Summary: Getting lost is as old as the Forest, probably older, but Bramble would really like it if she didn't have to go after everyone just because the trees got grabby. Unfortunately, nobody listens to her, so almost everyone is now lost.

Pairing is still Thorin/Bramble but those two are going to take the entire journey to do anything more than dislike each other.

Hey all! Hope you aren't TOO worried, haha.

So, I disappeared from this story mid-way through chapter Five, mostly because I got injured, and then lost inspiration for it by the time I was writing again. But I'm better now, and here is chapter five! Might upload Chapter Six in a few weeks, or start Soul of Light soon. Also, vampygurl's story will be worked-on as I am currently only sporadically able to access the internet to really do stuff. I'm borrowing this internet off my cell phone's data to update.

They had been walking for an hour and a half when she realized they were going in circles. And, in fact, had been going in circles for the past fifteen minutes. They had just passed Old Man Willow's Grove for the third time in a row, and the tree almost seemed to be smirking at her. Bramble muttered something unkind at it under her breath, turning back to check for the Dwarrow again.

But now there was only one Dwarf sitting behind her.

Oh, confound it all, but she hated this bloody forest sometimes! She was not here to stay and babysit the trees; she was not its guardian, and she did not appreciate this! The Dwarf sitting behind her was either Fíli or Kíli, but she couldn't tell without being able to hear his song, what with the herb still active.

The one still sitting behind her was blond. Whichever of them that one was, he was the only one left.

And to make matters worse, he seemed like he was half-asleep in the saddle. A vine was reaching out from a nearby tree to snag his reins and pull him away, down a path that was just starting to open to her left, but Bramble reached out with her hand, swatting it away and pulling both of their ponies to a halt.

He didn't snap out of his daze immediately, though Gandalf stopped, too, pulling his reins up and trotting to where he stood next to them.

"Bramble," said Gandalf, his brow furrowed, "I thought we had more Dwarrow with us than just young Fíli, here. This has never happened before."

Bramble cursed under her breath as she heard the trees creaking around them, their song lighter and happier than it had been earlier, and shook her head. She'd half-expected the Forest to try something like this, because it loved her so much, and without any music to help her she had nothing she could use to stop it. It wasn't dark, or menacing exactly, so much as it was a child that didn't quite understand why she had to leave it behind.

At least, that was the impression she'd gotten last time around. The Forest was fairly young in comparison to the Shire, and didn't know how to let go of what it considered its own belongings. Apparently the Forest counted her among those 'belongings,' which was a little irritating.

"I'll thank you," Bramble said snappily to the next tree that tried to grow a branch to snag her "Not to do that again," her voice rang through the air, and it flinched back from her.

That done, she moved so she was sitting near enough to-Fíli, Gandalf had called him, and with gloved fingers grabbed his chin, just above his beard hair. Gently, she turned his head so she could look directly at him, only to see that his eyes were unfocused, and she caught the faintest scent of a sweet concoction of pollen. The same pollen the Bounders used in their darts to send unlawful intruders or disturbers of the peace who grew too rowdy, to sleep.

Gandalf was still looking at her, "Bramble Baggins," he said, "I should very much like an explanation for this behavior."

Bramble sighed exasperatedly, "The Forest likes me, Gandalf. It always has. It tried to keep me here when I was naught more than a fauntling, and again when I was just out of my tweens and Fort got lost in here while we were playing a game of dares. I don't like passing through here because it never wants me to leave, but Uncle Tom helped me out last time," she explained. "Unfortunately, it's a Tuesday, which means he's at home with his wife, and not keeping an eye on things out here."

She looked back at Fíli, sniffing a few more times as she heard him starting to snore. So the trees had used some kind of pollen, probably mixed with a little bit of their own power, to put Fíli to sleep. Bramble pulled open one of her saddlebags, reaching for her herbal pouch, and pulled out a pinch of cinnamon, a pinch of chili spice, and a pinch of ginger. She added some vanilla to the mixture, and shook it around in her hand.

Then she opened her palm and blew a small cloud of it into Fíli's face.

The Dwarf's snores stopped abruptly as he yelped, coughing and sitting upright in the saddle, hacking and brushing at the herbal mixture that had just flooded his nose. Bramble sat back, satisfied, as he reached for a waterskin, eyes streaming, and managed to wash out his mouth, coughing.

"What the-Kíli-I-" he stopped shouting the moment he saw Bramble sitting so close to him, coughing, but the pollen had definitely worn off. "What the bloody hell was that?" he demanded, wheezing and coughing.

"Mind your language, Fíli, son of Dís!" Gandalf snapped, and Fíli ducked his head, mumbling an apology; his nostrils were flared open and his eyes were still watery when he looked back at her, but he was better. "Cinnamon, crushed chilies, and vanilla?"

"And ginger, too, to really wake him up," Bramble concluded, smiling at Fíli. "Feeling more awake now, are we? You needn't worry about offending me-my cousin yells like that all the time when I wake him to go to market," she added quickly.

"What happened, Mister Bramble?" asked Fíli, rubbing at his teary eyes.

"Stop that before you hurt your eyes, Master Fíli," she swatted at his hand, and he chuckled, lowering it. "The Old Forest happened, I'm afraid. This old place doesn't want me to leave." Fíli swallowed audibly "So it led our companions off into the woods, presumably so I had no reason to depart from the woods again."

For a moment Fíli just gaped at her.

Then reality sunk in and he turned, looking around wildly "Where's my brother? What happened to Kíli-will he be hurt, injured? Could the forest have done that to all of us? Why haven't we-"

"Patience," Gandalf cautioned, cutting Fíli off "We decided it was better to wake you first rather than having to run off to find you, too. Bramble, do you have any more herbal remedies that will keep us from falling asleep?"

"Yes, I have one that is guaranteed to work. Nothing short of literally knocking you out would put you out after drinking this, but be careful," Bramble said, pulling out a few pouches of her best 'keep-awake' brew. "Add that to cold water and let it sit for a minute. The longer you leave it in, the stronger it gets, so please, pull it out of the water after a minute unless you wish to act extremely hyperactive and irrational. The colder the water, the stronger the effect the mixture has."

Fíli noticed she wasn't pulling a third one out "And what about you?"

"The forest's power has never really worked on me, master Fíli," said Bramble with a shrug. "Hobbits are naturally resilient creatures, and I am enough of a Took," Fíli looked disbelieving, and Bramble shook her head again. "Gandalf, there is something I need to speak with you about later," she added, "It's about my luck."

"Luck?" Fíli glanced between the two of them as he added the pouch to his waterskin, looking around for the path they'd been on. "The path's disappeared! Where's it gone?"

Bramble bit her tongue to hold back a very improper curse "It does that around me, I'm afraid," she admitted, hand coming back to rest over the fiddle case behind her back, hoping she would not need it.

How much of her gift dared she reveal? She couldn't find the Dwarrow without their songs, but her gift would be suppressed unless she started to sing. Whistling tended to let her use a milder version of her gift, after taking the herb, but the effects of her gift were much more bearable with it. Maybe she could whistle a tune without everything coming back?

She'd never used it in the Old Forest, though, so it might be stronger here.

Bramble knew whistling the song of the Old Forest was what had gotten her into this mess in the first place, as a tween, but she really didn't want to have to reveal herself to Gandalf and Fíli, too, not this soon. She wasn't ready for that.

"My luck tends to grow worse the further I venture from home, no matter who my companions are," warned Bramble, realizing she hadn't answered their question. "I'm not entirely sure why, but the Shire is a safe haven and the rest of the world, Buckland included, tends to be more dangerous for me than for a normal Hobbit."

Gandalf raised both eyebrows in surprise "Ah," he said, "then that would explain this situation."

"I honestly thought the Forest would leave me alone, now that I'm old enough, or I would have said something," Bramble grumbled, when Fíli looked her way, taking a sip of the concoction. He shuddered almost immediately and she winced in sympathy "That drink is never tasty. I would advise downing as much of it as you can and taking the pouch out immediately after."

