Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hello everyone, welcome to 'Save Us'!

➡️ This is my first work in AO3, and I decided to post it here and in Wattpad because I feel like the Hobbit community is bigger here…? Anyway, I truly wanted this work to have an audience, as it is one of my (in my humble opinion) best works and my comeback to writing.

➡️ My first language is not English (your gal is Portuguese), so please forgive any mistakes you may find!

➡️ As you might have noticed, I will follow the canon Hobbit Trilogy, (and later, maybe in this book or in another one, the 'Lord of the Rings' trilogy as well). However, I will add my Original Character, Mäetharanel, as well as some others. Mäeth is going to be a main character.

➡️Mäetharanel will be paired up with Thorin, but I don't want them to be all lovey-dovey. I want it to be obvious that they are in love and feel as if they are each other's One, but I don't want them to be too ew.

➡️ The fic will contain flashbacks, and is going to start some centuries before 'An Unexpected Journey', for historical and logical reasons… I'd not dare put Legolas mother alive during the journey, for example, It'd go against my plot!

➡️ Through my writing, I will be adding both Sindarin and Silvan for elvish and Kuzhdul for dwarven speech, as well as Dark Speech for orcs. Yet, I am not familiar with these languages and will be mainly using translators and dictionaries (The Dwarrow Scholar, for Kuzdhul, is going to be one of them). So, bear with me if you notice any mistakes and do correct me, please! I'll make sure to thank you.

➡️ I will also be using the scripts from the film, but will slightly alter some things due to Mäeth and other characters being there. It's a canon fic, but it won't fully follow everything, ya know? I'll add some things!

I guess that is all…? If not, I'll just add it later! Thank you for reading all of this, and enjoy your reading!

Isaka_san

Chapter Text

My dear Frodo, you asked me once if I had told you everything there was to know about my adventures. And while I can honestly say I have told you the truth, I may not have told you all of it. I am old now, Frodo. I'm not the same hobbit I once was. I think it is time for you to know what really happened. It began long ago in a land far away to the East. The like of which you will not find in the world today.

There was the city of Dale. Its markets known far and wide, full of the bounties of vine and vale, peaceful and prosperous. For this city lay before the doors of the greatest kingdom in Middle-Earth, Erebor. Stronghold of Thror, king under the mountain. The mightiest of the dwarf lords. Thror ruled with utter surety, never doubting his house would endure, for his line lay secure in the lives of his son and grandson.

Ah, Frodo. Erebor. Built deep within the mountain itself, the beauty of this fortress city was legend. Its wealth lay in the earth, in precious gems hewn from rock, and in great seams of gold running like rivers through stone. The skill of the dwarves was unequalled. Fashioning objects of great beauty, out of diamond, emerald, ruby and sapphire. Ever they delved deeper down into the dark, and that is where they found it. The heart of the mountain, the Arkenstone. Thror named it the king's jewel. He took it as a sign, a sign that his right to rule was divine. All would pay homage to him. Even the great Elven king, Thranduil.

Thranduil and several elves go to the throne, and both kings bow their heads towards each other. A chest opens for Thranduil to see, whose eyes glow when the gems are seen and goes to touch them until the dwarf holding the chest closes it abruptly before he can touch it.

As the great wealth of the Dwarves grew, their store of good will ran thin. No one knows exactly what began the rift. The Elves say the Dwarves stole their treasure. The Dwarves tell another tale. They say the Elf King refused to give them their rightful pay. It is sad, Frodo, how old alliances can be broken. How friendships between peoples can be lost. And for what? But the years of peace and plenty were not to last. Slowly the days turned sour, and the watchful nights closed in.

Thror's love of gold had grown too fierce. A sickness had begun to grow within him. It was a sickness of the mind. And where sickness thrives, bad things will follow.

Thorin stood far away looking as Thror is surrounded by gold, and eventually stepped into the shadows, wishing to see no more.

The first they heard was a noise like a hurricane, coming down from the North. The pines on the mountain creaked and cracked in the hot, dry wind.

"Balin, sound the alarm", a flag flew pass him, and he ducked, "Call out the guards, do it now!"

"What is it?", asked the confused dwarf.

"Dragon", then, he turned to the citizens in the mountain, "Dragon!"

He was a Fire drake from the North. Smaug had come! Such wanton death was dealt that day, for this city of men was nothing to Smaug. His eye was set on another prize. For dragons covet gold with a dark and fierce desire.

In a land nearby, in the kingdom of Doriath, an elf had felt the difference in the air. She was connected to the Earth in a much deeper way. She felt its sorrows, and its happiness. Sitting with her legs crossed in a small, cozy room, she had been writing, probably something that had to do with strategies, I know how much she enjoyed those. Eventually, it became too much, it was impossible to ignore the sudden shifting of her own mood. Gently putting the material away, she stood up.

"Aranel?", a tall man turned to look at the woman that walked towards the window.

"Mithrandir, something is wrong", whispered the other, her keen eyes fixed on the mountain.

"Is it the Mountain?", she nodded and gasped as fire appeared.

The woman meant to go there, but alas, her friend did not allow it. Once, she had almost been taken by a dragon. He remembered well, how her father had despaired and how her sister had not let her go for a second until she was healed. Despite her urgency in going to the kingdom she had fled from and urge her father to send men to go help the people of Dale, he did not let her part from his home. She watched from the window as fire consumed the vegetation around the city, and wept along with the children and the people that burned there. Her own burnt back felt the pain it had suffered years prior.

"No!", Thorin finds Thror and grabs a hold of him, dragging him away.

Erebor was lost. For a dragon will guard his plunder as long as he lives.

"Run for your lives!", yelled the Prince, "help us!", the elves had come, and stared from the top of the cliff that overlooked the entrance to Erebor. They turned their backs to Thorin and his people's pain.

Thranduil would not risk the lives of his kin against the wrath of the dragon. No help came from the Elves that day. Nor any day since. What would have come to Thranduil, as he dispatched his troops and they returned home, was the anger of an Elven Princess, that lived so close to the dwarves...

'How could he!?', I know, she asked. You see, Frodo, she too held grudges against the dwarves, like any elf alive. But she was more against the bloodshed, and against the damaging of the cities that were surrounded by forests. Her father had shamed the acts of the other King, Thranduil had not had the blessing of King Donovan in his attitude. Neither did he receive the blessing of the only living child of the King, Princess Mäetharanel, the sister of Thranduil's late wife.

Robbed of their homeland, the dwarves of Erebor wandered the wilderness. The once mighty people brought low. The young dwarf prince took work where he could find it, labouring in the villages of men. But always, he remembered the mountain smoke beneath the moon, the trees like torches blazing bright, where he had seen dragon fire in the sky, and a city turn to ash. And he never forgave, and he never forgot.

Far away, in another corner of the world, dragons were only make-believe. A party trick conjured by Wizards on Midsummer's Eve. No more frightening than fairy dust. And that, my dear Frodo, is where I come in.

It was the beginning of an unlikely friendship that has lasted all my life. But it is not the start of my story. For me, it began...well, it began as you might expect. In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole full of worms and oozy smells. This was a hobbit hole. And that means good food, a warm hearth, and all the comforts of home.

Chapter Text

His son still sobbed in his arms when he reached their home. Orc blood and grim stained his clothes and he dared not look back towards the end of the company he had brought with him, reduced to at least the half of what they had been, where he knew she was to never wake again.

She who would never again wake him with her soft kisses or greet him with a smile that illuminated the whole Arda. She, whose hair shined more than the brightest star and whose eyes were greener than any leaf in their kingdom. She, the woman he had pledged his whole life to in front of all those people and Gods. She, whose voice always calmed him the most and whose hands brought him the best pleasure, comfort, and calmness. She, whom his son would have no memories of, she whose name would no longer be mentioned, she who would be the meaning of his son's tears, of his own too and she whom he needed so, so much. She, the mother of his child and the love of his life, his One. To never live, laugh, cry, moan, scream his name or embrace both him and their son... He could not take it.

Galion approached him and the only thing he did was push the sleeping and sobbing ellon* into the elf's arms as soon as he dismounted his elk. He proceeds to walk through the castle's high wood doors with the heavy weight of death upon his shoulders, his head, and his life. No one dared to even look at the grieving king. The man who held his son could do nothing else but try to soothe the stirring boy as the sound of breaking wood and his father's screams were heard everywhere.

The next day came too soon for Thranduil. His room was destroyed, and he had not slept through the night. Her bloody dress, once pure white much like her soul, could not leave his mind, her peaceful expression had been so natural in her that it was as if she would open her eyes at any moment, laugh in his face and tell him 'I am not leaving you for a while, my King!' haunted him. The orcs around her, taunting him with his screaming son, whose throat was already raw from crying and screaming for his mother, for naneth to open her eyes and fight the bad creatures, to use the skill the king knew she had, to unleash the deathly warrior that laid underneath those gentle features she possessed, in the background caged with blood running down his platinum blonde hairline... the scene just wouldn't stop repeating itself in front of his eyes.

He needed only look at Legolas to make three heads, if he could call what those disgusting creatures had on top of their neck that, roll to the ground. The ones around his wife went next, he had grabbed both of his swords and made arms, legs, anything he could cut and end life with cross them. His warriors took down most of them as he tried to get his scared son from out of the cage he had been put in, and once he successfully had the boy back in his embrace he would not stop whispering ada* and naneth* and he cried and screamed halfway through the way to Greenwood. He had not dared look at her more than those minutes when he was still trying to access the situation and his men were already slaying the creatures that kept on coming from everywhere, he had not, he could not, for his and his son's sake, he could not look at her cold and lifeless form... Vilissë would never come back to him.

Galion had moved fast, taking care of the young prince who could only cry silently and try to stop his bobbing head and calm his shaking body was easy, what worried him was the prince's father. Thranduil had left his room at least a hour later than it was usual and carried himself as if nothing had happened. He did not ask for the queen's body, he did not ask for his son, he did not say a word to anyone, he merely went with his morning as he normally did, he sat in his throne, read the scrolls that would be brought to him and aided to anything needed, alone. His eyes betrayed what his mouth would not say, and his posture was unnaturally tense.

Guards had reported to him as per his request of the king's spirits and the elf sighed, their king was said to merely stare ahead towards the door with a blank stare and to slightly jump at any high sound, and to scream at whoever did it afterwards. He would calmly speak to those who seek him but as soon as they left the throne room his shoulders would slump, and he would look sombre for some time before seeming to come back to himself and turn into the ever calm Elven King they were used to... Galion had a lot to do.

The first-time little Legolas finally gained courage to walk out of his room and seek his Ada it was a complete trauma for the boy, as if he needed more of it. Walking around the castle with a closed face and sad eyes, the young prince felt for the death of his mother so he searched for Ada, the only person who could understand him in such dark times. Going through the wooden corridor he reached the tall doors that would take him to the throne room and the high stairs, so he merely walked towards it, pushed, and walked inside. Thranduil was sitting in his high throne, one of his legs hanging in one of its arms, an elbow in his thigh and a closed fist supported his sharp chin as he read though a report. The little leaf's eyes lightened up upon seeing his only parent and he ran up the stairs.

Thranduil had been calmly reading through it, so imagine his shock when a hurricane of green and silver crashed against him, scaring him, and making him push whatever it was into the stairs. A scream alerted him to his small son almost falling and he only had time to stand up as one of his guards closed in on the boy who screamed even louder.

"LEAVE ME ALONE! ADA, ADA HELP ME!", Thranduil stopped and saw how the boy fought against the others grip, his little arms punched, and his legs kicked. To him, the dark clothes of the guard were not just clothes, the guard was no guard, and the supposedly safe embrace was not an embrace at all.

"Legolas..." the little boy sobbed and screamed and Thranduil's head hurt more than it had in a week, "LEGOLAS!", the ellon stiffened and faced his father's blank stare, his blue eyes red and scared, "Let go of him. Now", and the guard did just that, slowly and carefully. Legolas sobbed and ran into his father, ready to be brought into his dear Ada's warm arms, but he was merely pushed away.

"A-Ada?" , looking into the king's eyes made him feel cold.

"Legolas, straighten up, you are a prince. Do not make such a fuss in front of others and you certainly cannot walk OR RUN into a room unannounced like that", the prince's eyes widened at this. Did Ada not remember what had happened? How they had tortured and hurt naneth? How she wouldn't open her pretty eyes no matter how much Legolas asked her to? " Do be quiet and speak only when spoken to, were you not taught that?", hissed the elf.

"B-but, Ada, Nane-"

"DO NOT STUTTER AND DO NOT SPEAK OF THAT!", The little elf gasped and stepped away from his father. "Go away, now... Leave me", He did just that.

Running down the stairs more sobs fell from his lips and as he had been walking out of the room, he went against someone. Looking up his snotty nose and his almost non-existent eyebrows were shaking alongside his bottom lip, his eyes were big, terrified, and watery. Galion's eyes widened and he frowned.

"My prince, come. Let us get you something to eat..."

"Galion! Ada! Ada is not w-w-well! I must go fetch my b-blanket so he can slee-eep and and be better!", the little boy was shaking from head to toe. Galion groaned, picked him up and walked to the kitchens.

"Yes, little leaf... your ada is not well, but we shall take care of him, yes? Now, let us go fill that belly and put you to sleep..."

"Ada... Ada does not hold anymore feelings for me!" Galion sighed loudly and run his hand up and down the crying child's back.

"It is not that my prince... all will be well." he would make sure of it; the prince would weep no more.

"Naneth! I want Naneth, Galion!" his sobs could certainly be heard through the whole castle now.

"We all do, my dear", the boy pushed his head against his neck and resumed his restless crying.

Galion walked fast and as soon as they reached their destination, he gave the prince to a maid and she took care of him, he took his time while eating but was asleep within some minutes after finishing. As soon as the prince was tucked into bed, Galion went to take care of his other duties; he checked the wine barrels and made sure they all went back into the Laketown so they could be filled once more, he went to pick up the king's mail then checked if the maids had already taken care of everything for dinner and if the rooms were tidied up. He found everything done and ventured to the room he preferred most in the castle, the huge library. Upon making sure everything was well inside there and giving the caretaker some books he should translate, he ventured inside a room he had not been to in a while.

This had been one of the queen's favourite rooms as it had all her favourite art. Many of the paintings had a small Legolas and Thranduil, and many other had Greenwoods sights along with their castle portrayed from various angles at certain times of the year. There was one painting he would find their queen staring at longingly from time to time, one of the biggest ones they had there and the one she always ordered to be most carefully handled when in cleaning... 'It is one of my most precious possessions, dear Galion, and it shall be well treated', and then she would caress its surface and smile. As the butler walked towards it, he took the big cloth that covered the canvas, and his eyes met his late queen's. Her beautiful long blonde hair fell down her back to her hips, her eyes were smiling, and, in her face, a gentle grin made her shine... Her hand that was not holding his Lord Thranduil's, who wore clothes filled with silver and dark blue, was in little Legolas' head as he himself gave a big smile of his own, almost challenging his naneth to try and smile more than he did, his beautiful, gentle, and kind-hearted naneth that everyone longed to see just one more time... It had only been a week, and she was already very missed.

Next to the queen stood another figure; a woman with brown hair so long it reached midthigh and eyes so blue they could win against the deep sea. Her expression was as gentle as the queen's and her hand was in the little prince's own, her energy was a calm and pure one. Galion had interacted a lot with this woman, especially during the queen's pregnancy. She had been the first to know, had been there through it whenever her own duties did not call for her and had made sure she was there when the child had been brought into the world. She was the babe's most favourite person when it came to eat and playing (after his dear naneth, it would always be naneth first) and the castle's main visitor. This eleth*, whom Galion had a deep affection for, was the queen's sister, Mäetharanel*. And it only took some minutes of admiring her figure, to know she was the one who would solve all of this.

Marching out of the room, Galion went straight to his private quarters, wrote a letter that requested the presence of the princess and sent it. All without his king's knowing. Chuckling, he ran a hand through his long hair and gave a deep sigh; he really needed some cups of ale.

Chapter Text

Mäetharanel galloped through the forest towards the palace her father and her forefathers had habited in for centuries. The forest and her had been one ever since she remembered being alive. Perhaps her better liking towards Radagast the Brown was due to that, the man loved all animals and creatures of the Nature, much like her. She nodded towards the guards as her horse trotted inside the gates towards the castle's grounds and into the stables where she gave the young ellon the reins of her trusted friend. The princess watched as the boy fed her horse an apple and smiled, hit her side gently, kissed her muzzle and left.

The tall wooden rooms had been there throughout her whole life, and she could not imagine herself parting from them. The corridors were long and had many destinations, the rooms, the kitchens, the gardens, a weaponry, three libraries, the throne room... and many more places she had lived around but had not ventured inside, or did not care for.

