dying. Areth knew that she would have to get help soon.

Staring into the dark abyss of their route, the guide knew that it was far too late to turn back to the Skin Changer's dwelling. It had taken them days to reach their current location and turning back was a sure guarantee for Aldamir's death. Areth contemplated looking along the forests for more herbs, but already she knew that it would lead to no avail. Her options were limited, she knew, and events were rarely predictable in such a dark place. Areth contemplated seeking the aid of the Istar that was said to live about these borders, and yet, she would probably have a better chance finding the Silvan Elves before finding Radagast the Brown.

Staring into the crackling flames of the fire, Areth knew that it would not be long before the shadows of Dol Guldur found them. Using her bent knee as leverage, Areth pushed herself to stand and felt the wave of dehydration hit her. With the combination of the stifling air and the heat, it was all suffocating.

What Aldamir wished to accomplish by entering the Forest of Fear, Areth did not know, but she was certain this was not it. Stiff and paralyzed, here Aldamir laid by the fire with limbs far too heavy to lift and eyes far too tired to open. He was vulnerable.

Still, she held true to her duty. Whatever danger might follow after, Areth knew that she must do something to lead the shadow astray.

Areth frowned as she looked over at her employer. Though he not had control of his hands, Aldamir had yet to regain full coherency of his surroundings. He would be a liability and she would surely finish much quicker if she were to do it alone.

"I need for you to stay here," Areth suddenly said. Her voice seemed like a knife cutting through the thick silence. Her green eyes briefly glanced over his still form and then muttered, "Not that you have a will to do otherwise."

Unclasping her cloak from around her shoulder, she threw it over the fire and kicked on the muffled flames until the rise of smoke was all that was left.

Areth then kneeled over Aldamir, close enough so that his half-lidded eyes were able to know that she was there. Taking a dagger from her belt, she grasped his dirty, bandaged hand. Areth felt him stiffen slightly, but assuring him that he was in no danger, she then wrapped his fingers around the weapon's hilt.

"Just in case you are in danger," Areth whispered as she set his hand back over his chest. She grabbed her bow and prepared to leave. "You will be able to move soon enough."

Aldamir's grasp tightened slightly and his grey eyes blinked once, telling her that he understood. Pausing for a brief moment, Areth sat before him with her legs folded. She regarded him with softened green eyes, and though his vision was all a blur, Aldamir somehow knew that she was smiling.

The wanderer touched his damp hair.

"I will return, my friend."

And soon enough, Areth was gone.

Areth could already feel the weariness from her spent energy. Though a small ration of food remained with Aldamir, the fresh water was spent, as she had used the last to clean the scholar's wounds. As she swiftly evaded the trees and their tangled branches, Areth felt a faint throbbing emitting from her temples. There was not much time left to waste, however.

In two different locations, some distance on the east of their camp, Areth was quick to light a fire. It would buy them some time to evade the watchful eyes of danger. She only hoped that the light emanating from the newly-made flames would have caught greater attention than the small fire she made at their resting location.

Entrapping the branch between her palms, she quickly rubbed them together in repeated motion. Just when smoke began to rise and the faint glow of the fire began to form, the thick silence was broken by heavy footsteps and a loud yell.

Dropping the stick and letting the embers die, Areth's brow narrowed over her green eyes, for she recognized the voice to be Aldamir's. The guide grabbed her bow and went on a full sprint towards camp.

Areth berated herself internally. The odds were against her, as the one time she sent caution to the wind just happened to be the moment when caution was most necessary. She should have moved Aldamir's limp body away from their camp before leaving him with no defense but a dagger.

Keeping her footing light, Areth positioned herself behind a tree, a few feet away from where she knew Aldamir was. His speech was incomprehensible, but his clumsy movements were defensive as his hand clutched at his arm. Though the poison had worn off somewhat, at the moment, he was really a danger to himself. That dagger was rather sharp.

Squinting her eyes, Areth attempted to spot the exact location of her enemies. Blast this darkness, she thought with aggravation. Taking an arrow from behind, she attempted to make as little noise as she could as she gently pulled at the string. Try as she might, the bow's tension made a soft creak.

Her green eyes widened considerably as an arrow rushed past her ear, effectively scratching her cheek and tearing the edge of her hood. Areth pulled her head back and pressed herself against the tree, her grip not once losing tension as she tried to calm her pounding heart.