Gandalf took a sip of it and almost appeared to gag, visibly fighting to keep it down. He took the soggy herb pouch out and handed it to her after a few more drinks, and only seconds later Fíli did the same, still shuddering.

"By Mahâl, that's disgusting!" the Dwarf managed, as he downed a few more mouthfuls. "Gah!" he shuddered again "Bleh!"

Then, to Bramble's amazement, he proceeded to actually scrape at his tongue with his gloves, spitting out what he could of the drink. "That-is-disgusting," he managed, when he finished it. "Here," he handed it to her, looking pleading "Can I please have a different water skin?"

Bramble hesitated "You need to drink more of it than that. You need at least half the waterskin or this forest will put you to sleep on me," and he still looked drowsy, too which wasn't a good sign.

Fíli grumbled something in a gravelly, gargling-rocks language she couldn't understand, but took it back, and gulped down as much of it as he could. He stopped when he'd half-finished the waterskin, looking pleadingly her way, and Bramble handed him some mint to chew on. She offered the same to Gandalf, who took it and began chewing on it without question.

But then, he didn't seem nearly as upset about the flavor as Fíli. It was Gandalf, though, and he was a wizard, so it was possible he just had had more of it or similarly nasty-flavored things in his lifetime.

Come to think of it, was he related to Elves, or was she just seeing someone who was more…Elven than before, come to think of it? Everyone had always told Bramble he was a wizened old man with a gray beard and gray hair but he was a silver-haired, youthful Elf to her eyes with no beard.

Why did she see an Elf, when clearly no one else did?

Bramble cleared her throat, trying to settle her nerves "I need you both to listen to me," she said, "I'm going to start whistling. You're welcome to join if you like. Just please, don't interrupt me when I do this.

"Why whistle?" asked Fíli, though Gandalf looked just as confused by her suggestion.

"Well, I find it easier to find people when I'm whistling," Bramble admitted, flushing a little.

That, and it would open her ears to their songs, even if they were muffled; not that she had any intention of telling the two of them that. It would also keep the Forest from trying anything covert to get the two of them away from her.

"Stay where you can hear me, and focus on my whistling," Bramble added, "It'll give us a tune to keep you both awake."

With that, she started to think, finding a tune as she cocked her head to the side, straining for anything that wasn't Fíli's or Gandalf's. The melody that came to mind was light and high, but contrasted with itself in lower parts, pieces no Hobbit should be able to whistle. It would guide her directly to the Dwarrow, whose songs she knew would resonate with the lower parts of the song.

The only real problem was her doing it around people, because their songs would resonate and she would have a hard time not singing. She didn't even dare hum around anyone else, most of the time, but now it was…it was necessary. Much as she hated doing this near anyone, she had to do it now.

She only hoped they didn't notice anything off about her whole performance while she did so.

She forced those thoughts away, and after a few false starts, managed to start whistling. Her song wasn't quite the song of the Shire, but was the song she'd heard faintly, once or twice, in her dreams. It leapt over bubbling brooks and bathed in warm sunlight, taking her high into the mountains and through the forests beyond as the notes grew loud, searching for other songs in the near vicinity.

She heard a sharp intake of breath to her left-Gandalf-as his song began to enter the whistling tune, weaving through it with a sense of…she couldn't quite tell what, in part because just then Fíli's trumpet sounded near her ear and his drums began to beat the tune of the Shire, accompanying her whistling. And in part, she couldn't quite tell because she didn't know enough about Gandalf to tell.

Not daring to glance to either side as Fíli stiffened in his saddle, gasping as his song wove itself together with her whistled tune, and then, faintly, something else joined it, she stared directly ahead. A path began to open before them as this faint, other thing began to resonate against her song, something that felt…vaguely asleep, strangely enough. As they watched, trees shuffled aside, moving their roots back and drawing away from the dirt path that was forming before them. Her song began to speak of her helpful (albeit somewhat annoying) Uncle Tom, and she almost felt the Forest stand at attention, as it were.

Bramble nudged Minty forward as the pony's song began to resonate against her whistling, and then began to flow through her. It was quickly followed by the songs of Fíli's pony and of Gandalf's horse, all three of them whinnying once as they followed her, as if to acknowledge they heard her. She could feel Fíli and Gandalf watching her, as well as the forest around them, as her tune changed, whistling up a small breeze to blow the last of the pollen away from them.

Roots and branches moved away from both Fíli and Gandalf's faces as she rode, warmth beating in her chest with her heartbeat and filling the air with the song. She followed it, the faint strain of thrumming resonance, through the Forest; a closer listen told her it was Balin's song, resonating against hers. Fíli's trumpet blared out the moment she took a breath and Bramble was hard-put not to let out a happy laugh.

It felt so good to whistle like this, even if she was still keeping her strangeness to herself. It was odd, but then, everything Bramble did was odd. Most Hobbits wouldn't bother being in here to begin with, yet, here she sat, whistling her way through the Old Forest, feeling their songs resonating against her, and in her chest. Her feet began to twitch; if she could just dance along with the whistling, she would-no!

Bramble shook herself, forcing her mind back on track and away from how warm she felt.

She had to find the rest of the Company. She was pushing it with her self-control as it was, and the herb wouldn't last if she did any more than whistle. The faint warmth in her chest was warning enough for that.

Balin's song grew louder as Minty started trotting forward, and Bramble tightened her hold on Minty, shifting her whistled tune in response.

Bramble followed the source of his song to Balin, who was sitting astride his pony, both of them leaning up against a tree. And fast asleep. He looked peaceful, as did his pony, though the two of them would need to wake for them to continue.

Bramble paused, and just in time, as Fíli cried out "Mister Balin!" his song filled with concern.

"Slow down," warned Bramble, the words sounding strange to her ears, her throat still filled with the whistling, warbling song.

Her voice sounded nothing like it usually did, retaining the music she'd just been whistling through the air, and Gandalf shot her a strange look. She flushed, trying to shake the music out of her voice and head, but she knew it was a fruitless endeavor. She rarely whistled, and never sang; thus when she did either she could barely stop, and the music would never leave her. Not completely, though she could pull it out of her voice.

"Can you wake him like you did me?" Fíli asked, hope swelling against her through her song.

She was taken aback by how strong his song still was, even with the influence of the herb on her ears. No wonder she'd had so much trouble standing the other day, if all of the Dwarrow had songs like him! Balin's song pressed into her as soon as Fíli asked her, and she felt for it, feeling along his song to see if that itself could wake him. He twitched, but did not stir, though he was closer to waking than before. Close enough that whistling would wake him.

Bramble nodded, trotting up to Balin, and took a deep breath, seizing onto Balin's song before whistling a few notes of it into the air; she followed up by whistling a few notes of his pony's song.

Instantly, Balin and his pony jerked awake, the pony trotting forwards a few steps and whinnying at her. Bramble smiled apologetically as Balin stared around them, blinking.

"Fíli, lad? What happened? The last thing I remember was following Master Bramble down the path…" he started, catching sight of her. "And what was that noise?"

"Mister Bramble can whistle really well," Fíli offered, uncertainty threading its way through his song. "I'm not sure what it is, Balin, but he whistled and the forest opened up."

Bramble bit her tongue hard when Balin looked at her, trying to fight the rising flush of heat in her cheeks, "Is that so, lad? Will you whistle for us, then?"

She cleared her throat, hoping to get rid of the musical quality her voice had taken on, and nodded.

"I will," she was relieved to hear her voice go back to normal. "Here, Master Balin. Add this to your waterskin, and take it out before a minute has passed," she passed him one of the nasty herb pouches. "Master Fíli did not care for the flavor, but you need to drink at least half a waterskin of it to stay awake."

"It's disgusting, but it works," Fíli agreed, "It'll keep the forest from putting you to sleep, which it likes to do. Apparently it really likes Mister Bramble."