The room she meant to go to had several windows in it's path but, mostly, it held decorations, paintings of her family. Looking outside through one of the windows, she saw children running around, girls and boys played together and laughed, together with their parents that watched much like her, either smiling or palying along with them. Peace radiated from the scenes, as it should always be. It was not shocking when she noticed more women than men accompanying the children, for most of their men had decided to pursue the road of battle. Together with her dear father, and her sometimes, they defended their kingdom.

Mäetharanel resumed her walk, gloomily; oh, what she wouldn't give to have a child... Marriage wasn't something she wanted, but having a child was something very different. She wished for the joy of a babe growing near her breast, of a grown child running around the big castle halls and of a strong adult elf that she could call hers and be proud of. Little Legolas was hers, but he hadn't been born from her. No matter how much she loved the boy, he was Thranduil's and Vilissë's, and it was not possible for her to be only his aunt. Her father had an ongoing war inside himself ever since her sister passed, and his absence made her stay and take care of his tall throne and of the kingdom itself. Long days would pass before their father decided to appear, usually covered in grim and black blood. Ever since his child passed, he had slayed orcs nearly every week, and Mäetharanel could not say against it, for it brought him comfort.

Her eyes looked up and met her sister's. Vilissë would forever stay there, in one of the many paintings they had of her. In there, the queen would not disappear. Looking at the canvas, she would still hear her words of worry, of love, of anguish and of pain. In there, her big sister would still watch her weep, and Mäetharanel would wrap her arms around herself and feel as if the beautiful blonde eleth was the one hugging her and whispering that she was so much stronger than what she believed. In there, Vi was still alive and she would remain like that, but the cruel reality would forever be that her dear sister was no more to hold or to love.

At last, she arrived at the doors of the Throne Room. The guards there bowed as they opened the tall doors and she smiled, walked inside and sat nearby the tall chair that belonged to her Ada. She would not sit there unless it was to receive the council in the kings absence. The throne was her father's, and his alone. It was known that, whenever the princess could not be found, she was in that room. The servants that found her, sometimes asleep, sometimes reading, would either put a warm blanket over her figure, or would remind her she had to eat. Those that had been with her for a long time would scold her, and tell her she could not alwyas do everything. When the door opened and she heard gentle steps, she did not need to turn around to recognize who it had been.

"Princess, it seems the Greenwood has reached out to you", Vendethiel, her personal maid and closest friend, walked until she was by her side. 

"Who wrote to me, my dear?", Mäetharanel had her head against the back of the chair, her eyes closed. The other's heart fluttered, for it meant her princess trusted her.

"Galion did, princess", and the urgency in her voice made her look up. Gently retrieving the letter from Vendethiel's hands, Mäetharanel began reading. As her eyes read more and more words, the maid watched as many emotions passed her eyes, "What is it, my lady?", the worry stayed, and the eleth feared.

"Galion worries for my sister-son, Vendethiel. It seems Thranduil is not taking my sister's parting so well and the boy suffers without a mother. I believed his father to be more conscious of his son's need, but I was mistaken, for he has not even spoken with the boy since they returned", she sighed, "My poor Legolas. He must think he lost both his parents", standing up, she ran an hand through her hair, an habit she had gained when nervous, "Galion says I should be able to take care of this matter, he said, and I'll read it aloud to you", the maid's eyes followed the lady as she approached the fireplace, "that he 'begs that my heart can take into consideration that a boy should not grow in such conditions and that little Legolas can and should be helped'. By the Valar Vilissë, you really should not have parted from us so soon", she sighed and put the letter to good use, inside the fire.

"What now? What is your decision?", Mäeth turned to look back at the woman, and noticed that even she felt tense. Her shoulders were stiff, and her hands were joined in front of her.

"If you have no more worries, please do arrange for my horse, will you? I must attend to my nephew. Also, it seems our king must have an earful, and who other than me to do it?", smilling towards the maid, the other returned it, bowed and left.

Mäetharanel returned to the table and retrieved a pen that she coated in ink. Letting it dance in the paper in front of her, she wrote to her father; she would not leave without an explanation. After the ink dried, she folded the letter and left it on top of the throne before walking outside. Passing by the guards she looked at one of them.

"Summon Elarian, please. He should come at once", the man bowed and quickly obeyed. She would go, but not before taking care of some matters.

Inside the stables, Vendethiel prepared the horse that belonged to her princess. The tall mare was currently being caressed by the maid, that stopped when she felt a presence nearby. Looking to the side, she jumped, startled, for the princess was closer than she expected. Chuckling, Mäetharanel resumed the other's caresses, and after Vendethiel stepped aside, she kissed the horse's snout. Arranging her riding gloves, the princess mounted and adjusted herself on top of the animal.

"Will you not write back to Galion, princess?", The other elleth shrugged in a very unlady like manner and rolled her eyes when her friend glared at her, "Going into another's kingdom unannounced isn't the best thing to do, I'm afraid."

"My dear Vendethiel, you should already be aware that angering Thranduil is one of my joys! He mgiht be King, but he is not immune to my antics. Besides, he deserves it. Is he not one of the reasons my boy has wept?", she took the reins, "Now, will you see me off?", then she let her calves hit the horse's side, gently, and she followed her owners' directions.

"Always, Mäeth", always faithful to her princess, she followed after her.

It didn't take them long to arrive at the gates of the kingdom. Informing the guards that they should warn her father of her leaving as soon as he came back, she waved back to Vendethiel and finally left with her horse. As soon as she was out of the gates, the princess began fastening their pace until they were fully galloping. The wind pratically bit her face and made her tied hair leave some strands out, but the nature surrounding her would always feel like home.

3 days later

Galion walked restlessly around the palace. Legolas had not tried to approach his father and would instead busy himself in his studies and training with his bow. When he was not training or studying, other people would keep him busy; so was the life of the heir of the great kingdom of Greenwood. He went into the underground wine cellar, groaned, and almost tore his hair off. It seemed his king was trying to, foolishly, drunken himself, and Galion was just done with everything.

"Éulio, come here", the guard approached, and he glared towards the young elf who stiffened, "The wine is to only be restocked when I give the order. ONLY I can send for more wine, understood?"

"Galion, the king will not-", he took a deep breath and the young one stiffened.

"I shall speak to the king as soon as I leave your sight", said the butler between gritted teeth, "Now, are we clear?", glaring at the other man, he waited for a nod, "Good. Have a nice evening", and he stormed out angrily muttering about retirement and how 'kings were stupid' and how 'everyone knew an elf couldn't get drunk easily'.

It was hot in that day, too hot for Thranduil's taste, and his wine was not coming anymore. As if hearing his pleas, Galion walked inside the room. Not minding the frown on the other's face, the King decided to voice his displeasure about the missing wine.

"Galion, it seems there is a problem in the cellar", The King raised an eyebrow towards the butlers' tired face.

"Is that so? I wonder why that is", His Grace opened his mouth to answer but Galion didn't let him, "Oh, it appears I am aware of why... you have drunk all the wine there", Thranduil blinked once, twice and stared at his friend's face, "And you're not getting any more of it until you put in that head of yours that this is not how things are handled and-"

"Do not speak of that", hissed the king with narrowed eyes.

"Thranduil, listen to me, I-"

"I SAID DON'T", the tall doors opened, and Thranduil stiffened and appeared surprised. Galion looked behind and sighed in relief when he saw who it was.

"Thank the Valar", whispered Galion "My Lady-"

"Mäetharanel", she walked up the stairs while undoing her braid, and let her hands run through her now free hair. She stopped in the plataform before the stairs that would lead to the throne and gave him a very sarcastic courtesy while holding the skirt she did not have, "What are you doing in here?", his composure fell slightly, it was much too soon for him to be reminded of- "Leave", the king glared and she raised an eyebrow.

"I beg your padron? Do you not understand the word 'hospitality'?", he stood up and began walking down the stairs, rage evident in his gaze, "Please, do not tire yourself, my King!", her voice held fake worry, "Oh, it seems it has escaped my mind that you have not done much lately", his face was right in front of hers and he was so out of control his glamour began disappearing and the scars of a long won battle began appearing, "It appears you no longer know the context of personal space as well", she gave three steps back and all signs of mockery left her face, "Let us speak of serious matters now. You must sort yourself, Thranduil", he snorted and turned his back to her, "I will not allow you to make my nephew feel as if he is to blame for anything, because he is not", hissing, the princess glared into his green eyes, "The boy just lost his mother, and you have the nerve to make him feel as if he also lost his father?", he stopped pacing in front of her and his shoulders began shaking, "No. You won't do that, not on my watch", he was livid, completely out of his mind when he looked back at her.

"Who do you think you are to tell me how to educate my son?", asked the taller elf through gritted teeth. He was trying to keep his composture, but she was not finished yet. 

"I just happen to be his aunt, the sister of your wife", he closed his eyes and his hands began shaking. By his side, Galion faced her with panic in his eyes, "Strike me if you will, but I will not tolerate this. Legolas is but a child, he should not be going through all this on his own, he deserves to have his father supporting him", that had done it, surely.

"You will leave through those doors before I do much more than strike you, Mäetharanel, AND DO NOT TEST ME!" the guards silently flinched; they had not heard their king yelling ever since... the event. "Have you gone deaf you foolish-", it was her turn to become very angry.

"I am the foolish one! I cannot believe you! Do you realize what you have done!?", her voice was progressively raising, "What you happen to be doing right now!? Have you absolutely no sense left!?", now she was the one advancing towards him until-

"AUNTIE!", the voice she loved the most in the world was heard. As the princess turned around, there wasn't a single bit of rage left in her gaze, only love for her little boy.

"Oh, my beautiful little leaf!", breathed out the princess as she went down to her knees and received her sister-son into her welcoming arms. Little Legolas had been so hungry for comfort that he instantly started shaking, "Come my love, let us take care of you", when the sniffs began, she held him with more strength and smelled his soft hair before hiding her teary eyes in it, "It is fine, Legolas, I'm here... I'm here now, alright?", he nodded against her neck and she stood up with the boy in her arms, "I will require your help, Galion, if you will", the butler turned towards his king, but he was going up the stairs, cursing lowly in elvish.

"At once, my lady", and with Legolas in her arms and Galion at her side, she left the throne room to go outside.

After Legolas had some time to calm down, she smiled at the boy and asked him to take care of her hair. He quickly began putting braids into it and humming a soft song she did not recognize. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the care her nephew was giving her. Having her hair caressed and feeling him so close to her was everything she had wanted in that moment. Her little leaf, always so considerate, knew how much she loved it when her hair was touched. And so, when he felt his auntie's tension, Legolas began styling her hair.

"I am forever in your debt for coming so quickly but perhaps your entrance could have been gentler, princess", Galion spoke and she looked at him.

"You know me, my friend. It enfuriates me that something such as this is not going as it should, and Thranduil is very lucky for the bond we share. Had it not existed, I assure you that King or not, he would have gotten much more than words", Legolas frowned.

"Auntie, Ada is just sad because of... something that happened. He will be alright soon enough and then he will apologize for being mean to you, I am most sure of it!", the boy nodded and Mäetharanel instantly felt proud upon seeing the boy's determined eyes.

"I must apologize to your father as well, sweet child, for I wasn't much pleasant towards him. Always be gentle, Legolas, even if they hurt you."

"But not if they hurt you, auntie", she burst out laughing and brought the giggling boy into her embrace to fill his face with kisses and Galion's heart softened when he heard his prince laugh. It had been long since the prince had even smiled, much less laughed.

"You are already doing it", Mäetharanel faced him with a beautiful smile and his breath got caught in his throat as she pressed her cheek into his prince's and gently stroked his hair.

"What am I doing, Galion?"

"You are saving us", whispered the butler and she frowned.

Chapter Text

King Thranduil woke up and began his morning routine as if it was just another normal day. Standing up, the King washed his face, brushed his hair and dressed himself. Galion walked inside the room and gave him his crown, that he set aside for later. The man gave him a quick summary of the day they had ahead, and then, they both exited his rooms, to go have breakfast.

The blonde had thought it all to be a nightmare, but when he entered the room where he would eat in, he groaned. Mäetharanel already sat in a tall chair, her plate still empty. Unlike the previous day, she was now dressed accordingly to her status. She wore a brown dress that had green details, and her hair was tied in a high bun, with two strands framing her face. Her posture, trained for many years, was impeccable. Her eyes turned to him and he groaned. He should have slept in.

"My King", she stood up and curtisied, respectfully, "I", she sat back down when he took his place at the end of the table, and began speaking, "I owe you an apology", his eyebrow raised and he contained a huff, "Coming into your home like that was not correct", his other eyebrow raised, "However, your behaviour was what made mine."

"You were doing so well", muttered the King, "I maintain my words: You have nothing to-", her defiant gaze met his.

"Understand that I am not here to attend to you; I could not care less how you have been performing your duties", the tea in front of her had stopped fuming two minutes ago, "Your relation with other kingdoms does not concern me. Your meetings are irrelevant", the bread in front of him was surely hardening, but the wine was surely fantastic, still, "I do not wish to consume you, I do not care about the fact that others have reached out to you about what has happened", finally, she grabbed the cup in front of her and took a sip, "But I cannot let you treat Legolas like this, Thranduil. I certainly would never impose myself, for I-"

"Galion messaged you", she blinked. Had he not heard anything she had been saying? 

"I don't see how that is relevant right now. But what makes you believe that?", breathing to calm herself seemed to work, for the King still possessed all his hair and his head. 

"He has done nothing but care for Legolas ever since we have returned from the battlefield", she sighed and let her head fall into her open palms and Thranduil heard her praying, "How dare he to call you without my approval!", glared Thranduil. It all made sense now. 

"You would not have allowed my presence in here", she understood that their friend had overstepped, but he had been desperate, "Would you tolerate to even hear my name? No, you wouldn't", she shook her head, "You would not wish for anything that could rewaken your memory", the fact he did not see pain in her eyes made him frown, "Galion did what anyone would have done. He asked for help, and waited for it to come. It came, and now he is helping with anything he can", the King laughed drily, "What are you laughing at?"

"And what will you do now?", she had been about to answer, but his anger was too much, "Can you do anything at all? No, no you can't", finally, her eyes showed what he had been wanting to see, "You believe yourself capable of repairing what has been done? Bring her back, then", she was finally defeated.

"You are well aware I am not capable of doing that, Thranduil", her eyes had tears inside them, but he did not find it in his heart to care, "No one can", her shoulders fell, and she looked down at her hands.

"We finally agree about something; no one can", he stood up, "Do not try to fix what has no repair, Mäetharanel", she looked up at him, and he saw it. She would die if it meant having his Queen back, "Do not try to be a hero, when you cannot be one. You cannot bring Vilissë back. You cannot help."

He left, after hurting her. She sat there, for minutes, just staring blankly towards the table, slumped against the chair. When her eyes looked up, she felt a gentle, comfortable hand on her shoulder. Galion had finally approached. A heavy silence surrounded them, until she sighed.

"I wish Vendethiel had traveled with me", blurted out the princess, and the butler smiled, gently.

"All in it's due time", she touched his hands and enterwined their fingers, seeking some peace, "You can, and will help us. I'm certain", smiling up at her dear friend, she stood up and they separated after hugging each other.

While Galion went to take care of his affairs, Mäetharanel searched for her little Prince. It reached her that Legolas was slowly returning to being the joyfull boy he had once been. 

And indeed, the little prince felt much better. It seemed everything was almost back to normal; even if Ada was still grumpy, and Galion had a lot to do like always, his auntie was the light of his life. Aunt Mäetharanel, with her beautiful laugh and her caring personality that was so much like naneth's, was the best person in the whole world! 

He has been running to his archery lesson, when Legolas came to an abrupt stop and looked up. His auntie had crossed her arms and was smiling down at him. He grinned back at her and she laughed.

"And where are you going?", asked Mäetharanel.

"To practice, auntie Mäe!", he waved his bow around.

"Is that so?", she chuckled, "Do you mind if auntie accompanies you?"

"No, not at all!", and they went to the fields.

Legolas' teacher looked at the boy, and had been about to reprimand him for being late, surely, but when Mäetharanel appeared from behind, the man quickly bowed deeply to her. Shaking her head, she told him that such treatment was not necessary. To Mäeth, she was only a princess. Formalities like those were reserved for Queens and Kings, something that was impossible for her to become. The man smiled, and began teaching her nephew.

Sitting against a tree, Mäeth grabbed some paper, a pen and ink. Watching as her little one began practicing, she admired how talented he was, but it was no surprise. His naneth, her sister, Queen Vilissë had been dreadful with a bow in hand.

Unlike Thranduil that had mastered the swords, she and her sister became a true menace when shooting arrows. Together, they had destroyed many threats when younger. They had fought together, in between small and large battles. One war and many battles after, they still danced around one another when in the middle of chaos, their father and Thranduil easily defended by them when they were standing far away.  

She began drawing her boy as he stood still, breathing and focusing before releasing the arrow. There had been a battle, much too ferocious for the Woodland Realm King to defeat on his own. Many fell in that day, many became scarred. 