It was indeed impressive that the strangers did not once utter a single sound since their arrival. Their presence arrived as swiftly, silently, and deadly as an arrow. Areth had no time to dwell on anything, however, as Aldamir was still in the mercy of the enemy.

His cries had never been a comfort to her ears until that moment— if anything, at least it assured her that he was alive.

Her eyes narrowed and her jaw tensed as her mind played over a foolish scenario. As dangerous and fatal as it was for her, Areth knew that she would not allow Aldamir to die.

Just as she was about to raise her bow, against the perpetual darkness of Mirkwood, a faint shine glittered at the edge of her vision.

Stabbed on the ground, traced with the slight crimson of her blood, lay an arrow that held the bearing of the Silvan Elves.

Though not entirely dropping her wariness, her heart felt the spark of a new hope.

"Daro!" she yelled, her head turning to the side. Areth remained pressed against the tree. When she was met with only silence, she continued in Sindarin, "We are no enemies of King Thranduil's Hall!"

Hushed murmurings passed between the strangers and so soft were they that they could have been mistaken for the blowing of the wind. Even Aldamir's breathing quieted considerably.

A pause.

"Pedig eghellen?" As was common for the Elvish race, the speaker's voice was deep and smooth while managing the tone of command. "What business does a Grey Elf of the West and a Man of Gondor have in King Thranduil's forest?"

"I will answer your questions only if my friend and I are guaranteed our safety," she uttered.

"Lay down your arms and we will lay down ours," said the elf's companion.

From Areth's perspective behind the tree, she could see neither of the Silvan Elves' silhouettes, though she was able to get a clear view of Aldamir's hunched outline, trembling against the strain of standing.

"I-" Areth began hesitantly.

She was not so easily convinced with the only thing that can grant her security, though she knew that she was at a disadvantage as she stared at Aldamir. Making a resolve, she reluctantly brought the bow back with her arrows.

With her leather-clad palms raised in sign of assent, Areth stepped from behind the trees and slowly made her way towards Aldamir and took the dagger from his hands. She noticed that it was still swollen and infected. Her eyes flashed as she spotted his wounded arm. As she did so, two tall figures hopped down from the branches of the trees right above them, their cloaks and fair hair swaying with their movement.

Still, Areth was wary of them. Almost instinctively, she stood in front of Aldamir. However, she complied with their wishes and pulled down her hood in a sign of temporary alliance.

"I am not so easily deceived. I see that you are telling the truth," said Areth. As custom of the Wood Elves, she placed a hand upon her breast and lowered her head slightly in greeting. "Le suilon," she said, though her voice indicated otherwise, "I am Areth and my companion is Aldamir, son of Gondor."

"A human woman!" one of them exclaimed, "Goheno nin. I thought you were of Elven kind. Your accent is that of the Western lands, as in Imladris."

Aldamir's limbs felt heavy. He knew that he would not last much longer.

Areth seemed to sense that time was running short and instead of prolonging their conversation, she was quick to interfere. The guide brought Aldamir's uninjured arm around her neck and the addressed the two Silvan Elves with solemn eyes.

"My companion is injured," she said. One of them glanced at Aldamir's injured arm with regret, though Areth overlooked it. "He has been poisoned by a plant native to the Woodland realm. Will you not help us?"

"Indeed, we offer you our aid," one of them said. He was quick to act and instantly took Aldamir from Areth's hold. "Ernil will lead you to our King's halls, but I will get there quickly if I were to hasten."

Areth was close to interjecting. Instinctively, she was about to grab for her bow, but was quick to remind herself that she was among allies. Before she could say anything, however, the unnamed Silvan Elf had disappeared with her companion.

Ernil lowered his head in a slight apology to the woman. "I gather that you do not trust us," he said in the Common Tongue. His accent was odd against the Westron language, as if his voice was far too smooth for the rough tongue of the common people. "But fear not, Lady Areth. Lord Aldamir will be safe in the hands of our King."

"Forgive me for thinking otherwise," she said drily, glancing at the elf from her peripheral vision.

"No, I understand," said he with no trace of contempt, "The people of the Woodland Realm have since grown wary of strangers, but King Thranduil is not unkind. You will be treated well."

Areth's new companion looked from her to the shadowed trees of the forest, his eyes keen and searching.

"It would be best if we travel quickly."