Balin turned an incredulous look on Bramble, who flushed "Yes, well, the forest might like me but I hadn't thought it would go so far as to kidnap my companions to keep me here." She grimaced "Which is why we are delayed. I will help you find them; after all it is my fault we are delayed so, Master Balin."

"Nonsense, lad," said Balin, taking the herb pouch out and downing half the waterskin in three gulps. He shuddered "You weren't kidding," he grimaced, putting the mint in his mouth, looking very much like he wanted to scrape the taste out of his mouth. "What's in this pouch, Mister Bramble?"

Bramble shrugged "A southern chili blend, lots of ginger, very strong black tea, bergamot, cardamom, lots of cinnamon, cherry blossoms, and a bit of chamomile leaf, to keep the drinker from becoming overly nervous. It's the strongest blend I have."

"Aye, and even stronger than coffee," Balin agreed. "Now, lad; we were going to find the others?" the tree reached out to stop him, and Bramble whistled a warning.

The tree's branch stopped, suddenly blooming in apology, and Bramble nodded towards the branches. "Yes, we're off to find the others. They won't be far, and unless I'm mistaken, one of them has probably found his way to Old Man Willow. We'd best be off, and stay with me; the Forest won't hurt you if you stay near me."

Balin raised another eyebrow, spying the branch "It tried to grab me?" he started, moving his pony away. "Why?"

"It doesn't want me to leave," said Bramble, whistling one more note to keep the path open. "Now, we've got to move, Master Balin. The longer the Forest has a Dwarf, the more likely it is to try and remove your weapons. You were lucky; the others may not be."

Balin trotted over to Fíli, handing the younger Dwarf his reins, and nodded to her. With that, they were off again, and Bramble began to whistle again, this time catching a few notes from Balin's song and weaving them into the song. She heard all three of her companions gasp, but focused on moving forwards, else they were going to have a great deal of trouble.

Bramble had been right to keep them together; finding the other Dwarrow went over with the Forest about as well as leaving the Shire would with a native Hobbit who wasn't a Took or Brandybuck. Her whistling was the only thing keeping the path there, at times, and it took them much longer to find Dwalin than it had Balin-and he was only the third Dwarf that had gone missing. Luckily he and Dori were kept in the same place, as well as the young lady Dwarf, Ori, and her thief brother, whatever his name was. The four of them were entangled in what seemed to be a web of vines, songs pulsing against her whistling as the group of four of them entered the clearing.

"Oh, brilliant," Bramble broke off whistling to mutter, her voice soft and filled with the same melody she'd just been whistling.

Taking a deep breath, Bramble rested one hand on her instrument, and looked directly at the tree. Three sharp notes escaped her mouth, not quite whistled and not quite sung, and from there, she began to whistle a much sharper, stronger song. The Finding song had worked just fine to find Balin.

But this one was much sharper, and more commanding. It was only gentle in turns, and had a very different melody, the pace of which she set by tapping her fingertips against her instrument. Bramble ignored everything save for the trees, which began to shudder, trying to hold the Dwarrow closer, but to no avail.

Dwalin was the first to wake, with a start, bellowing as he began to fight the vines that were constricting his movement. The trees had to let him go lest he chop off one of their vines.

The second to wake was Dori, adding his sharp melody to the song; he all but ripped the vines off himself and he and Dwalin would've ripped them off Ori and Nori if Bramble hadn't stopped them short with a high note. She continued the sounds, scolding the tree until it released the other two Dwarrow, and their ponies as well, who had been tied to the trees by way of branches growing through their bridle straps.

Bramble finished with a final warning three notes, and fell silent, breathing a little harder as she fought down the warmth trying to escape through her throat. She would not sing here, not now, but she couldn't let Dwalin hurt the Forest. It would never let them leave if he did.

Dwalin drew his axe, glaring at the tree; the magic of the music was only palatable, only real if Bramble was singing. She opened her mouth to scold him, but someone else beat him to it.

"Dwalin, son of Nwalin, if you chop down that tree, so help me I will leave you for the trees in this forest!" Bramble breathed a sigh of relief as Gandalf took over.

"It tried to trap us here!" Dwalin tried to argue.

"And it did so out of love, misguided though it was," Gandalf retorted, as Dori was looking over his siblings. His song resonated against theirs, and though there was a bit of discord between him and his brother, it was mostly filled with relief. "This forest is old, Master Dwalin, and if you chop down any of its trees, it will tear you to pieces before you leave," he softened "It bears a great love for your burglar, and would not see Bramble leave forever."

"I'm not leaving forever, you silly forest," Bramble shook her head, trotting Minty up to the large tree in the center. "I'm coming back, even if it's not to stay. I promise. But you can't keep doing this to my companions; what would Uncle Tom say, if he caught you at it?"

She heard the song of the Old Forest then, distantly weaving its way through the branches with the way the trees spoke. It was grudging, but it was going to let her pass. And it would let her take the Dwarrow with her; it didn't want any of the axe-wielders present.

"That's better, isn't it?" Bramble asked, looking up at the big tree. "Keep your cousins in line for me, please," she patted the trunk, switching to Hobbitish, "I know you like me, a lot, but I can't stay here. I'll suffocate in the Shire, and as brilliant as this forest is, I need to see the mountains too."

The trees rumbled in discontent, but didn't argue with her. The sounds reminded her of a group of dejected dogs, who had just been told they couldn't follow their master. She felt a little downcast, but there was really nothing she could do. If the trees suddenly uprooted themselves and moved to follow her she had no doubt they would be used for firewood, or worse.

"I'll come back to get some seeds of yours, I promise. I just can't promise they'll make it with me this time," Bramble bargained with the tree for a moment, ignoring the thunderous crash of surprise from behind her as the Dwarrow realized what she was doing. "Okay?"

Another rumble, but this time the trees seemed calmer. Warmth-affection was sent her way this time, and Bramble smiled.

"Thank you," she said, patting the tree trunk. "Carry on my message, please? I don't like leaving, but some of you are a bit more possessive than others. And where have the others got to?"

The tree above her and in front of her groaned, its branch reaching out to touch her hand, and then snaking past it to touch her forehead. Bramble went rigid at the contact, feeling it open to her in that way most trees did not, not these days at least. She welcomed it, welcomed the warm familiarity of the bark and soil beneath her toes-

-Thorin, sitting asleep in a part of the forest with a large open clearing, right ahead of her. He looked peaceful, though none of his weapons had been removed, and the trees were taking care of him. Warmth-affection-annoyance-the rotund Dwarf snoozing next to his large pony by another tree, both bound by vines-the Dwarf with the funny hat snoozing on the other side of the tree-the injured Dwarf who only spoke Khuzdûl patting a flower, and looking very annoyed but remaining where he was, trapped by the tree-Óin, sleeping next to Glóin underneath a large oak tree-Kíli, slowly riding out on the Barrow-Downs, away from the Forest and into danger-urgent-DANGER-HURRY-

The tree broke contact and Bramble slumped a little, trying hard to calm her racing heart. She took a few deep breaths, shaking as Ori's song whistled through the air, and Fíli's trumpet blared alongside it.

"Mister Bramble?" the scribe's quiet voice startled her, shot through with a high flute melody, and Bramble swallowed, turning her pony to look at Ori. The female Dwarf flushed a little "Uh, I was just-wondering," she stammered "U-um, a-are you talking to the tree?"

Bramble froze. She'd forgotten they were there, in her urgency to get the trees to leave her alone, and she bit her tongue, trying to keep from giving away just what was happening. Hobbits couldn't talk to trees-only Elves could, and she really didn't want the Dwarrow to lump her in with Elves.

Ori hurried on "M-Master Dwalin doesn't b-believe me, b-but Mister Fíli said you whistled, just like b-before, when you found Master B-Balin and m-made the trees m-move. I-I was wondering, w-were you talking t-to them? A-and can all Hobbits understand trees, or were you just th-thinking? I-I thought only Elves could talk to trees, but I-well, I m-might be wrong."