The scene began replaying itself in her mind, the smell of smoke surrounded her, and the feeling of fire licking at her arms was way too much present. Thranduil had tried to fight the battle on his own, but he could not do much. Not with a sword. Those didn't do much when fighting dragons, after all.

some centuries ago

Running through the battlefield, she didn't allow herself to look down at the ground. Many elves had died, too many elves.  Mäetharanel breathed hard as she ran as fast as she could towards the front of the battle. They had been so large and so full of power that their fire had burned everything in their path, be it elves, houses, or vegetation, and she had enough. 

Trying to help others was what she had been supposed to do, but she could not just watch as her own kin fell and died, she could not stand it and she would not, so she ran and evaded their eyes as much as she could. Her blue eyes never left the sky, even when she was hiding.

When she finally reached the front, many were on the ground, some were already dead, burned to death or succumbed to the smoke in their lungs she could not tell. All she knew was that they had lost some great warriors. And then she saw it. A large, red serpent coming at full strength from somewhere she did not see, and she saw Thranduil, recently made King. 

He had left his too recent Queen to look after their kingdom and had marched with his troops and her sister to the north to defeat the beasts, with swords and a bow in hand. The arrow that had previously been set to be fired had already fled through the air and hit the dragon. In response to this, she had not been fast enough. As soon as it started filling it's lungs with fire, as soon as she saw it's skin lightening, she had ran to where the tall king stood, now also holding  his  sword. The Princess only had time to see Thranduil holding his arms in front of his face, to hear the scream coming from his throat and the loud laugh of Naltharion, the Flamebearer; it had taken revenge for it's fallen black scaled companion whom had been taken down by their many elves.

Mäetharanel quickly got to him and gasped upon seeing the damage on his face. He laid on his back, covering his completely burnt face and her hands shook as she had been about to caress it, but instead she made him stand up, put his arm over her shoulder and got out of the scene as soon as she could. The tent had not been that far, thank the Valar.

Galion had quickly tended to the king, who had his head in her lap, his hair being caressed by her shaking hands, all while Mäetharanel tried to soothe his pain while whispering magic to settle both his nerves and pain. She touched his forehead and quickly retreated her hand; he was burning up. Growling, she told Galion to tend to their friend and went outside the tent, armed with a bow and a much different arrow. 

In that day, Mäetharanel avenged her companions, and won her biggest battle until then. In that day, Mäetharanel knew she could do anything from then on: for she had killed one of the serpents who had terrorized the people in those lands. Screaming until her voice was raw, she stabbed the enormous dragon until all her frustrations were dead with it.

Going back inside where their wounded were, the first person she saw was the fallen king. Thranduil faced her with a side of his face completely bandaged, but before she could speak, Galion grasped her arm and brought her into a more intimate part of the tent.

"He will never see from his left eye again, Mäetharanel", he had smoke everywhere in his clothes and face. His hair was matted with blood and his hands were quite dirty, "The left side of his face is very burnt, and it is a wonder his hair did not completely catch on fire."

"Galion, is there anything you can do about that?", she cared not for the hair, but his face was something completely different. Thranduil wasn't only a handsome elf, he also had strong features that gave him even more strength when speaking. Sometimes the king did not even need to speak, for his expression said everything.

"I am afraid I cannot," Mäetharanel faced him and lowered her gaze in shame.

"Vilissë won't handle this well", Galion had been about to touch her arm to comfort her, he always tried to give her some strength whenever she wasn't well, but stopped, looked at her up and down and frowned, "What?"

"Mäeth, dear Valar," and he quickly began searching for any injuries, "You have so much blood on you, how-", she winced when he touched her shoulder, "How did I only see it now? Oh my... Come, quickly, come!", and he pushed her into a made-up bed that had been on the left side of Thranduil's, "Are you hurting? Where does it hurt? What are you feeling?"

"Well, it seems your constant questions are making me have a headache. Apart from that, my ribs hurt a bit, and it seems I have a cut in my head", she had coughed a bit, but now her voice was completely raspy.

"Where did all this blood come from? You have inhaled way too much smoke!", he quickly went to get whatever he needed for her, and she clearly heard him curse.

"What did you do?", came the king's voice, "What did you do Mäetharanel?", his voice was void, but anyone could see it in his good eye; he was furious.

"I did what any person would have done, I avenged my King and my fallen comrades", his eye searched for something in hers, "I killed the dragon that burned you. The other two got away. This blood is not mostly mine", She tried to stand up but gasped at the pain on her back.

"You stay down, Mäetharanel! Did you not hear what I just said!?", Galion was almost yelling.

"Keep it down, will you?", hissed the princess.

"I will if you do", she glared.

"Take care of Thranduil, I'll live", said the princess through gritted teeth as she finally managed to sit.

"So will he", and has he touched her neck she made her lip bleed so she wouldn't scream ,"What in...", his fingers trailed down her back, "You broke your spine- HOW DID YOU BREAK YOUR SPINE!?", He quickly took her armour off and lifted her shirt, then she was on her stomach faster than ever, "Mäetharanel, you will be the death of me!", and he began working on her back.

"I...", she screamed against the mattress, before turning her head to the side, "Took a dragon on my own, do you believe it to be an easy task?", the princess's voice became drowsy as the pain got more and more obvious.

"I believed you to be smarter, that's what I believed! I surely hope your sister really will not like this now, I sincerely do", she shivered, but it was not due to the strength Galion applied on her left arm. Vilissë would kill her, surely, "Mäetharanel , you had soliders around you, you should have-"

"I had men mourning", she took a deep breath when another pair of cold hands touched her neck, "And I had men who had accepted their fate. I took it upon myself to let them see that as long as I exist, they will have hope. They will stand tall as they should", Galion merely crushed the leaves and applied them all the way down to her lombar region. He began chanting and she sighed, finally succumbing to fatigue and pain.

___________

Then, when she opened her eyes, the battlefield was long gone. She had woken up in Greenwood, with her sister holding her hand while sleeping on her knees. Looking around, Mäetharanel had recognized the room she was in as the King's quarters and smiled gently at her sister who was sleeping on the ground, in her own room. Thranduil had visited her later in that day, face completely intact, as it was today.

Little Legolas squealing was what brought her back to the present, he had been playing with a squirrel and hurt his hand. Mäetharanel looked down at what she had painted and smiled sadly. Legolas had become his mother, asleep while holding her hand. Vilissë's face traits had been so well done by her hand, uncousciously, that it almost seemed like she had been in front of her. She looked up when her nephew approached.

Chuckling, the Princess rubbed his hand when he came to show it, and told him to finish practicing so they could go back inside his home. The boy, enthusiastic to see his aunt in action, insisted that she should shoot an arrow. 

Mäetharanel let him have his show and prepared the bow after telling her boy she was awful by then, for it had been long since she held a bow. Galion, that had appeared not long ago, shook his head and put his hands behind his back.

"I wish I were as awful as you, my Princess", and she rolled her eyes at him, took a deep breath and released the arrow. When it hit the center of the target, she arranged her posture and smiled at little Legolas' happy gasp.

"Good job, auntie!", Mäetharanel laughed and returned the long bow to its place.

"Keep on training, Legolas", the boy nodded and went back to his teacher, who smiled at the little leaf's enthusiasm, "Galion, I have been meaning to ask what was done of my sister's body", the butler looked at the young prince and proudly noted his stance was almost perfect.

"Hidden", Mäetharanel was looking at him, but he would not meet her gaze, "The king could not handle the thought of something happening to her, so he ordered her corpse to be hidden from curious eyes. There is, however, a magnificent grave to honour our Queen."

She had wanted to see her big sister for one last time, to properly mourn her and kiss her hands as she had done so many times. Galion gently touched the top of her head and she looked down and swallowed the lump in her throat. 

Legolas', as if sensing his aunt's distress, threw himself at her and just like that, a smile appeared on her face. Her little one, always so sensitive to what others were feeling, had a quick reaction to saddness.

"Thank you, Legolas", he let her go and grinned.

"Auntie, I'm hungry", Mäetharanel laughed loudly and picked him up.

"Shall we give our prince some food, dear Galion?", the elf nodded and lead them inside the castle. Mäetharanel gently leaned her cheek against her blondie's head as he let it fall against her shoulder, "I will protect you and fight for you Legolas, always", the little prince smiled and tightened his hold on her neck. He knew she would.

Once inside the kitchens, Mäeth ordered for cake to be given to the little Prince, despite the cook's protests. After the second one, and despite knowing it had been too much for him, she let him eat a third one. 

He rarely had any sweets, and he deserved them! Right when her boy was about to bite into the sugary delight, his father walked inside the kitchen.

"Will you not do one thing correctly?", Thranduil asked and sighed, "For Valar's sake... Legolas, that is enough", the boy stopped mid bite, surprised that his ada had spoken so calmly with him and gave the cake to the cook.

"I am doing things right", she nodded and looked at him up and down, "But now that you speak of doing things correctly, my King, have you properly looked at a mirror at all today?", he glared, "Those glares and frowns of yours are making some terrible lines appear in your face", the little blonde prince giggled and hide his face in Galion's shoulder.

"Have you as well? That hair has seen better days", the butler snorted, and now she was the one glaring and he was the one smirking, "And those lines in your eyebrows certainly will not disappear either", a growl left her throat and he sighed, "My, how much have you crumbled? You sound like an animal."

"Quiet you-", hissed the Princess, about to give him a piece of her mind.

"My Lady", warned Galion and she stiffened. He was King, she did have to watch her tongue.

"Whatever, you may say what you will, nothing you say will make me crumble to your level", huffed the Princess.

"Thank the Valar, you'd do a very poor Queen", mocked Thranduil.

"What did you just say?", Mäetharanel stood up and had been about to walk to the king when an elf barged inside the kitchens.

"My King, you are being called to the meeting room", judging by his tense posture and the fact he had just about bursted the door open, it meant there was trouble.

"I will be there in no time", the other nodded and walked out.

"Ada?", Thranduil looked at his son and nodded. The boy smiled, shy, and seemed hopeful, "Will you help me with sword practice later?"

"I will", Mäetharanel looked at him, surprised, but the king kept on looking at his young heir.

"Thank you so much, Ada!", he grinned at his father and ran out towards the gardens, no doubt.

"He won't even give me time to tell him to not run", but there was a gentle smile on her face.

"My King, shall we go?", Galion waited for the king to walk out the door, but as they were leaving he stopped, and so did the butler.

"Have you any news of your kingdom, Mäetharanel?", Mäeth nodded. A letter had arrived, her father had answered the one she left for him. He was back from his hunt and wished for her fast arrival.

"My father is back and well", he nodded.

"Good", and walked out, Galion hot on his trail and soon, she walked out too.

For now, the future seemed bright for them. Vilissë had left a deep wound, one that would not be easy to heal, if it ever would, but she would never leave their hearts. Legolas, as small as he was, would not forget his mother, and would certainly miss her, but he would not be alone. 

He could always count on auntie for anything.

Chapter Text

King Donovan was a tall elf. Being king certainly made him appear even taller, not only because of his crown, but also because of the weight the title carried. Unlike the rest of his kin, Donovan had a sharp sense of humour and a strict personality, even if they were easily forgotten as soon as he smiled. His wife, his One, his other half, had adored him for it, and his daughters had become so sweet and caring that the deceased Queen swore it was because he had smiled so much more during her pregnancy. When Vilissë was born, his smile was brighter than the sun itself, his world got all more colourful, and he decided that finally, just after his firstborn was brought to his arms, he knew what true love was. Then came Mäetharanel, a grumpy little babe that would make everyone laugh with her little frowns and heavy eyebrows. Their children gave them unlimited happiness. His memories were filled with them, for he remembered everything to the smallest detail, their first words, their first steps and their first friends, the first time they had gone to a ball. Their moments, be it good or bad, would accompany him until the rest of his days.

It had been him that gave Vilissë away to Thranduil, but only after making sure his eldest child was well given. His girl had married for love, not only for political interests, and his little one would do the same. Mäetharanel, always her sister's companion, became sad that her biggest friend, love, and practically the air she breathed, was gone from their home. The fact that she also hadn't warmed up to the prince was an obvious bother, but still, he had taken her big sister, she could hold anything against him, at least in her mind. Years passed and little Legolas was born, and the young princess became ecstatic! Most of her time was passed with the babe, and whenever she wasn't tending to him, she would be with his mother, smothering her in attention until Legolas called for her. Her biggest enjoyment was to annoy Thranduil, and the little leaf laughed when he'd be near his father and his aunt would pick him up and take him away, for the bad elven king would probably bore him senseless. The Woodland Realm was in peace, and laughs had consumed its castle. Until that day.

Orcs took his first child, in front of her own, still so young, still in much need of his mother. His only living child and Donovan himself had no immediate reaction when the news came. Much like when his queen died in battle, no tears had been shed by him, such was the shock he felt. The king had not yelled, the king had not wept, he did nothing. His daughter, his poor girl that had she lost a big part of herself, when she finally understood what the guard had said, passed out.

"Your majesty, I regret coming to you with such grave news", and his girl turned to look at the sad elf, "but you must be informed. Queen Vilissë of the Woodland Realm has been slain", and their world fell apart.

He barely had time to catch his daughter. Had it not been years of quick reflexes, his little girl would have fallen to the ground. Holding her tight against himself, he let the guard that always accompanied her take her to her room. Later, when conscious, the princess became desolated and all she could do was weep and yell for her lost sister. She had regretted the lost moments, felt deeply for the happy times and curse the future they had to endure, for it would not have Vilissë in it. When she stopped and began thinking, Legolas came into her mind and she became even more angry, her screams were painful to hear. She knew what a life without a mother felt like, and her nephew, still so small, would have to endure the same. But not for long, not while she was close to him. Unlike her father that had taken refuge in slaying the foul creatures that had taken his child from him, Mäeth occupied her mind with her nephew and in accomplishing her duties as princess. Until that letter came, with heavy grief, she had decided to stay way from the kingdom her sister was a part of, but as soon as Legolas came into the scene, she left.

It was not surprising when he came back home and did not find his appointed regent there, but another in her place. Donovan himself would not spend much time at the palace, not ever since his eldest had passed away. The king sat in his throne and nodded towards the man that had taken his daughter's responsibilities, and after the other had left, he became alone inside the throne room. Everyone took the young queen's passing terribly, but his remaining child's attitude worried him, particularly now that she had disappeared. Turning the closed letter around in his hands, he read the word Ada and knew Mäetharanel had an explanation, after all.

Passing his eyes through the letters, Donovan smiled with sadness. Only a week after such devastating news, but his daughter had already gone to help his dear grandson. It had been traumatic for her, the father could not remember when it had been the last time he had to put her to sleep, but as soon as news reached her of their boy needing her, she was gone. Despite all the tears he had to wipe, despite having to use magic, so the sobs would finally tire her enough so she would sleep, Legolas had not left her mind, and he knew it. The ellon would need a woman in his life apart from the servants, and there she was, his auntie. Thinking of their boy made him think about in son by law. His queen's death certainly had weighed in his mind, but it was no reason to not treat his child well. He had taken Thranduil absorbing himself in his king duties, and consequently neglecting the boy, as something bad, and acknowledged his daughter leaving so soon as for the best.

"My King, welcome", he became rigid as Vendethiel's voice reached his ears.

"Vendethiel", the woman smiled as he acknowledged her presence, "How long have you stood there?"

"It concerns me that you did not hear my come in", she bowed down and walked so she'd be closer to him, "What is the matter?"

"When did princess Mäetharanel leave?"

"Just yesterday, majesty", he hummed and began playing around with the paper in his hands, "A message from the Greenwood was delivered to us. Galion wrote it", the butler Thranduil had taken to his service was certainly useful, "Its contents made the princess leave as soon as she came back from performing her duties", the king began rubbing his temples. Knowing his child, she hadn't taken anything with her, she simply left, "My king, I assure you she will arrive safely. I was told that as soon as she was within king Thranduil's castle, she would send word."

"Very well", he nodded and arranged his posture, "What were the contents of the letter my daughter received?", the woman looked down and he frowned, "Speak, Vendethiel."

"It seems our little prince is not well", she sighed, heavily, "king Thranduil has also seen better days, I'm afraid."

"As expected", he leaned back against his tall throne, "Vendethiel, do grab some tea for me, will you?"

"At once, your majesty", and after bowing down, she left.

Tiredness began consuming the king. Donovan felt sad and empty, and no matter how many times he would go out, he would never return whole again. Being a father was both the biggest blessing the Valar had given him, and the biggest curse, for he suffered so much more for his children than with anything else... His hands began shaking as he tried to replay his daughter's last moments on Middle Earth. How much she had suffered, both from her injuries and from being certain her child would watch her die, despite also seeing how strong his mother was. He imagined his grandson, still so small, had wept and screamed until his father came to him and finally shielded his eyes from his mother's corpse. The day his child's death was reported to him, he vowed to kill as many orcs as he could. For his daughters, for his grandson. Vendethiel setting the cup of tea next to him was what brought him back, and he glanced at her. Noticing his void eyes, and his stance slouched, the elf maiden frowned.