Bramble sighed. Her gifts were going to become a problem, but hopefully she could keep as much of them from the Dwarrow as possible. It wasn't going to do her any favors to be viewed as an Elf-Hobbit. Besides, there was the slight chance she could prove useful to their Company…and maybe they'd stop looking at her like she was useless if she managed to save them.

"Elves can sing to trees," she corrected, "What I did wasn't singing. I," she paused, clearing her throat and taking a sip from her waterskin. "What I did was…something most people don't see me do," confessed Bramble, smiling a little in embarrassment. "I learned the Old Forest listens to me, from an…uncle of mine, Uncle Tom, many years ago. So, while Elves can sing to trees, he taught me to talk to them, though they don't talk like you or I do. They speak in pictures and tones, and most of all, they listen to and speak in music."

Ori gasped "S-So you were talking to the tree, w-weren't you, Mister Bramble?" she asked.

Bramble winked "Just between you and me, Master Ori, I was asking the tree where our companions were taken." She swallowed, thinking of the Barrow-Downs "We've got to go. Master Kíli is riding into the Barrow-Downs, and he will never return today, not if we don't catch up with him. Without Uncle Tom around, our best bet is to stay with Gandalf across that land, as there dwell the spirits of dead and far, far worse."

Ori gasped "W-we've got to go!" she turned her pony quickly, and Bramble trotted over to the rest of the group.

She noticed that as the two of them approached the group, everyone seemed to be staring at her, and not Ori. That was fine-she was expecting it, after all. After admitting to that, she could hardly expect any less around Dwarrow.

Bramble looked to Fíli "Do you have any rope in your bag?"

"Yes," Bramble nodded to his saddlebags, "Why?"

"I need you to tie the ponies together, and keep your reins with me," she said, glaring at one of the mischievous trees. "Cut that out," she hissed at the trees, trying not to let it come out in a sing-song voice, succeeding by the skin of her teeth.

The Old Forest was strong. Strong enough to resist her commands, should it try to break free-she was not Uncle Tom, after all. But Bramble could put together her own defenses in time, and hopefully, hopefully, it would be enough to get them out alive. Fíli tied the reins of the Dwarf behind him to his own, tossing them back to Bramble when she realized she'd dropped them.

Fíli cleared his throat "Ah, Mister Bramble?"

"Yes?" Bramble could almost hear the confusion in his song, faint though it was at this point. She had to resist the urge to bite her tongue, since the herb was going to wear off by the afternoon. "What is it?"

"I was hoping you had more of that-strong drink, perhaps? To keep us all awake," he fumbled, "I didn't drink all of it."

Considering this for a moment, Bramble deduced that the drink's effects were probably best split between Dwarrow, in case they should need it again. After all, she could re-make the herbal mixture, but she had no doubt the plants on the road were different and therefore would have different effects on the Dwarrow. This mixture would have soothed her headaches, but naught else-she'd been right in guessing it would keep the Dwarrow awake, though.

It worked much the same way with Men and Elves, after all.

"Share it," Bramble instructed him, "Master Dwalin, Master Dori, if you would consent to sharing waterskis with your siblings?" she inquired, as Ori was eyeing her curiously.

"Tha' depends," Dwalin said, eyeing her suspiciously. She could hear it ringing through his song-he didn't trust her one inch. "What's it do?"

Confound Dwarrow and their innate stubborn nature. They were going to lose the rest of the Company in this accursed forest, if they didn't do this, and she didn't have time to dilly-dally if she wanted to save Kíli. Bramble took a deep breath and slowly counted to ten to keep her frustration under wraps.

"It keeps you awake, Master Dwalin," said Gandalf, before Bramble could speak up. "And makes you resistant to any sort of song or poison that attempts to put you to sleep, even the powerful suggestions of this forest."

Dwalin looked over at Bramble in surprise, and she shrugged, trying to ignore the sudden resonance between his song and the rest of them as it echoed through her ears. All of them-all, save Gandalf, were feeling that in unison. Eru, she was going to be utterly bloody useless if this kept happening! It was almost like she hadn't even taken the herb mixture this morning before they left!

"Might I have your recipe for it?" Dori inquired, as Bramble passed Fíli three herb pouches. "And how much do we need?"

"Half a waterskin each, if they're about Fíli's size," Bramble replied, wincing as an urgent sense of DANGER rolled through her from the Forest around them. She swallowed. Please, let it just be the aftereffects of the vision. Please. "Share the waterskins and keep some on hand," she cautioned, "just in case-oh, and take that out in exactly three minutes, or you will be sorry!" she warned Ori.

Startled, Ori pulled it out exactly on time, as did her brother Dori, and Dwalin "Why might that be, Mister Bramble?" she asked.

Bramble snorted "It makes you act rather like a drunken chipmunk-both incredibly loud and incredibly fast. But the price is not worth paying, given that you have no self-control and no memory of the events later."

The Dwarrow eyed the drink with considerably more caution this time, and then Dori tried it, wincing at the flavor "Why would anyone drink so much of it?" he asked, confused.

Bramble chuckled, thinking back to the last time Elladan had visited the Shire. "He only drank a mouthful of it, and it was on a dare. I believe a mischievous fauntling thought it would be funny to watch an Elf starting to sing ballads and dancing like a crazed chipmunk through the Shire."

Most of the living Hobbits now didn't really remember that night, but Bramble did. It had been her twenty-first birthday, and she'd found it hilarious. That being said, it had been quite some time ago; not that she thought Gandalf remembered. Bramble didn't know how much he knew, but the idea of it doing such a thing to an Elf was meant to warn them.

She was not prepared for the sudden spike of mirth and happy, light tones through all of their songs as they downed half the herbal mix. Dwalin was the first to break down into guffaws, and was shortly joined by the rest of the Dwarrow, and Gandalf, who had been present to see Elladan completely lose his composure and act like a child again. Mirth and happy songs filled Bramble's chest, warming her as she remembered Elladan.

Elladan, who had never, never lived that down in her generation of faunts. Their laughter was infectious, but Bramble could only manage a light chuckle, trying very hard not to let her laughter join the group's, no matter how funny it was. It was too noticeable, and too musical, for her to feel comfortable letting it loose at all.

And besides, it would out her as a woman if she laughed.

Fíli called "Would've been quite a sight, seeing an Elf prancing around like that. Wait," he looked at Bramble, "Why was an Elf in the Shire anyway?"

"It's a bit of a long story, and I'll tell you as we ride," Bramble promised, the trees' alarm growing a little bit louder "Honestly, I will-we just need to move, before the things Uncle Tom usually takes care of come out." She saw Gandalf glance at her warily, and she gestured to the Dwarrow "Well, hurry up now; we haven't got all day!"

Time was ticking by. Precious time she could be using to save the Dwarrow still captured in the Forest. The Company laughed again, falling into place behind her with Fíli just behind her. She urged Minty into a canter, followed by the Dwarrow.

"Don't you have to whistle to find them?" asked Fíli as they started to speed up.

Bramble cursed, having forgotten about that; she began to whistle again, this time a little more intently as the path opened up before them. The Forest brushed against her, trying to fill it with her song, but she defied it, whistling a sharp, warning tune against it until the resonance began to show her the way to the missing Dwarrow. The Dwarrow might be disappointed, but she had to get to them, and fast.

Before the Trees, or something bigger, came after them. The Forest was afraid, but of what, she couldn't be sure right now. It couldn't be anything good-the last time she had come up against this, it had been because of the Fell Winter, so many years ago. The same winter she'd lost both her parents.

That didn't bode well for the Dwarrow she had yet to rescue.

As they were cresting the hill to get to the clearing where Óin, Glóin, the one who couldn't speak anything other than Khuzdûl, and his cousins, lay, their songs suddenly, abruptly weakened. Faintly, she felt Kíli-the dark-haired one-ring out, and a pulse of something dark and so, so cold crashed into her through the songs. Bramble went rigid as a cold chill swept through her, emptying her of all feeling for a second before she felt it, like a sliver of ice through her heart, and something white-hot erupted into her chest. She gasped, trying to breathe as her whistling song was cut off and the Forest began to creak and groan beneath the-foulness she could feel.

Eru, but it was awful. Bramble began to shiver, despite the warmth of the day, feeling the chill settling through her into her bones even as the heat in her chest began to expand.

Bramble tried not to cry as she slumped in her saddle, forcing the Dwarrow and Gandalf to a halt. She couldn't even breathe; by Eru, but it burned at her, like something from beyond the Halls of Mandos.

Whatever it was, Bramble would give anything not to accidentally start destroying the Forest. The white-hot flame in her chest was driving back the cold, but if she whistled now, she ran the risk of her herb wearing off.

"Mister Bramble?" Fíli's voice echoed through her mind, even as she tried to push back the black, oily feeling of wrong that had started to invade her very insides. Something was definitely wrong. "Mister Bramble, are you all right?"

Bramble took a shuddering gasp, squinting up at the sunlight outlining Fíli, so faint she would have missed it had she not been paying closer attention-it wasn't sunlight. It couldn't be. It was something else, since it was outlining his whole body. If not for right now, she would not have seen it at all.

Fíli, unlike his uncle, was at least not wreathed in blue fire. He was wreathed in a soft gold, and his song was quieter than normal, too, with the cold-she grabbed for it, listening intently as she tried to ground herself.

"I…" she couldn't even really speak, not with the vice grip on her chest.

"Tharkûn!" shouted Fíli, or it seemed like he was shouting-was he? "Tharkûn, something's happened to our burglar!"

Gandalf began to trot forward, and Bramble tried, gasping, to breathe again, but she couldn't even really suck in a deep breath of air. Her eyes slipped closed, just for a second-Kíli was thrown from his pony, flying through the air into ghostly arms-he was pale, unmoving, as skeletal hands grasped him-his eyes were closed and his skin was ghostly white-he was dragged along the ground, into a hole-no warmth, no fire, nothing to light-he was fading, he couldn't breathe-a warm hand on her shoulder snapped her eyes open again.

"I say, now,"said Gandalf, looking down at her with a warm twinkle in his eyes "Are you all right?"

"I," Bramble coughed, gasping for air again but this time, she could breathe. "I think so. I…Fíli, we have to go, now." She could feel herself shaking, "The Forest-it-it warned me, oh Eru," she breathed, shaking her head "We have to find the others, now!"

She couldn't sit here. Not with the heat in her chest, trying to kindle its way into a roaring bonfire, and not with the danger Kíli was in. Not now. That-that-thing had him, and it wasn't going to let him go, it was so hungry…

"What do you mean, my dear Hobbit?" Gandalf was staring down at her, his double-timbred song echoing with concern "Are you well?"

Well? WELL? She was fine. She could keep going; that didn't mean anything, when it came to Kíli's wellbeing. He was being taken into the darkness and he was going to slip away from them if they didn't get there soon, and they were only halfway through this blasted forest! She had to ask the trees for help…

Ask the trees? They wanted to keep her here.

But she had no choice. She had to find Tom.

"I told you, I'm fine," she shrugged off Gandalf's hand "Trust me on this, Gandalf." In Quenya, she added "Kíli needs us. We have to move quickly; something's taken him."

At the sound of Bramble's first word in Quenya, Gandalf's eyes went wide. He locked eyes with her, staring into them as if his searching, deep gray-blue eyes could see into her very soul. Bramble didn't care what he saw; she didn't have time for that.

No one deserved the fate Kíli had set out for him if they didn't fight off that Wight.

"How do you know this?" Gandalf replied in the same language, visibly shaken. Any other time, Bramble might have been stunned at managing to shock the wizard "What told you?"

Bramble swallowed. She had sworn to her mother to keep her gifts a secret, but that seemed to mean very little, in comparison to the danger Kíli was in right now. That power of hers might save him, and it might not but the Dwarrow would never trust her if she showed that. She couldn't just outright show her peculiarities.

But maybe Gandalf could help her. Maybe he would believe her.

"You saw me," whispered Bramble, "The trees told me, now we have to move or he will die." She took a deep breath and whistled four sharp notes, crystal-clear against the air, sending a shiver down everyone's spine save her own.

The resonance of the brothers' songs was much louder now. Thank Eru-had the forest moved them closer? Bramble doubted it, but it might have tried to help her. She took a deep breath, turning Minty towards the path that opened up before them at the sound of the whistle. The brothers Óin and Glóin were this way, and the cousins, with the addled Dwarf were just beyond them. Trotting forward, she missed the befuddled gazes of the Dwarrow on her back, and the contemplative look on Gandalf's face as she held the warmth tightly in her chest, keeping it compressed to a small spark, driving away the cold.

In no time at all, they came upon the brothers Óin and Glóin. Óin had woken up a few moments ago and was shouting abuse in Khuzdûl, struggling against his bonds and a tree branch gag. He looked somewhat hilarious, especially as Glóin slumbered on.

Bramble didn't even bother getting down from her pony, seeing their ponies grazing in the grass next to the trees.

She whistled. She didn't have time to be afraid, not now; not even with the fear pulsing through her chest, making her heartbeat quick like a sparrow's and lighter on her feet than normal, as well. She whistled once in warning, and the tree shrank back, Glóin stirring against the bark-he had to be Glóin, because he had red hair and Óin had graying, darker red hair.

"I said, let him go," hissed Bramble, whistling very, very sharply this time, sharply enough that she noticed Ori wince. "I'm sorry, Master Ori," she said, right as the tree dropped both of them, limbs snapping back sharply as it creaked at her, warningly. "You, behave," she muttered, staring down the tree "You know where I'm going."

The tree creaked in return, groaning out a reply in an image and a short story all in one-Bramble, lying on her back as skeletal hands pulled her deeper into its hole/hunger-pain-fear-sick-desire-Bramble shook her head to clear it of the pollen the tree had used to send the image. She stared it down, refusing to admit to the way color began to fade from her cheeks, before she remembered the spark, and held onto it. She had never been outside the borders of the Shire before. But she had no time now.

She was the only one who even knew how to find Kíli in the Barrow-Downs. If that meant going up against this-sick thing, whatever it was, she would do it. She could not consign Kíli to a soulless death with Fíli looking on and mourning.

"Up you get, Master Óin," she said, when Óin finally finished cursing, tossing him the herbs she had used "Share this with your brother, and leave it in your cold water for three minutes, no longer, lest you end up the way the Elf that tried to imbibe that drink on a dare did."

"Ye still haven't told that story!" shouted Dwalin as Óin dropped the herbs into the water.

Bramble smirked "Well, the Elf in question might just kill me if he knew I told Dwarrow about it." She caught Óin's eye as he lifted the herb bundle out, sniffing at it. "Master Óin, we need to hurry," she said, "I will share the recipe for these with you later, but right now, Master Kíli is in grave danger and we need to find him."

Kíli's name made Fíli trot up beside her, which made Minty snort. As Óin bellowed at Glóin until he took the other half, and both of them complained about the bitterness, Fíli turned to her.

"What d'you mean, my brother's in danger?" Fíli's warm eyes were narrowed and his song was filled with cold, harsh fear and more than a little anger "Why didn't you say so before?"

Bramble gritted her teeth against the pressure of his song. The visions the Forest seemed intent on giving her were making the herb's effect weaken, and Fíli sounded ever louder, driving her to feel sicker and sicker every time he did this. The feeling in his song was so deep it might have made her cry, were she completely and totally unblocked.