"My king, please", he looked down, and appeared much older than he was, "do not let it consume you. I might not understand the pain you suffer, but none of it was your fault, your highness", he shook his head, "You could do nothing to vaoid this."

"It makes me feel powerless, Vendethiel", he took the cup in his hands, warming them, "I lost my daughter. My eldest child. Mäetharanel grieves and will certainly become imprudent, my grandson is permanently scarred...", after he took a sip of tea, he looked at the cup, "My daughter knows what she is doing, despite everything. She is grown, I know, but I fear her pain might take control of her mind. She is different from Vilissë, you see. She has always had her heart near her mouth, her bow too close to her hands."

"Our princess will take good care of little Legolas, my king. She might not fix the situation, but she will help as much as she can", she smiled gently, "Your grandson lives for princess Mäetharanel, after all", looking back at the woman, he recognized the feelings in her eyes, feeling they had hidden, but he knew very well about them.

When Vendethiel left, his meetingd began. Afterwards, he had received ambassadors, taken care of paperwork and had received reports. He missed his daughter by his side, analysing everything carefully and giving orders whenever he was atending to other matters, he missed how she would lean against him and coment something in whispers so the lords and guards wouldn't hear. They had a certain companionship, one only a father and daughter could have. Ever since his oldest child had left, he only had Mäeth left, and he cherished all their moments together, he did not know how to live without her nearby. With his wife and Vilissë gone, Legolas and Mäetharanel were all he had left. Despite his daughter not being the boys mother, she would relieve some of his worries and would help him with anything the little elf needed.

Shadows lurked around the Middle Earth, and it worried him too. Donovan feared not only for his kin, but for every race. Orcs were beginning to get more and more active on their lands, almost as if waiting for something. Perhaps it was time he contacted Lady Galadriel.

Chapter Text

Hundreds of years had passed since Mäetharanel started living in the Greenwood. Her little Legolas had grown, alarmingly fast. Even if she was not his mother, and had never tried to be, she could not help but feel a huge responsability when it came to the boy, her boy. Doriath wa sno longer her home, but her second refuge. Her father, her dearest father, her biggest love and her biggest worry, had become more and more paranoid. Over what? The princess did not know.

Thranduil, who still suffered, worked more and more. His kingdom prospered, and apart from the constant work that was taking care of it, from time to time, there'd be a celebration or a small party, but only if to celebrate. Much like Donovan, King Thranduil had tried to absorve himself in soemthing so the pain would not overwhelm him, but unlike his father by law, who decided to hunt more and more often, he would stay in the comfort of his home.

The kingdom that her sister once rulled over was beautiful, it had always been. The comfort it brought would always fill her heart and her soul, however something made her fear, a whisper in the back of her mind. The times were different, something was not well. Greenwood, despite beautiful, felt different. It was as if the kingdom mourned for something, something that was alarmingly close, but the elf could not figure out. Her heart was easily damaged, and it bled for the forest.

"Something is going on, but what?", whispered Mäetharanel while looking outside the gates and into the forest, "I should consult Radagast, or not", the guards that were by her side faced each other, "have I gone insane? By the Valar, am I fearing for something I have not seen?", whispered the princess while holding a squirrel that had cuddled themselves on her arms. The guards shrugged and faced forward.

But insanity was not consuming her. A bigger evil lurked in the shadows, one the Middle Earth had thought was no more, scheming and preparing for something that was way too close.

"My, look at how much work got done", glancing at the tall wooden wall, all clean and beautiful, the princess smiled and nodded, "I left only for a few hours", they looked almost new.

"Without their biggest nuisance they did miracles, do you see?", Thranduil was also admiring the elves work, and decided to provoke her.

"Thranduil, how come I just came back from watching over dear Greenwood and you dare treat me poorly?", her arms crossed in front of her chest, and she shook her head, "I would like to think it will be a good day, for everything was alright. But now I am sure of it, for you are trying to get to me", and she laughed and turned her back to walk away from him, missing the king's small smile.

She knew the corridors of the wooden palace like the back of her hand. She could walk through them with her eyes closed, and she'd go to the right place. Walking up some stairs, she walked inside a room, the room her sister had stored everything that was dear to her. Everything Thranduil could not stand, for it hurt a lot. She took the large cover from a tall frame and faced her sisters joyful smile, holding little Legolas in her arms while she, Mäetharanel, faced them laughing.

"Vi", a smile appeared on her face, not even near as big as the one she had on the frame, but her sister could only make her smile, "I hope you are watching over us, sister dearest", the more she looked, the more it hurt.

Vilissë was missed everyday, but Mäetharanel understood the instinct that drove her to death. Her son was being threatened and had been in danger, so she acted to protect their little boy, who was not so little anymore. She would see her, from time to time, with her majestic figure, her well combed long blonde hair and her beautiful green eyes, walking through the castle and hypnotizing everyone, both with her figure and her laugh. Her voice, her caring eyes, her warm embrace... she was truly a queen, THE queen, in her sisters mind. Because the tears had been about to leave her blue eyes, Mäeth gently covered the frame. Looking up, she closed her eyes and smelled the air while cleaning the few tears that had escaped while hearing her sister telling her that she should not cry, for princesses didn't weep. She would certainly be weeping too, as she could never see another cry without tears falling from her eyes too. Her answer would be that queens should not even think about weeping, not once and they'd laugh and hug one another. Then, they'd leave, together, hand in hand and happy.

But in that day, Mäetharanel left alone.

Legolas walked through the training grounds while admiring their warriors training in perfect sync. Being elves helped them perfect anything they did, but they still needed to work hard, of course. He meant to observe them, but it was not the only thing that made him walk around. His aunt made him lose sleep, for she was much too quiet, much too thoughtful, and that was not Mäetharanel. His aunt would always speak, it would become exhausting sometimes, and always looked for something to do and if everything was alright around them. She's keep him company and she'd perform her duties.

"Legolas", he stiffened.

"Aunt Mäetharanel!", she laughed at his face and he frowned.

"I scared you, my apologies!", caressing his face she blinked and it was her turn to frown, "have you been eating, Legolas?", he sighed, but smiled. There she was, "What are you smilling at? Should I go and speak with Galion?"

"Galion is not my babysitter, aunt", but the Valar, had he summoned her?

"Oh, but he was", a michievious look appeared on her features, "and what a good job he did!"

"He was, indeed", she gasped, "he is not anymore."

"Mind your attitude young man, what is this? Have you grown so much you'd have an attitude towards me? Your aunt who loves and protects you?", she crossed her arms and began tapping her foot while giving him a glare.

"Dear Valar... No, I do not have an attitude towards- hey!", she had flicked his nose, "that was completely unnecessary!", said the prince while holding his abused nose. His aunt laughed and hugged him, gently.

"Look at you, speaking like a grown up! Oh, your father and your grandfather have made you grow too fast", she smiled at him and caressed his hair, "my dear boy."

"Father has nothing to do with this, it's called growing up", mumbled the 'boy'.

"Both your father and your grandfather pressure you too much", they ended up sitting on a bench where they could see the whole training ground, "even if you are the only heir, it is not necessary."

"I go through what you and naneth went, or is it not?", Mäetharanel looked at him.

"Yes, but they are much too... insistent, I do not know how to say it better, honestly. They have always had that ability towards me!", she slumped back against the seat.

"Auntie, my mother... what would she do now?"

"Vilissë? She would be cuddling you, saying you did not have to listen to whatever those two told you", upon the face Legolas had made, she laughed, "here I am, making fun of your poor mother... in reality, she would not be as harsh as them, however she would certainly make sure you, her only son, were ready for your duty. Your mother did not play around when it came to our kingdoms, even in Doriath, for when she left to rule here she was still on top of eveything! So, she would be strict, but understanding. She also had understanding people surrounding her, after all."

"I see", looking down, the prince glanced at his hands. Soon he would go into the world more than he already went. He had already killed, but never a man or one of their own. Not even a dwarf. His rage was always taken down on those orcs, the one's who had taken his mother.

While the young prince thought, Mäetharanel doubted. Not about him, never about her boy, but about herself, for questions grew inside her mind, many questions, and she did no like it. She needed answers, oh how badly she earned for them! And she would have them.

"It is decided then", mumbled the princess, "Legolas, I love you", and then she brought the young prince into her arms, and hugged him tighter than usual.

"I love you too", he returned the hug, but it felt different. The princess stood up, "aunt Mäetharanel, what is the matter?"

"Nothing, my love. I just need to set my thoughts straight", a smile that did not comfort him at all had taken her lips.

"You have been quiet, apparently always thinking... It is not like you", she smiled.

"Now now, are you saying I usually don't think?", she crossed her arms.

"No, not at all", he quickly shook his head and she laughed.

"Legolas, rest assured, all is well", leaning down, she smelled his hair and kissed his forehead, "all is well. In it's due time, everything shall pass, and if not, my dear leaf, we will learn to live with it", then, she left. Looking at his aunt's back, Legolas felt as if he was missing something. And soon, he'd learn that he'd be missing her, for she had truly gone away.

As soon as she walked inside her room in the great palace, she looked around and memorized everything. Looking at the wardrobe, she took her cape out and opened the drawers to gather her weapons. Then, she grabbed some bread the servants had left in a tray, some water, and prepared to leave. A knock on the door made her look towards the door and leave her crouched position.

"Enter", commanded the princess.

"Princess Mäetharanel", the guard opened the door and bowed down, "his highness is calling for you."

"Of course he would be calling for me now", sighing, she ran an hand through her hair, "I will be there at once, thank you."

Thranduil should lose the habit of interrupting her before she did something. Even unknowingly, the man would do it. Grabbing her cape, she put it around her shoulders and walked out.

The long corridors made her doubt her choice, but only for a small time. She had to leave, for her mental health and for the answers she needed. Ignoring her heart that screamed for her to stay, near her boy, near her loved ones, she took a deep breath and walked inside the meeting room.

"My King", she bowed down after looking into Thranduil's blue eyes and let her eyes go around the room, facing the generals one by one, "I did not know you had called for a meeting, my apologies."

"Princess Maethäranel, welcome. You were called here for a detailed report on your most recent patrol through the kingdom", straight to the point, eh? 

"It has gone as all of them go, your highness. Spiders were all around, their nests spread throught the forest and Greenwood was somber", then, as soon as she went quiet, the generals began whispering among themselves. Thranduil closed his eyes and rubbed them. An ache began growing within her, she knew that their hurried plans meant they had not expected the situation to have grown so much in such little time, "my forest is dying", whispered the princess while looking down.

"Are there any suggestions that you might wish to give?", asked the king, a thoughtful look on his face.

"I suggest we attack the problem at it's source", to end them at their core would be wiser than anything she could suggest.

"No", deadpanned the king.

"Why not? Should we not try and end this at the fastest pace possible?", confronted Mäetharanel, her eyes angry, but her voice was calm.

"I will not risk elven blood on those cursed lands. Too much has already been lost there", Vilissë, he meant they had lost Vilissë there. Dol Goldur had been what took her, and the spiders came from there.

"Then, my report is over, my king", it pained her then and it would pain her forever, but Vilissë was gone. Their forest and their kingdoms did not need to be gone as well.

"Leave", commanded the king, obviously angry. She obeyed.

When Mäetharanel left through the back of the palace, near the kitchens, she could not say goodbye to anyone. Not to Galion, not to Thranduil, not to her Legolas, she simply left in the quiet hours of the night. A letter was not sent to Doriath, for if they needed her, they knew how to find her. She left much to say, much more than anyone knew, but with her departure she would have answers, and answers was what she wanted. Despite her selfishness, what hurt her the most was being alone. Mäetharanel loathed being on her own more than anything, mostly because her thoughts would take her mind and speak too loudly. Now, here she was, alone and about to lose the battle she had won long ago, an inner battle that had made her body take over her mind, and not the opposite. The farther she got inside the forest, the more she looked around, madeher believe she was truly insane. She had left for answers she was not even sure she would get!

The forest, now gloom and dark, was nothing like the flourishing and green place she remembered with deep care. The tall trees that once brought her comfort only made her nauseous, the long paths shehad gon through without concerns made her be alert, and the more she walked into it's depth, the less animals she saw. Her Greenwood was no more. Being a wood elf was the same as water for a plant: if you were in the forest, you'd be bright and happy, perhaps even grow. But when the forest became something you had to cautious with? Mäetharanel wished she had never known. Her place used to give her peace, as it was filled with good memories, such as the first time Thranduil and Vilissë began talking, or when Vilissë told her she and the prince would elope, while watching a bow contest. The happiest day of her life had happened while in the forest, for it was in that day that Mäetharanel learned her sister was with child. Legolas had taken his first steps in the forest, while his parents and grandfather discussed about matters between the Greenwood and Doriath, and Mäeth saw him going after a butterfly. They had been sitting, but the princess quickly stood up and brought her boy into her arms, laughing loudly and happy, until his mother joined and took her child into her arms and was hugged by the boys father too. The saddest day of her life had also happened in the forest, for her sister was killed in it. Her father was constanly surrounded by trees, as were Legolas and Thranduil. The forest and her were one, not only for the memories, but mostly for if it was bad, then so was she.

"Oh, Greenwood, my wonderful Greenwood...", whispered the princess, "what have these pests turned you into?", the pain in her voice had all her attention, so much that she didn't hear the steps that were close to her.

"They have turned it into a lamenting place, indeed", came a deep yet friendly voice.

"Mithrandir", turning towards the wizard, she answered right away to his greeting while pressing her hand to her chest and directing it towards the male, "my dear friend, what brings you here?"

"I somehow felt like I needed to catch something, but now I know I only needed to meet you", while she looked down, he touched her shoulder, "princess, what is it that bothers you so deeply? I am well aware the forest does have a big part upon it, however, I also know it is not only that", and Mäeth spoke of everything. 

How ever since her sisters death no happiness lasted long, and war never ended, both with herself and the world. She shared her concerns about her dear father, her beloved nephew and how Thranduil did not seem to find that engaging their biggest problem at it's core would solve everything. But the deepest part of their conversation, the biggest turn of her life (which yet again happened in the forest) had been when she told her major concern: Mäetharanel did not know what to do with herself or with anything else around her.

Gandalf heard every word with care and immediatly understood what hailed the princess. She had no control over what happened around her, and she did not know how to gain it. Her mother had faced the same problem once, the late queen always seemed to have a certain need when it came to control, unlike her husband and her first child, whose capability to adapt to the situation and easily go around it or take care of it became almost unnerving. The wizard was old, much older than most people that inhabited the Middle Earth, and had been around it for a long time, and while he had his mission and it brought surprises with it, nothing would amaze him more than fate. There she was, right in front of him, a symbol of strength for so many, yet so weak, all because of herself.

"It is truly a wonder, Maethäranel, how through your life I have accompanied you", the princess looked at him, "What surprises me the most in this particular moment, is that you truly do not seem to get the answers that are right in front of you, however, I will not give them to you", it had been his turn to smile as the princess frowned, "The journey of your life has just begun, my dear. Accompany me", and she did.  Mithrandir lead them to a place she knew well, his home. It was nothing majestic, much like the other wizards who preferred to be discreet, Gandalf the Grey had a small cozy home with two bedrooms, a bathroom, a fully operational kitchen and a living room. She accompanied him into said living space and sat on the loveseat the wizard gestured towards, "now, I believe you know about a certain mountain, and who is guarding it..."

"The Lonely Mountain does not concern my interests, Mithrandir. Leave it at Thror's will, they can all kill themselves for the gold, see if I care", grumbled the elf while playing with a leaf.

"Now now, you don't mean that", and she chuckled.

"Oh, but I do! My dear Mithrandir, if only they were not such greedy cratures", she shook her head and began remembering the tales her father had spoken of, "I have observed them closely, as you well know. Doriath is close to Thror's kingdom, and you know our stories align. They killed my great-great-grandfather, Thingol, for only a necklace, fought against my great-grandfather, Dior, in the battle of Sarn Athrad, and they refused my grandfather, Eluréd, who came back and decided to ignore all of these occurrences. For Eluréd, they did not care, or need I remind you how my grandfather tried to accomodate a bargain with the dwarves and what their outcome was?"

"No, you need not", it would seem Mäetharanel did not have short memory.

Acknowledging their craftmanship, king Eluréd decided to ignore what happened to his own grandfather and had wanted for the dwarves to make all of the crown's personal jewels.  However, the dwarven greed had not taken long to be the end of their contract. A single crown was everything that lasted from it, a beautiful and detailed crowned with emeralds, crystals and Lasgalen stones that had sat upon her grandmother's head. 

"I thought as much", nodded the princess.

"All I am trying to say is that perhaps if an union was made, both sides would come victorious against a common problem", sighing, she leaned back against the couch.

"I need answers, Mithrandir. Not more questions", and Gandalf hummed.

"You may stay here all the time you wish and need, both you and your stubborness are welcome", a snort was heard from the elleth and Mithrandir saw some tention leave her shoulders, "however, you must answer to this one wish of mine."