"Because before," she managed through the pressure of all of their songs, which had quickly followed Fíli's in surrounding her "The Forest wasn't terrified of what was happening to him. Why," she took another breath against the pressure, and the heat in her ribcage, which she was surprised hadn't seared through the chest binding at least "do you think I stopped just now? Believe me, I want to find him," she had to take another breath "as much as you do, Master Fíli."

"What does that mean, lad?" Glóin asked as he finished the waterskin and mounted "The Forest is afraid?"

Bramble swallowed at the suspicion in his song "I can hear the Forest, Master Glóin," she explained quickly "The trees. They speak in pictures, sensations and other things but the sense of need is too strong for me to ignore. Now, we really need to move, and find the last members of the Company before we go after Master Kíli. Believe me, whatever's taken him is stronger than anything you've ever faced; the Forest is only frightened if things like Orcs and Goblins exist within their branches."

And it had never been as coldly terrified as it was now, not in all of her lifetime. The urgency was enough to make the two Dwarrow fall in line very quickly, back with Dwalin and Balin, their horses tied together. Gandalf trotted up beside her, but slightly to the right as they made their way quickly to the remaining Dwarrow-aside from Thorin and Kíli.

"Check your saddlebags," Bramble called "I wouldn't trust this Forest not to steal from you!" The Dwarrow did a quick cursory check, but nothing was missing-not even from Gandalf's saddlebags. "Good," she said, as they came upon the large oak.

The cousins were all lashed to an oak tree close to their ponies, each with their own saddlebags. From here on out, Bramble knew the Forest would be trying much harder to keep her here, despite originally allowing her to pass, so it might not listen to her as easily as it should have. That being said, she had a weapon of her own to use against it, should it try to keep her here.

"Master Bifur," she greeted, seeing that the addled Dwarf was awake, and gently stroking one of the blossoms attached to the tree branches holding him in place.

The tree creaked as he smiled, greeting her in Khuzdûl, his song resonating against those of his cousins as his eyes seemed to light up a little. It was strangely respectful, for one of the Company at least-the rest of them had all but dismissed her as a grocer before now. But that didn't mean much, given that she endeavored to resemble something like a grocer-even if it did sting a little to be considered as such.

"Let him go," she said, looking dead at the oak. The oak creaked, but nothing happened. Bramble frowned "Do we really need to go through this again?" she had had enough with this old forest.

Whatever darkness was out there in the forest, it seemed to be deliberately impeding her attempts at getting closer to it. She whistled sharply, the commanding note almost enough to make the Forest drop it, but not quite. The tree defiantly held all three Dwarrow up in front of her, moving them so they weren't touching the ground. Bramble felt the heat in her chest constrict slightly, the spark growing hotter, and she took a deep breath, reveling in the warmth it brought her and the way the shadow seemed to retreat a little.

Then she began to whistle again, which might not have been strong enough save for the fact that she was deliberately whistling the tune of the Old Forest. The trees creaked and groaned, a strong breeze picking up and blowing through the clearing as it slowly deposited the three Dwarrow on the ground, releasing the sole imprisoned pony as well as the other two's saddles and bridles. She kept whistling, the leaping sounds of the Old Forest younger than any she had ever sounded out before, but it was enough to make the trees retreat a little from the path.

Slumping a little, Bramble glanced down at the three Dwarrow. She was really straining at the limits of the herb's power now. Bifur seemed to be staring at her a little too intently for comfort, and she could tell the rest of the Company was staring at her as if they had never seen her before. even Gandalf, which was starting to make her wish she could squirm away and hide in here. Their eyes were intent on her back, thankfully, and not on her front or they might have noticed.

At least the last two Dwarrow were being more polite. The one with the tight, springy dark braids and old hat appeared to be gaping at her, while the addled one said something reverently in Khuzdûl and bowed his head to her. She had the feeling it was out of respect, from what she could see of his face.

The second one, the one with the weird hat, stared at her, mouth open in shock "Are ye serious, Bif?" he managed, in Common this time. His song rang through her head with a loud clang-crash, white flickering around him temporarily "Really?"

"What's the matter?" asked the kindly-sounding round one. "What's the rush for?" his song rang with confusion, resonating with the addled one's and the addled one's cousin's songs.

"Get your stuff an' git moving," Dwalin barked, "Now! Form a line, use the drink Mister Baggins gives ye to stay awake, and follow us-we got ta move, quick!"

At least one of them seemed to be taking her warning seriously. Though, Bramble amended, Master Dwalin was probably taking it at face value because they couldn't afford for her to be wrong; not because he trusted her to be telling the truth.

Dwalin's orders, though, did the trick, as the three Dwarrow quickly snapped out of their daze and ran to their ponies. Things flew this way and that, cymbals crashing around her ears and drums pounding in unison as they scrambled for their ponies, hitching their weapons on and connecting themselves to the line. It only took them moments to be completely ready to leave-well, moments to her, which could have been a lot longer.

The wind was roaring through her ears and her stomach was turning flips. The Old Forest was pressing at her senses, working against her suppressions and forcing her to try and take a breath to whistle. Darkness loomed at the edges of her vision, which also swam with dark spots. The Dwarrow's songs began to roar into her ears, distant and yet closer than they had ever been before. The pressure was building and Bramble could barely breathe, let alone whistle.

The only thing she could do was hold onto her pony's saddle.

Then the pressure eased, vanishing as quickly as it had come.

It was only for a moment, but for all Bramble knew it could have been a lot longer. They could have entered Rivendell and she wouldn't have known. She sat in her saddle, dizzily breathing in and out, and trying not to cough or scream in fright. Screaming would make her look like a nutter, and coughing would mean she was sick, which she wasn't. She didn't have time for this.

Someone touched her arm, thankfully through the shirt sleeve, and shook it gently. Bramble jerked, looking up into the sharply-lined face of an Elf-Gandalf.

"Are you well enough to continue, my dear Hobbit?" he asked, concerned.

"Y-yeah, fine," Bramble stammered, cursing herself for letting her concentration slip. The Dwarrow were gathered now "We need to find Master Oakenshield." She cleared her throat, and looked at the forest meaningfully.

Because who knew what would be waiting for them when they finally caught up with Kíli. For all she knew, it could mean Kíli's death, or worse. All she knew was what she had seen not fifteen minutes before, and that if she had seen it, it would happen eventually.

"Then lead on," said Gandalf, his eyes twinkling curiously down at her.

Well, drat. That was a problem she'd have to explain away at some point. There was no way Gandalf would let his questions lie for long enough for her to come up with a decent lie, or explain it away as suddenly feeling faint. He knew Hobbits too well for him to believe that.

Perhaps after she found the last two Dwarrow she could explain herself to Gandalf.

"Aye," said Bramble, taking a deep breath and stretching out.

She almost instantly regretted it, as the songs of eleven Dwarrow thundered against her mind, temporarily deafening her before Gandalf's song got in the way, distracting her. She couldn't hear Thorin's song over this, but her skin wasn't tingling like it had been since she was around him, so he wasn't around here. The Forest's song pushed at her, trying to keep her here, and separate her from the songs of the Dwarrow, but she pushed back against it, starting to whistle again. Whistling pushed the Forest's song back after a moment, though she could sense it was only grudgingly doing so. It hated her song, every note of it, for forcing it to stay away from her.

She tried not to think about what that meant about the Forest. It wasn't good, and it really would have made her sick had she thought about it for too long.

As her warbling whistle rose and fell into a sharper, almost hunt-like melody, a path opened beyond where the last three Dwarrow had been trapped with their ponies. She took this path immediately, whistling notes that would resonate more deeply with Thorin's song than any other-though Fíli's song kept resonating as well, and she could hear him gasping as the more similar notes resonated with his song. The Dwarrow were also more alert, and on the lookout helping her, which helped as every time one of them yelped she whistled a quick four-note sequence that had the Forest retreating.

It really didn't like what she was doing, but it liked going against her even less.

After about half an hour, during about half of which Bramble felt they had been walking in circles, Bramble finally felt the familiar tingling resonance against her skin that meant Thorin was nearby. The song had been lightly resonating for the last two minutes, but this meant they were getting closer. And while she hated it, it was easy to find him since his song played merry havoc with her senses.

From the sounds of it, he was also starting to wake up. He was also very, very much angry with his situation, the anger powering his song and crashing through her defenses like water breaking a dam. Bramble grimaced at the feeling, trying to rebuild her defenses, but it was like Thorin had trampled right through the dam and over it. She would have to rebuild that later, or she'd get another really, really bad headache. The idea of dealing with an angry, moody Thorin Oakenshield didn't make her pause, though; she really didn't want to deal with this. But she had to, or Fíli would lose his brother.

The Forest trembled a little as she started going a little faster, urging Minty onward as the urgency of finding Kíli forced her onward. Bramble kept whistling, and whistling loud.

"You blasted son of a-" she soon heard from the clearing ahead, and trotting forward, she found that there lay Thorin, struggling mightily against the tree.

It was not just any tree that had trapped him, though, and Bramble was not happy to find this, either. Her uncle was not around, or she might have been able to ask his help, but this was Old Man Willow. She'd passed Old Man Willow earlier and seen no Dwarf-ah, that had been a clever trick on the Forest's part. Bramble wasn't pleased, but the Forest felt smug that she hadn't managed to see him sooner. She added a few sharper notes to the song, seriously considering adding her fiddle for a few moments because this bloody Forest wanted to keep her so badly.

Thorin was struggling against the willow's branches, his feet dug into the ground and what looked like stone trying to keep him from going in-but she wasn't sure, as his feet were also covered in dry leaves. His song was loud, blaring, almost threateningly so, and the blue fire around him threatened to set the tree on fire. Bramble was honestly surprised he hadn't set the Forest on fire with the way his fire was snapping about. Willow had managed to trap all of Thorin's limbs in one way or another, but there were a few broken branches and loose stones around, attesting to how difficult it was to keep Thorin still.

Old Man Willow had truly met his match here today, if Thorin was awake and struggling after being captured nearly an hour and a half ago. No Hobbit, Man, or Elf had ever lasted this long against Old Man Willow.

"Ach, let him go," shouted one of the Dwarrow, followed by an answering roar from the rest of the party. It was-Dori, she thought, still shouting at the tree, "Let him go I said," bellowed the Dwarf, about to jump down from his horse when Gandalf intervened.

"If you touch that tree, Master Dori, you will be trapped as well. Stay your hand," he looked to Bramble "I believe we have a mutual friend who frequents the forest around this time?"

She knew who he was talking about, but was somewhat surprised that Gandalf knew him. Tom was a Hobbit legend; she didn't know how many of the other races he interacted with.

"He's not around right now," Bramble replied "He spends today with Goldberry, his wife," Gandalf sagged, looking wearier than she'd ever seen on an Elf, and she gave Gandalf an encouraging smile "I think I've got this. The Forest likes me, Gandalf."

"Oh, and what can a Halfling do to free me?" snarled Thorin, snapping at her with eyes blazing, filled with blue fire "I suppose you're just going to sing a little dolly, are you?"

Dolly. That was it. Bramble knew what to do, now; her whistling wasn't doing much, not with how strong Willow was, but the song-the song might work. She just had to work really, really hard at keeping it as…as far away from a real song as possible. If that was possible.

She'd have to, or Thorin would die here, a prisoner of Old Man Willow, and nothing would stop the Company from destroying the Old Forest.

"Hey doll, merry doll," she said, murmuring just loud enough for Willow to freeze at the sudden use of Tom's song, and she silently thanked Thorin. "Ring a dong dillo."

The entire tree froze now, all of its attention focused on her now, letting Thorin wrench himself free of one of the branches holding one of his arms back. He began struggling to free his other arm as the tree started to creak; it swiftly moved to cover him, but Bramble let out a merry, musical laugh, a sound that she knew it would interpret as another threat. The laugh made the tree freeze again, Old Man Willow paying attention to her instead of Thorin.

This let Thorin free his other arm.

"Ho, Tom Bombadil, is a merry fellow," she continued, swinging her arms along, making it sound as much like a chant as anything "Bright blue his jacket is, and his boots are yellow. Hey! Come, merry doll," Thorin was still struggling, but the tree was retreating, "Old Man Willow," she whistled sharply afterward. "Derry doll and Merry-o! Poor Old Willow-man, tuck your roots away," she was starting to feel the heat in her chest again but Thorin's weapons were abruptly coming out of nowhere, spat out by the tree, and his pony was quickly ushered away from the roots of the tree as if it had been there the whole time.

So she could press on, for a little bit longer. She could stop when he was free. Bramble just had to focus on keeping the fire from spreading. Holding on tightly to that little sliver of warmth in her chest, Bramble clamped down on it, focusing on the tree, glaring at it and letting it feel the height of her disapproval with its actions.

""You tuck your roots away, now, 'fore evenin' comes an' the willow grows, bark on the meadow-now," she was sure she'd mangled some of the words, but the tree snapped back and away at her command, letting Thorin go.

Bramble got the chance to breathe, one last time, before the warmth in her chest strained and tried to ignite, the songs blasting through her ears, leaving her woozy.

She was dimly aware of someone trying to get her attention, even as she swayed in her saddle, the gong resounding through Thorin's song, filling with anger, and the tickling feeling under her skin, and a warming in her chest, warning her she had gone maybe a bit too far this time. Bramble gasped, managing to throw her head back before she toppled forward and did a flip out of the saddle, trying to center herself, but the Old Forest was too far away for her to hear, now, amidst the Company's songs and-oh, and Gandalf's, too. Having the warmth in her chest meant the herb wouldn't work on her, though, so she glanced around, trying to figure out who was speaking to her.

The cacophony of sound was so loud she couldn't hear for at least a minute, after the herb's blessed silence wore off…

And then she heard it, a thunderous sound like roaring fire or the clap of a thunderbolt, as Thorin's enraged face invaded her field of vision and his song overtook her senses. His bells were ringing so loudly she nearly cried out in pain, and he was not a foot from her face now. He was now on his pony, whose name she had long-since forgotten, fire crackling through his song and warming her insides despite her best efforts to ignore it, to ignore the tingling and the sound on her skin, and his anger was pressing in on her from all sides, thundering through her, trying to stoke the fire that still tingled in her chest.

"You," he seemed to be saying, but she couldn't make out any more than that.

Bramble had to hold up her hand, because his anger was so acute that it was making it hard to breathe. She was all but gasping now, trying to hold that sliver of warmth in her chest to just a sliver, to keep it from becoming bigger. She couldn't let it free. She couldn't let it go. She was aware that the whole Company was staring at her, but right now the warmth and the anger was just making her sick.

Oh Eru, she was going to be sick. She could hardly focus on keeping the nausea down and keeping the warmth away. So she picked, quickly, to keep any further harm from coming to anyone.

"How DARE-" Thorin was cut off from actually speaking to her when Bramble leant down to the left, and promptly vomited up her last three meals.

Thorin's anger shoved at her, filling her in a way her food couldn't and increasing her nausea until it was so acute that she couldn't quit retching. Not until her stomach was completely empty, and she was aware that Minty was moving away from the sick every time it happened, but she could barely stay sat in the saddle. His anger was so strong, so strong it was going to knock her out…

And then it vanished, as quickly as it had come, into a confusion resonating through his entire song. Dizzy, Bramble fumbled, managing to wipe her mouth on a handkerchief and barely keeping her seat as Minty began to prance away from the sick yet again. Thorin's pony was also moving backwards. She really wasn't all that aware now, with the way the Dwarrow's songs invaded the emptiness that followed, in a harmonious cacophony of sound. All of it had just been overwhelmed with Thorin's roaring anger, but now that that had fizzled down to a more-ah, there it was again, throwing her for a loop.