"Of course you would ask for something", the wizard smiled, but it did not reach his eyes.

"Should there be a time when I need your help, you shall accompany me throught the process without denial."

"I thought you would ask for something more difficult, but I will certainly attend to your conditions", nodded the princess.

While they conversation lasted for much longer, Mäetharanel felt herself calming down, gradually. It had happened sometimes more, whenever Mithrandir would catch her at home, for he would travel and she would slay the menaces that attacked her forest or visit Rivendell. Being neraby Doriath and the Greenwood had to be good enough for her, but she shadows she so despised had to decipated, oh no; they were worse. Under the wizards sharp attention, she had began detiorating slowly, but not for long.

All was well with them, at least for 1500 years...

Chapter Text

When, in one particularly cold day, Mithrandir arrived to his home and spoke to her of the attack the Lonely Mountain had suffered, Mäetharanel stared at him in shock. It was known that dragons fancied gold, but for Smaug to attack so suddenly and to even drive them away from their home was something she could not understand. Unless there was something else that drove him to it... Thror had been assassinated by Azog, the Defiler, his son Thrain was lost, and the only ones that remained were Thorin, Thrain's older son, and Frerin, the heirs younger brother. Another information would cloud her mind some years later, when Thorin, now Thorin Oakenshield due to the battle of Azanulbizar, had taken Ered Luin as his home. Massaging her bulging temples, Mäetharanel groaned at the pain inside her head. Her father had much to concern himself with, why did he choose the Blue Mountains? She hoped their new neighbours would not be as bothersome as she feared. Alwaya a box filled with surprises, only two years later, Mithrandir had told her a third part concerning the dwarves, one she had just heard.

"You will meet with Oakenshield in Bree?", asked the princess, without believing what the wizard had just said.

"Indeed", nodded the man, while smoking from his pipe.

"To start a quest to retake the Lonely Mountain from a dragon?", she could not believe it, it was way too insane for it to be true.

"That is correct", he nodded once more and she blinked.

"And let me see if I got this right", she cleared her throat, "you are asking me to accompany you in this... insane quest, to meet Oakenshield in Bree and follow him to Ered Luin so I can be of assistance and help prepare the quest? Is that it, Mithrandir?", unbelievable, thought the princess. Should she cry or laugh?

"Exactly", he smiled after nodding once again.

"Mithrandir, have you gone completely insane?", with her eyebrows forrowed and her teeth gritted, the elf truly looked like a bear, "how have you come by this idea?", had he been smoking those herbs Radagast smoked as well?

"My dear, I am anything but insane", reaching into his robe, he presented a key, "here, is this familiar to you?" shaking her head, Maethäranel saw it as something ordinary, yet it was the last parting gift of a suffering dwarf, "what you see in my hand happens to be the only key that can open the secret entrance to Erebor", her face fell straight into her open palms, "it was given to me by Thrain's hand", Maethäranel lifted her head, surprised.

"Thrain lives?", everyone thought the heir to the line of Durin dead.

"I am not certain of that", the key glistened in the cold light of the lamp Gandalf had lightned, "it is no mere occurence that it has come to me, Mäetharanel."

"I believe you, truly", she touched his hand that had the key in it, "what I fail to understand is how you expect me to work, or even get along, with those... those dwarfs."

"Need I remind you we have made a bargain?", she snorted and crossed her arms.

"Need I remind you it is a dragon we will be facing, should your plan come to be put to work?", she raised an eyebrow, for he certainly had forgotten about that. Dragons were no easy task.

"You fought a dragon before", he shrugged his shoulders, "and here you are to tell the story."

"Mithrandir, I had the right weapon for it. I was prepared for it, it was what we were called for", for the love of the Valar, he meant for the quest to happen.

"You swore to me you would not forsake me", blue eyes glared straight into his own, yet they eventually closed, thoughtful, "Mäetharanel, I understand your animosity towards dwarves, I understand the fear that grows inside you whenever the battle you fought comes into your mind, but I would not be asking you to accomplish your part of the deal if it were not strictly necessary", Mäetharanel thought. It was true, she had faced such a foe before, but it had been with her own people, not with dwarves, gold-hungry creatures.

"We may come across foes that are much too near us", a sickness swam among Durin's folk; a sickness that made them thirst for gold. But a sickness had also taken her mind, one that was called regret, "I shall accompany this journey of yours", the man smiled and had been about to speak, "and I shall also try to be cordeal towards the dwarves. However, do not expect me to remain quiet if there are provocations."

"That is the least of my concerns", everything went according to plan.

Despite being with the wizard, Mäetharanel would not stop torturing herself, especially since she kept on watching Legolas from afar. She had to see him now, for she did not know when she would see him again. The darkness had almost completely taken Greenwood, and with it, it had also taken her peace. The spiders had become more bold, and to answer accordingly, Legolas had begun going on more and more expeditions. With him, there would be a red haired eleth, a silvan elf with very long ears. What was not long, was the distance she would keep with her nephew, and this worried the princess. Legolas did not need anymore pain in his life.

Another big concern inside her mind was Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. The next few days would be the last ones she had on her own, in what remained of her peaceful state. The days of travelling to Bree would pass quickly, but what of when she met with the dwarf? Would they cross swords? Would they be polite to one another, at least? She only needed respect among them, that was all it took for the quest to resist. Gandalf's suicide mission to reconquer the Mountain would be difficult otherwise. She wondered if Thorin had been able to sleep after all the years that had passed since he lost his home, or if the fire still haunted his dreams, just like it had done to her. For a long time her nights had been taken by her comrades falling, the smell of their burnt flesh would not leave, as well as Thranduil's screams from when his face was ruined. Dragon fire was not something one could easily forget.

Then, she remembered her father. With sorrow in her eyes, Mäetharanel had taken a decision that had to be taken. It hurt, for her family was everything, but even if it would give her nothing but pain and leave an aching void deep in her soul, it had been necessary.

"My dear, are your bags all packed?", Mithrandir came outside, pipe in hand, "what haunts your thoughts now?"

"Gandalf, I have come to an agreement with my thoughts", she looked at the wizard who raised an eyebrow, She smiled a sad smile, and after taking a deep breath, she declared her decision, "I shall be Maethäranel, daughter of the world", the wizard frowned. Did she understand what she had just declared?

The proud daughter of her father, princess Mäetharanel, sired by King Donovan, grandson of Dior, was faithful to her family above anything and anyone. Forsaking her parentage made the Grey understand how much she was giving herself to the quest he begun. A part of him felt proud, arrogant even. The conversations they had during these years had shaped her well. Taking a deep drag from his pipe, and inhaling the smoke, the wizard thought about how much this elf still managed to surprise him.

"Your responsabilities...", she had not stopped going to both Doriath and the Greenwood, now more called 'Mirkwood'.

"My father lives without my assistance, he can keep on doing so", he was a king before he had been a father, and Vendethiel had managed to scare him into not leaving the castle in the woods, at last. He had finally gone back to being the cautious elf he was, "Mäetharanel, daughter of Donovan is no more and shall not be until I see fit", she trusted Vendethiel with her life, and she trusted she would take good care of her father.

"Very well then", the wizard accepted her wish, "see to it that you are fully prepared," standing up, he dusted his vests, "I shall leave in a bit."

"May the Valar protect your journey, Mithrandir", she chuckled, "Gandalf."

"You will get used to it", he patted her shoulder and went inside.

Mäetharanel gave herself to her thoughts once more and fell asleep to the sound of the leaves rustling around her. Her things had time to be prepared, now it was time to savor peace for a last time.

Given the times she had stopped so her horse could eat and rest, Mäetharanel understood that Gandalf had more than enough time to reach Bree. It had been some days, and the journey had not been bad at all. Despite her meeting with orcs, of course. Nothing she had not taken care of. The princess walked inside the Prancing Poney and analised her surroundings. Drunks, small people and hobbits were all around. The possibility of trouble was a bit too big for her and she did not like that.

"Can I help ya, miss?", the man behind the counter she had approached eyed her up and down. 

"Good evening, I am here to meet with a wizard?", her cape hid her face, an elf around those parts hadn't been something they'd see normally.

"'Course you are, these have been strange days indeed", reaching into somewhere behind the counter, he read a paper and nodded, "wait in that table", he pointed towards a more hidden table with his chin.

"Thank you for your assistance", and she sat down at the table the man had mentioned.

While waiting for Gandalf, she grabbed a piece of parchment she had found in the orc camp her journey had made her come across. It was slightly ruined, but understandable. Someone's head had a pretty price on it.

"I take it you had a good voyage to here?", Gandalf sat down and arranged his hat.

"As pleasant as it could be", she handed him the parchment and he frowned, "someone upset the orcs' higher ups."

"Thorin", Mäetharanel laughed, "come now, you understand that Oakenshield's safety is crucial?"

"Mith-Gandalf, I came here per your request. Do not make me babysit a supposed king", she rolled her eyes.

"Why, I would never do that. Thorin can handle himself quite well, and  you had your own fair share of babysitting for a lifetime", chuckled the wizard.

"I feel delighted that we're on the same page. Now, has your confirmation come? I gave you a couple days", he nodded.

"You sure did", his posture and voice became more gruff, "for a moment I thought you had abandoned the quest."

"I always keep my promises, you should know that by now", nodding, the wizard arranged himself in the chair.

"He'll be here by tomorrow, as calculated."

"And here I was hoping he would give it a deep deep thought and would not come here", she seemed genuinely disappointed, "such a shame."

"Mäetharanel, I assure you with all the reasons you can think of that Thorin would never lose such an opportunity", leaning back in her own chair, she nodded.

"Of course, the gold inside the mountain calls for him, for all of them", crossing her arms, a smirk appeared on her face.

"Mäetharanel...", warned the Grey.

"There's also the fact that many died in the fall of Erebor, I know. But keep it in mind Mithrandir, that gold will cause us trouble", she looked at a fight that had just started, "the sickness of Durin is well known. Finding Thrain certainly was not his only thought."

"Have faith", she would try to, with all her might.

"As you say", and she stood up and left, always keeping herself in the darkest part of the bar.

A shorter man walked into the Prancing Pony. Upon taking his hood off, his identity revealed to be that of Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. The waitress soon approached him to leave the food he had ordered on the table, and after thanking her and setting down his pipe, he immeadiatly feasts upon the simple bread while watching his surroudings. A suspicious man was by his right side, eyeing him strangely, and upon looking to his left, another man is also looking his way with an agressive gaze. Thorin reached for his sword as he slowly stood up, but a tall figure makes him change his attention to it.

"Mind if I join you?", asked the man who sat down, "I'll have the same", he had catched the waitress by the sleeve and made his request. Thorin noticed the other men had settled down, "I should introduce myself. I'm Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey"

"I know who you are", Thorin's deep voice answered the introduction.

"Well now! This is a fine chance. What brings Thorin Oakenshield to Bree?"

"I received word that my father had been seen wandering the Wilds near Dunland", for a second, Gandalf saw the hope in his eyes, but it went away as fast as it came", I went looking, and found no sign of him."

"Thorin, it's been a long time since anything but rumor was heard of Thrain", a gentle dwarf he had been, Thrain of the line of Durin was not as gruff as his kin, and could hold a good convsersation.

"He still lives; I am sure of it", there it was, that hope once more. Gandalf also hoped for the same, "my father came to see you before he went missing. What did you say to him?"

"I urged him to march upon Erebor; to rally the seven armies of the dwarves, to destroy the dragon and take back the Lonely Mountain. And I would say the same to you. Take back your homeland", the dwarf picked his mug up and drank with a thougthful gaze.

"This is no chance meeting, is it, Gandalf?", asked the king.

"No, it is not", a bit of honesty had never hurt, "the Lonely Mountain troubles me, Thorin. That dragon has sat there long enough. Sooner or later, darker minds will turn toward Erebor", they already thought of it. Oh, how great it would be for the dark forces to take such a strategic place for themselves, "I ran into some unsavory characters whilst traveling along the Greenway. They mistook me for a vagabond", of course, it had been Maethäranel who found them, but Thorin did not need to know that.

"I imagine they regretted that..."

"One of them was carrying a message", and he showed him the piece of parchment, "it is black speech. A promise of payment", that intrigued the dwarf.

"For what?", the wizard gave him a deadpan look.

"Your head", and there was the reaction Gandalf knew would come. Thorin glanced at him with surprise, "someone wants you dead. Thorin, you can wait no longer. You are the heir to the throne of Durin. Unite the armies of the dwarves. Together you have the might and power to retake Erebor. Summon a meeting of the seven dwarf families. Demand they stand by their oaths."

"The seven armies swore that oath to the one who wields the King's Jewel, the Arkenstone!", he spoke with finality, "it is the only thing that will unite them, and in case you have forgotten, that jewel was stolen by Smaug...", hatred appeared in his eyes as soon as the dragon was mentioned.

Gandalf proposed to help him reclaim Erebor, already with a certain ginger hobbit in his mind who would happened to be the best burglar they could find... Bilbo Baggins would lose all of his Hobbit integrity. 

They had finished their conversation, but as the dwarf stood up, Gandalf spoke.

"Ah Thorin, one more thing", the king turned to glance at the wizard and nodded, "on the outskirts of Bree, you will meet with someone who will accompany our journey", Thorin frowned, "I ask of you to accept this person".

"And why is someone waiting for me?", suspicious as always they would be, Thorin kept true to his dwarf essence, "we could meet with the others."

"Do not be suspicious. You might need time to adapt, that is the only reason why they are already here... Go now, don't make them wait", and go he did.

Mäetharanel had been pratically sleeping against a tree in the road that connected Bree with the forest tracks when her horse nudged her head.

"What is it girl?", and as she looked up, a pony came into view, "no way, I am not prepared for this", groaned the princess, but alas, she had to be.

Standing up and mounting her horse, Mäetharanel made sure she followed Thorin's path, discretly. She went around so she would appear right in front of him, only speeding up whenever his pony would also speed up. She wanted to give him the displeasure of seeing who he was working with, so, before stopping him, the princess slowly walked right into the moonlight.

"Good evening, Master Dwarf", came her quiet welcome. Thorin stopped his mount and glanced at her, even though her hood hide her face well.

"I suppose you are the one Gandalf the Grey said I'd meet?", asked the dwarf, with a raised eyebrow.

"Why, you wouldn't be expecting anyone else at such a wee time of the night?", her voice was jesting, and he frowned.

"And who is the person I was asked to warm up to?", a loud laugh came from the female.

"My, my! That wizard truly is one of a kind! His jokes never get old", and without hesitance, the elf showed her face while making sure her pierced pointed ears were well seen.

"You have got to be kidding me", disdain appeared on Thorin's face. How dare he invite an elf to reclaim his homeland? They had not helped when needed, why would they do it now!?, "I refuse to accept this."

"Calm down your majesty, we both dislike this situation", mocked Maethäranel, fully aware that she was provoking him even further, "however, it seems we will both win something out of this."

"And what will you win? Entertainment by further harming my people!?", he was red in the face, but Mäeth did not care.

"Thorin Oakenshield, I will have you know that even if I dislike your race, I will do anything in my power to make sure my promises are accomplished. Gandalf the Grey just so happens to have made a promise with me, one I will not abandon", she glared straight into his deep blue eyes, "I vowed I'd be there should he need me, and I intend to keep my part."

"Tch, all your kind knows is betrayal and death!", she snorted.

"It seems I forgot how full of honor your kind is!", she rolled her eyes and glared right back at him, "you, who live with nothing but gold thirst and violence", she spat out the words, "here we are now. Both against each other, but let me tell you, dwarf prince", he was about to answer, but she did not let him, she did not care if he was to be the next king, he still wasn't one, "despite your accusations, here I am, willing to put every offense ever done to my kind behind my back. I assure you that what you accuse me of had nothing to do with me. I was not there when Erebor fell", Thorin's eyes filled with pain, and for a second his eyebrow shook, "but I will be there for it's reconquest. You and I will work together, for Erebor to return to it's true habitants, to finish the reign of the dragon that took it. You have faced dragon fire, I know it, Smaug is no stranger to you, however, he still lives", her posture became proud, "the dragon I faced doesn't", and he fully faced her now, surprised. The elf fought a dragon and lived? Perhaps Gandalf had not been a complete fool. 

"What are you called?", no matter how much Thorin did not care for her name, he could not call her 'elf' for the rest of the quest.

"In other circunstances, you might have called me something else", he'd address her as 'princess' or 'my lady', but now she was not any of that, "seeing as such times are not called for, you may know my name, and it is Mäetharanel."

"Warrior Princess?", she nodded. It appeared he still knew how to translate elvish, "very well, Mäetharanel, I hope I will not regret this decision. Welcome to the Company", she nodded, and with no further conversation, they started their path.

The forms of Ered Luin's mountains appeared after somedays. She stared at them as the approached, how tall, mighty and beautiful they were! For many years, she had faced those mountains, from Doriath and from the forest that separated them. Arda truly knew how to gift all kinds by making such beautiful landscapes, and unlike what her kin would say, not even the dwarves had made it lose it's shine and beauty. They liked to keep their home well, too.

Thorin noticed her far away expression and quietly watched her. This elf, Mäetharanel, was a straightforward character, indeed. From the moment they began journying together, no animosity came out of her mouth, despite Thorin's raised eyebrows whenever their eyes met, she said nothing. She simply nodded her head, acknowledging him, and kept going. The only words they had exchanged, as far as he remembered, were words through gritted teeth as rain began pouring and he had decided to provoke her about her hair. Her patience deserved credit, for even of she was upset and he had tried to had salt to the wound, she did not grab what few things she had and mounted her horse to leave. It seemed she ould honor her words, despite being provoked.

"The Blue Mountains," she turned to him, "I cannot assure you our full hospitality", and the eleth chuckled.

"As expected of you", and her horse galopped much faster than it should've had, leaving Thorin behind.

What would Ered Luin give her? She had no idea, but Valar help her.

Chapter Text

Dwarven lands were always a challenge for elves. Even if Mäeth faced it like something entertaining, walking through the streets with dwarves glaring and giving her strange looks was not something she enjoyed. Some would even spat after she walked by them. Thorin, who was leading the way in his pony, was either unware or did not care, but it didn't matter, for Mäetharanel ignored the offences. For now.

Following after the dwarf, she noticed they were getting closer and closer to the large building that stood in the centre of the busy square. After dismounting her horse and tying her reigns to a post, she looked up towards the end of the tall stone walls and chuckled while giving her mare some pats. Someone had a complex with heights.

"My King, welcome back", the guards in front of the doors were short and wide. While they bowed down to Thorin, who simply nodded and walked forth, to Mäetharanel, they crossed their spears in front of the entrance so she would not go inside, "My lord, this... elvish woman is allowed to enter?", spat out the dwarf.

"She is", he allowed her entrance without even turning around. When walking through the entrance, now free, the elf stopped right where the spears had been and almost killed the dwarves with her stare.

The halls she went through where not as magnificent as the doors she had seen. Mostly made of stone, it was cold inside, but the princess was not aware if it had been from the stone, or from the anger in the eyes of the dwarves they had gone by. She understood their hatred, Mäetharanel could almost say she would do much worse than glare at someone that belonged to a race that had not helped her and her kin, but when Erebor fell she had not been there. If only they knew that as soon as the elven army returned and she found the opportunity to speak with Thranduil, she had condemned the attitude of the king... elves are precious, but so are other creatures.

"Wait here", alone with her thoughts, the elf forgot about the dwarf in front of her, and when he spoke her eyes widened and her shoulders tensed, "I understand that being is here has not been nice to you, but to get scared when I speak?", if Oakenshield wanted to play, they could both do it. He thought he was good at provoking?

"Do not flatter yourself, it was your face that made me fear for my eyes", answered Mäetharanel.

"Oh?", Thorin raised an eyebrow, "if we're being honest, might I say how your height is surprising?", how dare he!?

"I suggest you go inside before your race loses their first heir", said she, speaking through her teeth. With a smug smirk on his face, Thorin walked inside the room and closed the doors.

The window nearby the room gave the perfect view of the great forest that had taken it's home around Ered Luin. Looking further ahead, she could almost see the outlines of Doriath, and her father's smile entered her mind.

"Ada, I miss you", mumbled the elvish lady, "forgive me, please", and the doors opened once again, but no one was there to welcome her.

"Come in", Thorin ordered, and in she went, "this is the one I mentioned, she calls herself Mäetharanel", and she bowed down with respect.

"I did not think I'd live to see the day an elf would bow before me", came the voice of one of the dwarves that sat around the round table.

"You certainly did not expect me to disrespect you in your own home, my lord?", after the trip there, Mäeth felt rather impatient. 

"I'd expect anything from someone whose kin let innocents perish", spat out the man. The glare she gave him made his body rigid, and the guards that had opened the door stood ready to kill.

"I assure I was not present when such events occurred", answered the woman, with anger concealed in her voice.

"Easy, Dranur. Mäetharanel is a member of the company that will regain us Erebor, and as such you will treat her with respect," when Mäeth faced Thorin, surprise had taken her eyes, "gentlemen, shall we discuss the matters that have developed while I was away?", the all answered affirmatively.

"Then, I shall take my leave. With your permission", Thorin nodded and she bowed down to him, then to the other dwarves and left.

She did not even look at the guards that had barred her entry, and quickly mounted her mare. Galopping through the tall stone gates, she meant to leave and not return, but as soon as she entered the forest, her mare turned back on her own. The forest air wouldnot let her breath, it was impure with something she could not identify. Even if she wanted to take the roads she knew would take her staright into her father's realm, she could not. Even if the longbeards had established themselves so near her home, she couldn't bear the journey that would take her to her Ada's arms. She thought of returning to Greenwood, to see Legolas once more and to stay there with him, to help the realm fight whatever was killing all the nature around them, but she could not breath, she could not think. So, she turned back and decided to wait for Thorin right outside the building where he was. 

some hours later

"You waited here?" Mäetharanel turned around and thanked every Valar that existed that he came out just as she had been about to start taking her hair off her own scalp.

"And where were you expecting me to go? To the nearest tavern so I could drink with my dwarven friends? They would love that", Thorin smirked and walked down the stairs.

"You need not go to a tavern to almost be killed, master elf", and he mounted his pony.

"You don't say?", and she followed after him, once more

The day had gone so well that Mäeth wondered why she had not been to Ered Luin sooner. Her only doubt was if she should have gone there when feeling like killing someone or whenever she wanted to get killed. Had it not been for Mithrandir, half of the dwarves that had insulted her would be dead, more than half of the ones she has heard spitting on her path would be put to torture and the children (or she assumed they were, everyone had beards there) would be given manners. Here she was, following their supposed king, and not even that made them see through their blind rage. Oh, how she hated them so much more now.

"Mäetharanel, I must ask you to wait outside once more", Thorin dismounted in front of a house. She nodded, and decided the floor was her biggest enemy and glared at it. Oakenshield nodded back, and knocked on the door three times.

It did not take long for the door to open. A white haired dwarf appeared at the entrance to the house, and has soon as his eyes saw Thorin, a very big smile took his face. While they hugged and violently hit their foreheads together, Mäetharanel cringed with the strength they hit each other, but also stared in wonder. That might have been the first time she saw a dwarf smile with no malice intended. They spoke for a few moments, in hushed whispers and in their secret languagem, while holding each other's arms, before walking inside. She followed when Thorin turned to lack back at her and nodded. The conversation they were having should have been the same the heir had when back in the council room, but all she cared for was to leave the place as soon as possible, so, after she diped her head down so she could enter, what she supposed was, the home of the other dwarf Thorin had been speaking with, and holding her head high once more, she thought the day would end better than it started. But no, there was another dwarf inside, who welcomed her as expected.

"YE MUST BE JOKING!", yelled a partially bald dwarf, with a big mustache and a full black beard, "ye must be out of your damn'd mind Thorin!", his shoulders shook with anger.

"Dwalin, be at ease", the dwarf that had answered the door tried to calm the other. It appeared he would be the most considerate of the two, for he merely analysed her before shouting, unlike the other one who immeaditly glared and yelled.

"What do ye mean 'be at ease'?", turning to her once again he pointed at her with a large finger, "I'd rather be killed by me own axe than having to fight alongside one of these!", yelled 'Dwalin', his face red in anger. 

"Brother, wai-", oh, brothers were they? How different they proved to be! Despite the insults, she glanced at him and nodded.

"I apologise for such an inconvenience, master dwarf, and I can say the feeling is completely returned. However, I have a debt. One I intend to pay, and so, I shall do as was asked of me", the dwarf's eyes widened when she bowed, "my bow, my sword and my powers are yours", stomping away and cursing, the male went deeper into the house.

"Forgive my brother, lady...?", a polite dwarf was much welcomed into her life.

"Mäetharanel, master dwarf", he nodded and smiled, gently.

"Lady Mäetharanel, forgive my brother, for he desn't forget easily... none of us do", he was smilling, but his words were everything but happy. If only they could stop accusing her of something she had not done, "however, I believe in the way of doing things correctly. Thorin tells us you were recommended by a wizard?", she nodded, "well then, welcome to the company of Thorin Oakenshield", and for a second, Mäeth almost felt welcome. Almost.

When they walked outside of the home, after Thorin promised to give Balin, the white haired dwarf, more details of the quest, Mäetharanel felt slightly hopeful. Now that they arrived at, finally, the last place they had to go to, whatever made her think positively of the damned quest Mithrandir had started, was forgotten. Thorin had taken them to his house and after dropping their things there, he asked her to accompany him once more, which she did. Well, they had not walked far this time, no, they went to nearest house, the one that Oakenshield had informed her was his sister's, after he had already knocked. 

Much was said about the only daughter prince Thrain of Erebor had, but every time there would be mentions of an intimidating dwarrowdam, or that she was a strong, unforgiving warrior that would crush her enemies with a simple look. Unlike the other places they had been to, Thorin walked inside after knocking and nodded so she would follow him right away, before closing the door behind him, then he walked inside a room and all she heard were happy cries, with a lot of kuzhdul, that she did not understand, in between. When they switched to the common tongue, after Thorin began speaking it, the strong female voice she had been hearing was not so happy anymore. It had been amusing to hear her guide speaking of another female inside the house, and it had been even funnier when Thorin's sister began provoking him about his companion, but the most amusing part was when he revealed Mäetharanel's race. Silence took the house, until-

"WHAT?", the sound of something falling to the ground and loud footsteps coming out of the room Thorin had gone inside of were heard and then, there she was. Dis, daughter of Thrain, daughter of Thror, appeared while holding a wooden cooking spoon in her hand, "THORIN OAKENSHIELD!", she had faced her with gritted teeth and eyes full of hatred, her face all red, before yelling for her big brother. When two younger dwarves came out of the kitchen, one blonde, with long hair and within normal dwarf height, with an equally blonde moustache styled with twin braids and a well kept beard, and the other one a brunette, taller, without a single hair on his face, they saw a smirk in Mäetharanel's face. With how close they stood to one another, it was obvious they were siblings, and protective of each other.

"Fili, Kili," each nodded when their uncle called for them after he too came out of the room, "Dís, let me speak-", he had spoken slowly and with the calmest tone she had heard from him.

"YOU DARE BRING AN ELF INSIDE MY HOME!?", her rage was now turned to her own brother, and as she questioned him, the elf could not get her gaze away from the spoon that was being waved in the air, "Fili, Kili, get inside! Brother, I swear to Mahal that if something happens to my children while she is here, her head won't be the only one decorating my wall!", Mäetharanel laughed, and Dís turned to her, spoon still in hand, "You dare laugh at me?!"

"Rest, Dís, daughter of Thráin, for your children matter not to me," they looked ar her indignantly, "fine warriors such as them are useful for more than harbouring the works they have been doing, and I am not known for ruining resources. I make good use of them," her blue eyes met Fili's and he didn't turn his gaze away.

"My children are not some thing you may use! They are-"

"Grown dwarven princes of the line of Durin with a duty to fulfill", nodded the elf, "and so shall be done," she stood up and shrugged, "I have heard your brother speaking of them, princess, he often mentioned you three when we visited the places we previously went to", she glared and got closer to her children, "and I agree with what I heard. Your oldest, Fili, is supposed to come with us, Kili, however, is young."

"Where my brother goes, I go too", as tall as he was, the darker haired sibling stood even straighter and glared at Mäetharanel. He would not leave his brother.

"I expected you would say that. You are brother's after all", murmured Mäetharanel, and Thorin, who had been silenced by the woman of the house, watched her with a frown, "it is decided then, should my word have any meaning, you will come too. Your line has extraordinary powers, powers that shall be, as I have said before, put to good use", turning to Dís, the elf smiled, "I understand your heart, your wish to protect them. And I assure you that worrying is not necessary, for they seem built for what will come. They have time to get even better", the dwarrowdam glared and her hand went through her beard.

The hostess was a short woman with a large bossom and thick, curly red hair that was currently tied in a messy bun on top of her head. She wore a white dress with blue details and a royal blue apron on top. From what Mäeth could tell, the dwarrowdam's ears were much more pierced than her own. Her blue eyes commended respect and the spoon in her hand could be a terrible weapon, should she get even more angry. Her children had aprons too, it seemed they had been cooking, together. Dís was one to attack first and to think later, something the elf was sure had gotten her in trouble before, but this was her home, and Mäetharanel had walked in uninvited. Impulsive much like the other dwarves, the short woman had answered accordingly. Princess Dís looked at her, up and down and multiple times. Only when Mäeth showed her weapons and began taking all the hidden ones out of their places, did she appear satisfied.

"You shall put those at the entrance, and whatever you mess up shall be cleaned by your hand! I do not want messes inside this house", Mäetharanel shook her head and obeyed, "my idiot of a brother tells me you are staying for dinner, which you will help make, elf."

"Mäetharanel," Dís raised her eyebrows, "my name is Mäetharanel".

"Warrior princess, eh?", snorting, the elf walked towards the dam, "what?"

"I said the same," said Thorin, who finally found it safe to speak, "certainly she expected we would no be educated in her language."

"We do not hide our language, master dwarf", despite understanding what she meant, they did not comment on it. She might not hide her language, but she hid something. Everyone did.

"To the kitchen, both of you!", Kili and Fili quickly did so, "and you two! That table isn't preparing itself!", Thorin chuckled and went to grab the towel that was in a drawer in the small living room.

Massaging her long curls, Dís let herself think seriously. While tying her hair in a bun once again, the dam found it difficult to believe her brother, Thorin Oakenshield, enemy number one of the elvish race, would have faith in the elf that helped him set the table they were about to dine in, all together. He could not handle hearing about elves, so how come he had accepted her? Had her brother felt it was the right thing to do? Or was he that desperate for their home? Huffing, Dís understood that she too would have to warm up to Mäetharanel, for if she didn't, no one else around them would. After all, she was a princess, and she knew how much her influence was felt when it came to other dwarves. Walking inside the kitchen, she saw her boys cooking together. Fili hit the back of Kili's head who laughed loudly and she felt dread consuming her. Thorin meant to take them to battle, just like he had taken Frerin. Tears began taking her eyes, and she shook her head. Her boys were ofthe line of Durin, the Deathless, and war ran in their veins. They could handle it.

"Amad?", called Kili and she stiffened.

"What are you doing, boy? Stirr it the other way now!", and he hurriedly did so. They would go away, yes, but they would not go away untrained, no. She would have a word with Dwalin, and if they were not prepared yet, she would take over training them herself. 

She had lost much, but she would not lose her children. She would not lose anyone she cared for. Never again.

Chapter Text

Ered Luin became more and more easy to live in but, should anyone ask her, Mäetharanel would say it was the most terrible thing that happened to her. The royal family had welcomed her, and the other dwarves eventually warmed up to her too. Her days were spent with Dís, who attended to her responsibilities as the lady of the Durin line. Everyone knew and followed her, but above all, everyone believed her and held deep care towards the sister of Thorin. It had taken two trips to the market with Dís hooking her arm around Mäetharanel's and laughing with her, only that, for the other dwarves to stop glaring at the elf. Thanks to that, she had enjoyed two years of peace and quiet, at least when it came to the other beings.

Thorin, as the heir and future king, had no time to do anything but attend to things that concerned the Blue Mountains' safety or the quest to reclaim their true home. Sometimes, he would appear to quickly have a meal, or because he had forgotten something back at home, which Mäetharanel noticed happened quite frequently. Because she lived with him, it was unavoidable that she would memorize his schedule, but one particular day, he surprised her by appearing when he was not supposed to. 

Putting the scrolls she had been reading in the table, she turned her head around to look at him as he walked inside the house, with grim in his clothes and hair. He had gone on an orc hunt, for sure, which meant Kili and Fili hadn't gone with him, probably Dwalin and some other guards, and brought a bag in his hand that had something heavy in it. Imagine Mäetharanel's surprise when he discarded the bag in the table, went to have a bath, and after she stood up to quench her curiosity, she found an orc head inside. That he had put on the table. THE TABLE, where they ate. When Thorin walked inside the living room, his hair still wet and with no shirt, the elf began lecturing him about bringing trash inside the house. The dwarf lord waved her off and told her how it had been a great prey. It had been the last time Mäetharanel touched any bag he brought.

The quest had been under preparation for some time now. Thorin would often call for Mäetharanel so she could give her invoice, which she appreciated. Dwalin, who was in charge of training young Fili and Kili, when his guard duties allowed him, would always be present, and more often than not, him and the elf would argue about the decisions the other would make. It was a dragon they would be going against, and it would be no easy task. Balin, sweet Balin who always took some time to think and ask before speaking, was the middle ground between them. So far, he had been the most caring dwarf she had met, as he would ask about how she was adapting, how her health was or how she was handling the weather. Even after years, he cared for such questions. He was also Thorin's scribe, which meant they met occasionally, for he had to attend every meeting. One of the last meetings they had concerning the Company's members proved to be successful; they all accepted the challenge. Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Óin, Glóin, Dori, Nori and Ori would be joining them! 