She'd probably just made a fool of herself, but her head was starting to ache, and if the world could stop spinning, she'd be a lot happier.

"Can the world stop spinning now?" Bramble asked weakly, as she slumped down on Minty's back, feeling the warmth starting to diminish, thankful she was only touching Minty through clothes, as Thorin pulled his pony up short in surprise. She noticed the Forest starting to weave its way around them and turned, snapping "Don't you dare! I just wasted some perfectly good medicine cleaning up your bloody mess," she snarled, glaring at Old Man Willow and the Forest around him. "I have no patience to do it again!" The Forest kept moving, though, and Bramble's voice grew icy "I said, cut that out, right now, before I let them set you on fire."

The trees abruptly stopped moving. Of course, that could be because someone had come up behind her, and was keeping her from spinning or falling out of her saddle, but still. Her explosion of temper was probably enough to convince Thorin to back off-or at least, to have this ruddy argument out of this bloody Forest that seemed intent on making her sick and exhausted. She really, really hoped that stubborn Dwarf wasn't going to get it into his head to blame her for all that had just happened.

"Now, now," said Gandalf, smiling kindly at her "I think the Forest has had quite enough scolding for one day, my dear Hobbit. Are you well enough to continue?" he asked, sending a sharp glare in the direction of the Dwarf she assumed to be Thorin.

It had to be Thorin-the humiliation echoing through his song was sharp enough, sounding a bit like an Elvish horn. She was too tired to smile, or she would. She needed a break, now, but she didn't have the luxury of one.

"Yeah, just…need some water," Bramble admitted "I'm all right, Gandalf. Just tired of this place," she wasn't lying, either-a wizard could always tell, after all. Sinking forward on her saddle, she grabbed for the waterskin she had doctored, and was surprised to find it gone. Gandalf handed it to her, "Thanks, Gandalf."

The warmth was gone from her chest, so the herb would actually work. She hoped. The bitter taste of the herb-laced water sent a jolt through her spine, making her shudder, and sit up straight. It contained enough caffeine, and enough cardamom, cinnamon, and vanilla to ease most of her problems, including the headache, and mercifully it would also grant her another reprieve. Bramble straightened after a little bit, drinking a bit more of the doctored water each time, and when she had finally, finally managed to sit up again, the Dwarrow appeared to all be waiting for her.

Although, now, some of them were a bit warier of her than they'd been before, while others, like Ori, seemed to be in awe of her.

It was obvious now, who was on Thorin's side, and who wasn't. The ones on Thorin's side were giving her sidelong looks and muttering something-she thought she could see something about weakness on their lips-and their songs were resonating badly against the ones that weren't on his side. The resonance was faint, thankfully due to the medicine, or it would have made her sick. The ones that weren't included Dori, Bifur, and Bofur of course, as Bifur's translator, as well as Ori and Nori. The others, aside from Fili who just plain didn't care as long as they found Kili, were on Thorin's side.

Lovely, they thought she had something to do with this mess. Probably that she'd orchestrated it or some story like it. Just…that was just bloody lovely.

"Just my luck," mumbled Bramble, not sure which language she was using, as she finished gulping down the herb water. "We need to go, now," she raised her voice, earning herself several glares immediately. She ignored it "This forest likes me," she said, "which is why it's being so irritating today. It doesn't want me to leave."

"Oh, nice and Elvish of you," snapped Thorin "What next, you call down a battalion of Elves on my Company? If I had my way, I'd leave you in the Shire, right where you belong. This is no place for an Elf-lover."

Seriously, the Dwarf could stand to bloody think for a moment! Couldn't he see how angry she was about the whole situation?

No, she answered her own question, because if he could, he wouldn't be shouting at her like this.

Bramble bristled, spitting back "You think I want it to be practically in love with me? I never asked for this!" she snapped "And if my uncle hadn't been home with his wife this wouldn't have happened! That being said, Master Kíli's not in the Forest-he's beyond it," Thorin moved to object, and she continued, barreling right over him "And the Barrow-Downs is home to several Wights, so you'll excuse me for wanting to leave the forest as soon as bloody possible to cross the Barrow-Downs before dark and find him before he stumbles down a Wight Barrow!"

That said, Bramble, noticing that they weren't exactly lashed to her anymore, turned her pony and started toward the edge of the woods at a slow pace, letting her hear what they were saying.

"I don't trust this Hobbit of yours," Thorin sneered at Gandalf, obviously not caring who heard him. Gandalf bristled, glaring back at Thorin, and was about to reply but Thorin continued, "But if my sister-son is truly in danger, and he speaks the truth, we can't afford not to follow him. Come," the Company followed her, Thorin with his eyes on her back, she could feel, out of the Forest.

And into the Barrow-Downs, home of the Wights of the Witch-King of Angmar.

Why, again, had Bramble wanted to leave the Shire? Home was looking like a pretty good option right now. She really, really could stand to go home and tend her garden. Just stay in the Shire. Stay where she was mad old Bramble, the un-aging Hobbit of Bag End. Right, that was why she didn't want to go home. The stares were quite enough to make even the most patient Hobbit crack, and she'd had quite enough of being a novelty for people to tell their children about.

She could have picked a different way to leave, though. Here she was, looking for a lost Dwarven prince who was alone in the Barrow-Downs. Probably wandering into a Wight hole. Eru, she really hoped she didn't butt heads with Master Thorin Oakenshield the entire trip, or she would really end up doing something stupid to him. Hmm, maybe she could just slather honey in his shampoo the next time he bothered her, or convince the nearby wildlife to steal his clothing…

But, she acknowledged, there had to be a good dwarf underneath all the grumpy attitude and bluster of Master Oakenshield. She just hadn't seen it yet, even if it was in his song. She had to believe it was there, because the songs never lied. And it was loud, too, which meant he was honest about his beliefs, and who he was.

More honest than most. That had to count for something, right?

He also had a devoted Company of followers. Surely, someone as nice as Ori wouldn't follow a complete lunatic? But she'd never know unless she gave him that chance. Stubborn, bull-headed Dwarf! If he would only bloody listen to her about the dangers they were in, they wouldn't even be in this situation!

AND cut.

Yep, that's exactly what Thorin's going to be like until after Rivendell. He might change his outlook a bit, after Bramble saves more of the people he loves, but right now, he's got absolutely no reason to trust Bramble. And she's talking to trees, which all Dwarrow know is something only Elves can do. He's suspicious, and rightly so, because she's keeping a lot from the Company and clearly has no intentions of sharing it.

That being said, he's also being a bit of a douche, and Bramble's really sick of it. She'd like him to shut up and listen to her, but he doesn't do that, so they're at a bit of an impasse because both are used to people shutting up and listening to them, or not bothering to talk to them in the first place.

Also, the tingling sensation is really starting to bug Bramble. She does her best to ignore it, but it's still there. Still poking at her when she's not interested in it. She's not interested in finding out what that blue fire is; she just wants to be left alone and maybe not treated like she's an intellectual curiosity to everyone around her.

Yes, next chapter is the Barrow-Downs. You can imagine where this is going, or maybe you can't. Honestly, this is actually the most fun-if the most difficult-story I've ever written, because everyone of my characters will have POVs at one point and will most likely become very fond of Bramble… Gah, most of the time it's like herding cats, though, so I get stuck at random points in the story for no real reason other than the characters refuse to behave.

But, enough of my griping. THIS CHAPTER IS FINALLY DONE. It took me a year, but here are ~13,000 words continuing her story!

Note to everyone who was concerned: I'm okay, just had a bit of a rough semester back when I was trying to finish this before, due to injury, and then had to work REALLY hard the next semester. So, I'm ok now, just RL problems.

Second Note: I update sporadically-chances are, this story will be updated sporadically, as a result. Holidays and school breaks are about the only writing time I have during the semester and outside it, to be completely honest, so...yeah. I'll try to get a bit ahead for this story before I go back to school so I can update it during the semester, given that I've had ample writing time this summer.