"It will be a most difficult quest, Thorin", they had met in Thorin's home this time, and Balin spoke after analysing all he had written.

"Do not fret, cousin", the king put a hand on his shoulder, "We may be few, but we are dwarves."

"My only concern, at the moment, as I have not met the other dwarves, is if Fili and Kili are ready", Mäetharanel leaned back against the chair and looked down at the papers the older Fundinson had brought to them. They contained the acceptance of the other members.

"Of course you'd doubt of me trainees!", the elf smirked at Dwalin's remark. The princess found herself annoying the dwarf more and more in the two years she had met him. It was almost a hobby she had.

"Dwalin, my dear, it is not your training that concerns me", she crossed her legs and untied her hair, "I worry about their prudence when it comes to one another. They are young, after all", pausing on purpose so she would look at the ends of her hair, she soon resumed the conversation, "young and dwarves", the three of them scoffed, and Dwalin even glared at her, "you cannot deny how prideful you all are!", throwing the hair strand back she frowned, "Dwalin, your training sessions with them will do them no good if they cannot control themselves."

"You need not concern yourself over my nephew's temper when in battle", said Thorin, who sat on the chair closest to her, "Kili and Fili know how to keep their cool."

"I understand they can keep cool, but what about themselves? Their union?", for Valar's sake, it was as if they did not have siblings of their own!

"Mäetharanel means they are too attached", blessed Balin, he always understood her faster than any of them, "you are right, Dwalin, Thorin, they are young and capable. However, let's see things from this perspective: Kili gets in a bad situation during the quest. Will Fili be able to control himself? Or will he throw himself into danger's claws so he can save his brother?", the boys' uncle looked down, "we all know the answer to that", silence ensued after Balin's scenario, "We would lose both of them."

"It won't happen", defended Thorin, "I believe them capable of rationality, should something like that happen", and even if Dwalin nodded, doubt clouded his gaze.

Mäetharanel and Thorin were soon left alone in the heir's home. Inside her bed, the elf could not stop thinking about Fili and Kili. Had it been her and Vilissë, she would not hesitate to throw reason to the wind and save her sister. Dís was their mother, and she had spent a lot of time with Dís, which meant she spent a lot of time around them, watching their every step. Always attached to the hip, the brothers did most things together. Fili carried himself differently, for he was Thorin's heir and carried more weight in his broad shoulders, but not even this would slouch his proud posture. Kili, the younger of the two, was more relaxed, always either behind or by his brother's side, but he was not unaware. Even if his eyes screamed 'mischief' he had proved to be quite serious when necessary, and worked excellently with Fili. While the older brother looked ahead, the younger looked around. 

She knew their history by heart and soul, and she feared the undying love they felt for each other could bring their dome.

Mäetharanel had not done much during the day. Dwalin had stopped by Thorin's home and they had gone on patrol around the mountain, but other than that, the day had been peaceful. They were now at a tavern, and the elf found herself questioning how they had been able to allure  her into one. If anyone had said anything about her presence, her excuse would be that scouting Ered Luin had left her much too tired to complain when Fili and Kili took advantage of her frail state and took her inside. Loud laughs made her look around the place, and then she found them, the sons of Dís, but they weren't themselves for long. They became much taller beings, with much longer hairs, their clothes were dresses, and they were not inside a tavern, but surrounded by the green of nature and the brown of the earth. The loud voices were silent, and she could only hear the wind. Their hands holding ale were now holding each other's as they spoke. They were Vilissë and Mäetharanel in their youth, and oh, she missed those times. Sadness took her and would not leave. Balin, who had been speaking with another dwarf, noticed her expression and smiled.

"Lads!", the brothers looked at him, "why is our elf so crestfallen?", Mäetharanel's head looked up and she frowned. Damned Balin! Had he switched with his brother?

"Oi, Mäeth!", yelled Kili, "come! Dance with us!", she raised an eyebrow at him and shook her head.

"There's no way you can be sad around us, c'mon!", yelled Fili right after his brother.

"Boys, I don't thi-", and each brother grabbed an arm and forced her into her feet, "Kili, Fili! I can't dance like you!", but they only laughed and made her move.

Perhaps it had been because she was frail, and all she wanted was for them to be happy in that moment. Perhaps it had been because she needed a distraction, but she tried to dance with them. In that day, surrounded by dwarves and being held by Fili and Kili, Mäeth learned that she was not so bad at dancing their dances.

"Look at that brother, my boys made the elf dance our dances!", Dís laughed loudly while slapping the table, "the things my children can do!"

"You doubted, sister? They would have annoyed her until she did it", Thorin threw his ale back and looked at Mäetharanel before shaking his head. An elf dancing in a dwarven table? Unthinkable.

Soon, they let go of her to go dance on their own. The patrons around them sang even louder, made even more noise and laughed even harder when they stumbled on their own feet. Had Mäeth not kept her identity a secret, none of this would be possible. Fili and Kili wouldn't have made her dance their dances and she wouldn't have had the pleasure of reading the books Balin had let her borrow or throw Dwalin to the ground. She would never go around the market with Dís, or help Thorin arrange scrolls which contained important notes. She would just be Princess Mäetharanel.

The sun was already appearing when Thorin and Mäetharanel left to go home. Most people inside the tavern were either knocked out or were leaving after them. As they walked in silence, the elf decided something.

"Bringing them with us will work for the better", Thorin faced her but she kept looking ahead.

"It will", the dwarf nodded, "even if only to lighten this somber mission, it will."

"Oh, certainly not... They will help much. You know that better than me", Thorin unlocked the door, and they walked inside.

"Good morning, Mäetharanel", Mäeth chuckled and smiled at him.

"Good morning, Thorin", and they went to sleep.

Chapter Text

Her stay in Ered Luin made her understand somethings she dreaded: dwarves did not work much different than elves did. Like a normal elven scribe, Balin walked around everyday making sure everything was assigned to it's right place so he could write down what they had gotten throught the day and the progress of their home. Dwalin, unlike his brother who busied himself with brains, preferred to put his body to good use. As head of the guard of Ered Lindon, the dwarf had gotten some names for himself, names he would make sure were known for his great fighting skills, strategies and his ruthless training of the new rockees, who didn't even flinch when doing the vigorous training dearest Dwalin would make them face. This, of course, included hunting for, as he would say 'ye never know when ye'll need ta hunt prey, lass'. Which, of course, ended in her having to hide from some elves that would go there to hunt and which would lead to her misteriously disappear suddenly from the critical situations that would ensure, and of course, Dwalin would question her right after they got back. 

It had been difficult to understand them at first, especially because of how different they were. Balin wore respectable clothing while Dwalin was most found with his chest on full display. Balin was always wearing a smile whenever she approached (it had taken some weeks for that to happen, as she recalled) and Dwalin would try to make her stay as much little time as possible while flexing his muscles, mumbling angry kuzdhul or making agressive work moves, to whom she would merely laugh at and sit in a nearby stool, either watching him work at the smithy or training the new lads. The two were opposites and they were brothers, the closest thing Maeth had ever noticed was the love they felt for each other.

Thorin, Fili and Kili were very close to Balin and Dwalin, which made sense for they were the main branches of Durin's folk, at least to her. Well, Dain Ironfoot was also somewhere between there, but he was a completely different case. Mithrandir found Thorin to be more likeable than the other dwarf lord, and that was saying a lot to Maeth back then. Thinking of Mithrandir made her feel slight annoyance for she had been left alone with the dwarves for a long time and heard nothing of the wizard.

"Thorin, how long until the quest begins?", asked Dwalin while sharpening his axe.

"Not long now", answered their king, "soon we shall leave to reconquer our home".

"All the contracts are signed and the preparations have already begun so we have no surprises when the time to leave comes", the elf laughed openly and Balin raised an eyebrow.

"By the Valar Balin, is that why you've been running around town and always coming back here and going back again?", and when he nodded she shook her head, "Now this is commitment".

"As expected of him", and the dwarves went back to their tasks.

On her own, Maetharänel wondered about many things. What would happen during the quest? And afterwards, would they all make it back home? Her last conversation with Mithrandir before leaving his home had been about that, about the fact she might not come back to Greenwood. Her answer had been simple, no one would take her away from her loved ones, be it a orc, a human or a damn dragon, let them try. 

"Maeth!", ah, there was Kili, "What are you doing out here on your own?"

"Why, I am thinking young one. Good evening Fili", Fili merely nodded and sat by her side.

"Are you not cold?", asked the heir of Durin.

"Going to give me your jacket, your highness?", Maetharänel laughed at his angry expression, "You were not the only ones who had to go against bad weather, Fili... Even if we are not nomads, elves do adapt well to weather".

"Specially water elves, eh?", Kili smiled at her and she raised an eyebrow.

"Been studying, have you? But indeed, water elves adapt well to cold tempearatures", Fili nodded and looked up at the sky, "I see I am not the only one with deep thoughts".

"Amad has been worried for the quest", the blonde would mostly clarify what was on his mind.

"About the quest, or about you two?"

"Us three, actually", Kili stared at the sky too, "She has been cooking our favorite meals more frequently, sometimes she even goes to the smithy when uncle isn't there to check on us!", It was so much like Dís to go watch her boys.

"Balin and Dwalin have been planning the last details for the quest", she glanced at both of them and smiled, "With them on the planning, I believe everything will be well thought of. Let's have faith in Blain, at least".

"I am so gonna tell Dwalin", Maetharänel smirked.

"Please do!", Kili grinned and Fili have her a small smile before saying their farewells. After giving one last look towards the forest, Maetharanel walked towards the home of Thorin to sleep with her thoughts. 

Several weeks later, while going on her usual stroll throught the shadows of Ered Luin, the elf came upon a much funny sight... Dwalin, son of Fundin, sleeping. In the wild of the training grounds. Snoring loudly, he was the opposite of his brother, as usual; Balin had been running around with many papers on his hands and had quickly said 'no' to anytime she offered her help. 

"Dwalin", she needed only whisper and an axe was being thrust to her face.

"WHY YE BLOODY ELVEN IDIOT!", he was obviously angry and she snorted before laughing, "Ye laugh!? Ye fool! Ye do not wake a sleeping dwarf you crazy elf!", she bent down in a very unlady like way from laughing so much

"I fear you not, master dwarf! Half awake or asleep, I need not be afraid of your axe or your fury!"

Dwaling grumbled as he dressed the top of his body, and strangely waited for her as she eventually calmed down. The way back to his house was quiet save from some dwarves directing themselves towards the youngest Fundinson to either chatter up about weapon requests or to mencion how grateful they were for the training of their sons; but they'd never say 'thank you', instead they would slap him on the shoulder and say that 'their lad was doing much better with an axe/sword!'. Upon reaching his house, Balin came to the door, eyes very tired and hair everywhere.

"Oh Balin... see to it that you rest", he gently smiled at her with appreciation in his eyes. This dwarf had been the first to welcome her to their land just right and for that he would always have her heart.

"Lady Maetharänel , thank you for bringing Dwalin back. Had you not done so, he'd be back in the wee hours of night from Mahal knows where."

"As you can see, he is back to where he belongs", Balin nodded and made way for his brother who woalked straight towards the kitchen as soon as he was inside their home, "I wish you both a good evening."

"You too, lady Maetharänel ", and when his brother did not say anything he coughed against his fist.

"Yeah yeah, evening lass", nodding to Balin for a last time, she turned her back.

The day had been filled with, finally, the last arrangements to the quest. All that was left to do was to wait for the time where they would leave Ered Luin and be given to their fates, or to the dragon, who knows...

There was only one thing she was certain of: they would not come back the same. 

Chapter Text

Maetharänel, as you all know, is a princess. An elven princess, thank you very much. However, no matter how different their races were, she felt for Dís; the dwarrowdam dealed with everything Maeth once had to deal with. Her days were filled with meetings which would not always end up well especially because she had a short temper, but even worse than that was keeping small talk with the other 'important' dams. Sometimes dear Dís (where that pet name had come from, the elf didn't know) would be absolutely tired, her eyes said it all, but the others would insist on keeping conversation, so there she went, Dís' elf in shining armor and would excuse herself, ask the other princess to follow her and they'd go away. Sometimes she'd be thankful, others she'd be absolutely livid, never at Maeth tho, and, in very few times, she'd become thougtful.

"What if they seeked my opinion on something important?"

"They have time for that, now you must rest and spend time with your boys".

And it'd end there. Her boys... Even if she hated doing it, for if anyone used Legolas as an excuse to anything she'd become very upset, she would use Fili and Kili to get their mother away, and the poor thing would do so. So was a mother's heart, always aching to be near her offspring. And oh, how difficult it was to part from her boys! Even if their... demonstration of affection would get quite violent, the elven lady had quickly come to the realisation that they were just like that, violence was in their nature, so why wouldn't they also use violence as a way of showing love? It had taken a bit to get used to seeing them bump their foreheads harshly as a way of displaying affection, but as long as no one got hurt or tried to do the same to her, so be it, let them be how they are.

Much of her time was spent with Dís, for Thorin would always have much to take care of. The most she had been near the dwarf had been around a day and a half, but that didn't diminuish how they had started talking more, and about more as well, or the way that Maetharänel would start catching up on little things to know what state of spirit the dwarf was in (not that the way his fingers set a slowly quickening tap on a table were a good way of hiding he was progressively becoming annoyed by the conversation, or how the left side of his mouth would smirk first then his whole mouth when he was enjoying something around him, or... that's enough). Maetharänel was a princess, but she was also a warrior, and the battlefield was no stranger to her. Rarely were the times when he'd call for her to gather her opinion when it came to the quest, and she understood why, but whenever it was about the safety of Ered Luin or knowing if they had resources, she would be there every single time because Thorin had quickly catched how well she knew the forest and it's characteristics. And it's not like he didn't know about it, oh no, he was quite good at knowing where to put his warriors, or where to ambush the orcs that approached, but still there was something about how she could feel what the forest was feeling, be it because she was more upset in that day, or because her spirits were quite high... she just knew. Of course that was due to the fact that she had been living between Greenwood and the kingdom besides his her whole life, but the less he knew about that, the better.

It was obvious the quest was reaching it's due time (they'd leave in about two months), for there had been more parties, less meetings and less headaches. No matter how unlikable the dwarven race was, they sure knew how to have empathy towards their own. It had been in a party like any other, with loud singing dwarves and dwarrowdams, a lot of ale and people dancing on top of tables that Maethäranel felt even more connected to Dís. It was in that evening that they shared the deepest link of them all; grief. She was a desperate daughter much like her, an aching sister and a proud mother. And as Maetharänel watched the only daughter of Thráin drink much more than she should, she frowned. Sat by Dwalin's side, Dís laughed and sang and ate much like all of them while Maeth herself ate an apple and observed those around her; Thorin was speaking with Dwalin, Fili and Kili were dancing and the other members of the quest (which were the only people she had truly conversed with) were cheering them on. Soon, the middle child of the lost king threw herself in a chair next to hers and while she laughed, the elf understood her eyes were not so happy, and the worst had been how she had instantly recognised the feeling as deep needing. But of what? Soon her laughter died down to chuckles and then to absolute silence as she faced her cup filled almost to the brink. How many had she had by then Maetharänel did not know, but Valar help her with the headache that she would be feeling in the next morning.

"It is amazing how alcohol messes with your head, even after you've been drinking it since a wee age, ain't it?", asked the dwarrowdam.

"Dís, you've had-"

"We were much too young when we were thrown to fate's hand", her voice was slightly slurred but understandable, it had certainly been enough to shut her up, "Thorin, father and Thrór took us and the other dwarves through many paths, we'd settle and soon we'd be going once again. It was in an instance like this one when I had Fili. Vili had panicked, Thorin had instantly called for a stop and my labor was difficult and took much too long, but I had him, my dear golden child... Vili wept like his newborn child, Thorin almost didn't have time to kiss his forehead, Thráin barely held him, and they were off to reconquer Moria, off to Azanulbizar. And they didn't come back. Thrór had been beheaded, father was missing, we know nothing of his fate until today", the way she had sobered up so fast wasn't normal, the elf was certain of it, "Thorin and Vili were the only ones who returned to me, for our Frerín was also taken", her voice shook and Mäetharanel stiffened, "we were just going through here and there, mourning wasn't something we could do, we had no time. Until we reached Ered Luin, and I was almost bursting with Kili", this time she smiled, her eyes shined and her hand grasped her ale to swing it back and into her mouth, "but not even three months later, orcs attacked an expedition Thorin had done in order to get more food. Vili accompanied him, and then he too did not return", her bottom lip shook and she bit it, "Fili cried for so long, and Kili was restless, three months old and already so smart", chuckling, Dís shook her head, "my brother blames himself. Even if I never blamed him, for Vili would have followed him to the pits of hell if needed, he took it to heart that he had lost yet another brother because of one of his decisions. Frerín had fought by his side, but he too passed, and no matter how much my husband had been with him he would never substitute our sibling, but it was a relief to have yet another capable dwarf by his side", she sighed and her shoulders slumped, "and now he wants to take my children to reclaim yet another land of ours... fool", Maetharänelstared into her blue eyes with a face void of emotion, but her eyes said much, and Dís smiled, "you understand this. You too have lost much", the elf's eyes widened and the dwarrowdam laughed loudly, "My dear, you truly have a lot to know yet!"

"I have. I have lost too much as well", answered the thoughtful elven woman. Dís nodded, after telling her story, it was obvious the other knew her feelings were understood, "but we do not let that stop us, do we?", Dís grinned and brought her cup up to toast to that before downing the rest of the ale in one go.

"You... must promise me something", she was so flushed with drink one again and the brunnette was so certain she definitely would not know what she'd say anymore, but she nodded, "my children will be brought back to me. Unarmed and living, promise me this, elf", she glared and Maetharänel could not help the smile that assaulted her face.

"I promise", and she truly did.

Chapter Text

Forest air would always be something Mäeth could not live without. Even if it had become poisoned due to the orcs settling across it, the forest was still a huge part of her, and it's creatures too. She might have gotten used to the dwarves and to a lot of their customs, but she could never get used to how they would hunt for animals so they could eat them. 

The poor creatures were not meant to be eaten, but to keep others company. She had tried to dissuade them from eating the animals, or to at least reduce it, but they would wave her off and had just kept on doing it.

They'd invite her to hunt parties, just because it was part of their culture, for she had only gone to three of them, throught all the years she had been in Ered Luin. It made her nauseous, how they made it a sport, to the point of not being able to answer Thorin's remarks about her face being green. 

But enough about the animal suffering, it was enough she was in yet another hunt once more. Mithrandir had graced her, finally, and had told her that they should leave in a few days. But not to Erebor, oh no. To the Shire.

_____________________________

Mäetharanel had been taking care of the greens she had cultivated in Dís garden, with the dam's permission. Speaking of her friend, she had called for Mäeth to go inside twice, at least. The silence inside the home meant Kili and Fili had gone out, probably to train with Dwalin, or to their uncle. The quiet environment felt good from time to time, and she sighed, happy.

When she got inside the house, Dís complained about her greens, immediatly. Unlike the elf, who smiled has soon as she picked the vegetables up, after cleaning her hands in the water basinet the dam had on top of the kitchen sink, the red haired woman had made an ugly face. Mäetharanel began lecturing her about how dwarves should consume more vegetables and fruits, and answer, as usual, had been a loud laugh.

Some time later, Dís had made bread with cheese, which Mäeth had gladly taken outside with a cup of fresh milk, when she felt a presence behind her. Calmly, she set the cup and the bread down, did not take her eyes of the book she had been reading, and slowly reached for the dagger she had hidden in her boot. 

So fast she had not been seen, the elf was holding the dagger up to the person's neck, but not for long.

"Mithrandir!?", Mäeth gasped, and put the dagger away from the wizard.

"I see you did not neglect your training, my friend", the wizard regarded her with a big smile, calm despite having had a blade to his neck.

"By the Valar, how glad I am to finally be in your presence!", said the princess while crossing her arms, "You have no idea how greatly I appreciate the fact that you have left me alone in here, for years. How grateful I am that you did not even send a letter!", her sarcasm did not wipe the smile from his face.

"My my, and here I thought you would be able to handle the dwarves on your own!", laughed the Grey.

"Well, I will have you know that we got along quite well", huffed the princess, "What news do you bring, Mithrandir? How is my father? My nephew?", the tall man gently pat her shoulder and sat by her side.

"They are very well. Legolas has grown into a very capable and intelligent elf. Your father spends more time in his home, thanfully. Poor Vendethiel wouldn't be able to handle her worry otherwise!", Mäeth smiled, her Vendethiel... She missed her so much.

"Very well. Now, what brings you here?", she raised an eyebrow.

"I have found the last member of the company", her other eyebrow went up and she drank a bit more of the milk, "It is Bilbo Baggins, a hobbit I hold very close to heart", she nearly spat the milk out.

"A hobbit?", she settled the cup down, Valar help her if she broke Dí's cups, "Gandalf, surely you are jesting?"

"As you know, hobbits are light on their feet and are very capable creatures when it comes to caring for things..."

"I fail to see how bringing an hobbit on the company is going to be good for us. Yes, they may be good with all of that, but they are also gentle", the wizard nodded and let his staff rest against the wall of Dís' home.

"Mäetharanel, Smaug has the jewel of the king", yes, she was well aware of it, "As long as Thorin doesn't hold the Arkenstone, he will not rest for he will never truly be king."

"And you are bringing this Bilbo Baggins with us only with the purpose of possibly killing the creature so Thorin can have a jewel he has been whining about for years?", the wizard sighed.

"He would not do this alone", she snorted and shook her head.

"Certainly not, not under my watch, at least. But no matter how much I disagree with your idea, I take it Thorin already knows of this and has agreed to it?", the man nodded, "of course he has, the fool", Mäetharanel sighed.

"Mäetharanel , there is a lot implied with the Mountain-"

"You think I am not aware of its potential, Mithrandir?", in that moment, Gandalf spoke with Princess Maethäranel , daughter of King Donovan, not with Maethäranel, the elf that lived among the dwarves, "I know of its strategic placement, I understand how its riches are being wanted by many... I know orcs have been lurking around it, only Smaug stops them from taking it", Gandalf faced her but did not speak, "Don't forget how close to the Mountain my father and my grandfather were, how Thranduil did not go there often but always knew what happened. The Lonely Mountain is no stranger to me, I know very well what it may give to whoever has it. But remember, I am in this to merely repay my debt to you."

"I am not so sure of that anymore", smiled the wizard while lightning his pipe.

"What is that supposed to mean?", she looked up at him as he stood up.

"Soon, my dear, you will see", he dusted his clothes, took two deep breaths filled with smoke and gave her a big grin, "Now, I must leave you and be on my way. I merely came here to give Thorin the news and to see how you are."

"Mith-"

---------------------------

Pain took her, and the memory was no more. With wide eyes Mäetharanel came face to face with an orc and her instincts made her defend herself, for the next thing she did was slice it's head.

"We're under attack!", came a dwarf's voice.

"You don't say?", growled the elf as she grabbed her bow and killed another of those thing, "You have the nerve of wounding me!?", and dismountig her mare, she put her bow down and sliced two more with her daggers.

Then, when she had been about to kill two more of them, to unleash all the anger she felt because of them hurting her forest, she was pushed away. Thorin let out a loud war cry and slammed the orcs down to the ground with his hammer. The orc that had hurt her made to slice the dwarf with a dagger, but he sliced it's head off. 

Taking advantage of the fact that the dwarves were attacking their enemies, Mäetharanel leaned against a tree and groaned in pain. They were not many, certainly they could handle them. Taking a deep breath, she took the arrow on her side with a swift pull and a wince. Inspecting the tip, she felt relief when she saw it was not poisoned and cradled her wound that was bleeding.

"For the love of Oromë, what have I done for you to not protect me this time?", the elf breathed out, before reaching for her already dirty dagger. Hurried steps went towards her, so she lifted it and had been about to stand up, but Thorin appeared in front of her, orc blood all over him.

"Stupid elven woman! You were supposed to have heard them before they were on you!", yelled the leader. He went to her, crouched down and grabbed her arm to pull her forward so he could look at her wound.

"Release me, you brute!", she pushed her arm out of his hand and hissed as she craddled it, apparently they had also been able to slice her there. Her white shirt was stained red on her side, her bare arm had claws marked into it, "Hüna orch*..." cursed the princess.

"What good will you be injured?", growled the prince as he angrily grabbed her arm and took the bandage she had just taken from the small bag strapped to her hips, "None", and he began tending to her wounds.

"My deepest aplogies, your majesty", mocked the blue eyed elf as she looked to the side where the dwarves seemed to have calmed down. Thorin finished bandaging the wound and looked at her, but Mäetharanel shook her head.

"I will care for it when we get back to the Blue Mountains, it does not hurt that much", she stood up and dusted her pants, "These are not my first battle wounds and they will not be my last", she turned around, tense, but then, "Thank you, Thorin", and her blue eyes met his and she smiled.

As she walked to the others in front of him, the heir of Durin frowned as he thought how brighter everything would be if the elf smiled more. He quickly shook his head and mounted his pony, the company had strapped the game they had collected to their own ponies and Mäetharanel was settling on her tall horse.

"Everyone should look after their wounds as soon as we return to the mountain", and he turned his back to them and started the march home.

The first thing he did as soon as they got back was growl to Mäetharanel that they were going to Dís, whether she wanted it or not. The elf rolled her eyes, but followed after him. When they arrived, Thorin called for Kili and Fili to take the meat inside, but then the boys decided to go to the elf first, who just pat their heads. 

The fact she was pale did not appease Thorin, at all. The soon to be king grabbed her arm, gently, and walked with her inside Dís' home.

"By Mahal, Mäetharanel! What happened to you!? Thorin Oakenshield!", of course, Dís would yell at him for her friend's injuries. He shook his head as his sister began complaining.

"Dís, need I remind you I have been getting wounded before eiether of you were born?", grumbled the elf, who sat down in a couch.

"Be quiet, you stupid elven woman! You should have heard them MILES away!", Thorin chuckled, and Mäeth frowned. It was frightening how alike the siblings were.

The dwarrowdam tied her hair in a messy bun, as usual, and began fussing around the elf's wound. Mäetharanel smiled and took her shirt off so the woman could have more access. The heir of Durin watched as the wounds disappeared behind the cares of his younger sister. Bandages and oils were put to the other's skin, while the short dam threatned her, and Thorin too, all while caressing the brunette's hand.

Soon, the elf stood up and brought his nephews into her arms. The boys began questioning her about the wound, but she informed them that no orc lived to tell the tale. Thorin felt as he had when battling in Azanulbizar, it was if he had fought Azog once again, for he had the same propose when killing the orc that dared touch Mäetharanel; to avenge. His blood had boiled, his hands were sweating and the only image he kept on his mind until he reached the one who had hurt their elf was the one of her craddling her side. 

Why he had felt the need to avenge her as soon as he heard her gasp, he did not know. He followed after his instincts while watching her fight, despite the pain that certainly was taking her side, for the arrow was still there, but it did not stop her from attacking with sword and bow. While watching her movements, he had thought how his elf was-

"My what?", Thorin brough a hand to his mouth, and frowned. His elf?

He looked at Mäetharanel that was already helping Fili settle the table while keeping conversation with him. How come that from 'their' elf, she was now his? Thorin let his body hit the chair and his head fell into his open palms. Everything that had to do with her brought him problems!

Chapter Text

Through all her life, Mäetharanel had only ever wanted to hurt dwarves. Never did she imagine that she would be living among them, learning more and more about their culture, going as far as to begin getting interested about their secret language. She understood a few words of it, but only the Khuzdul they said in battle. The most colourful words, actually.

Dís and Thorin would mostly speak in Khuzdul whenever they were with other dwarves, which annoyed Mäeth. If someone asked her, it was quite rude to speak in a language not everyone that was present could understand, but it seemed that the majority won, and she was at a disadvantage.

Because she wanted to quench her curiosity, she began wondering about some words and phrases. The one she'd ask about them would usually be Balin, who'd look at her and would try to avoid answering by switching the topic. 

Mäetharanel, who began feeling less trusted, confessed to the dwarf that because they used their language around her, it felt like they meant to hide information from her.

The older Fundinson quickly denied it, and explained what she already knew: Khuzdul was to be spoken among dwarves alone, and it felt like a betrayal to teach her. Despite being sad that he could not teach her, Balin remained faithful to his race. The elf, not giving up easily, decided to ask Thorin and Dís.

"My, the elf wants to learn Khuzdul?", Mäetharanel sighed loudly. Valar help her, she needed patience, "You know our language is only ours, Mäeth", said Dís, almost as if speaking to a child.

"Balin has also refused to teach me, but whenever you are all together you seem to prefer communicating in Khuzdul. I understand practically nothing of it, unless you speak in your war vocabulary", Thorin frowned, "I understand very little of it and am very curious to learn about it. That is all, truly."

"You understand some words?", asked the king-to-be.

"Very few, but yes", she nodded.

"I see no harm in teaching you", the dwarrowdam stared at her brother in shock, "You have been living with us for some time now, it was due to happen", at that moment, Mäetharanel swore that Dís' beard got frizzled.

"Brother? Brother, are you alright? Oh, by Mahal, you must have hit your head! Fili, Kili! Come here!", the boys appeared.

"Yes, amad?", Fili didn't even have his braids done, he had been about to fix himself.

"Did Thorin hit his head while labouring?", they answered with a short 'no', "Oh Mahal, you truly are gone, aren't ya?"

"What's happening? Mäeth?", she chuckled and shook her head.

"It's nothing, go finish your doings, Ki", shrugging, his brother followed him out of the living room, "Is it so shocking that I want to learn?"

"What is shocking is Thorin wanting to teach an elf khuzdul!", Mäetharanel looked down, displeased, and Dís quickly explained, "Oh dear, you know you are more than that to us, but you understand my shock, no?"

"Enough of this, sister, if she wants to learn she will," Thorin nodded and stood up," I'll fetch some books from Balin, he certainly knows which ones will be better for you to translate and learn."

And he had done it, Thorin had grabbed some books and had begun teaching. He'd even read to her! Most books were about their history, which she had been acquainted with, and the more she learned about the dwarven leaders before Thror, the more interesting it got. How they had conquered their lands and how family mattered so much to them, it seemed awfully similar to elves.

In a particular day, Balin had given them a much different book, one that spoke of romance. Among the usual violent ways of affection, so usual among the dwarves, and while being corrected on her speech as she read out loud, a particular word made Mäeth frown.

"The woman glanced at the father of her son and smiled, with a rough voice filled with despair she professed her love to him...", and she raised an eyebrow, "'Amrâlimê'?", whispered the elven lady before looking at Thorin, "What is the meaning of this word?", he stared at her, dumbfounded.

"Do you mock me?", she shook her head ,"You have not heard this word? Not once?"

"No, Thorin", she rolled her eyes, "If you do not remember it, all the books we have borrowed are history related", she grabbed a strand of hair that had fallen from her messily done bun and messed with it, "So? Out with it."

"It means 'my love'", and he said it, looking straight into her eyes. The surrounding air changed, "Go on, out with it", mocked the dwarf.

"No need to be rude", huffed the elf, but the smile on her mouth told him all he needed to know, "My love, I give my all to you", and as she read out loud, her eyes never left his. Every single emotion that passed through Thorin's eyes did not go unnoticed by her, not the pride, the boldness, the care he felt for her... the love.

"You have got much better", said the king to be as he leaned forward, his forehead touching hers.

"I have a very good teacher. Thankfully his knowledge is bigger than his height", Thorin chuckled lowly, their noses rubbed each other. When the elf closed her eyes, Thorin waited a second before kissing her.

There were no fireworks around them, there weren't any butterflies flying around her stomach, and she didn't feel giddy with delight. The second their eyes met, Thorin saw it; her eyes were shining the same way they did whenever she got lost in thought. He immediately felt hurt as the possibility of her being upset about his gesture surfaced inside his mind.

"My apologies", and he backed away from her.

"Don't you dare, Thorin", and there she was, angry and scolding, but how dare she?

"Save it, Mäetharanel", he looked down, visibly upset, "I understand."

"You understand nothing", hissed the elf, "You know nothing."

"Then tell me!", his fist slammed down on the table, "How come you know everything and the only thing I know is your name?! I'm done being in the dark with you", her hand landed on his.

"All in it's due time, Thorin", whispered Mäetharanel, "Give me time, please."

"Hasn't it been enough? Almost ten years of you hiding away!", he was desperate by then, and it amused her the slightest bit. Dwarves weren't very patient creatures, and he had already waited a long time for her to talk.

"No, it hasn't. You must understand that if you don't know yet, it is because I have not made peace with my past, yes?", she nodded, waiting he would do the same, but he did not, "Thorin, you also have a past. You also do not wish to remember certain things... please understand me?"

"Won't you please understand me?", gruffed out the dwarf, and she merely let her head fall against his shoulder, hiding her face on his neck.

"I do, I do amrâlimê... I do."

Chapter Text

The sun rose over the Shire. The Little Rivers and the Rolling Hills had a spectacular orange glue to them, and a peaceful Bilbo Baggins smoke from his pipe, making rings float to the sky. One of them turns into a smoke moth, going to his face and 'pop' it goes, waking the hobbit from his fantasy. Standing in front of him, his a man, a very tall man, wielding a staff, and a pointy hat, equally grey like his clothes. Bilbo looks at him, and decides to salute the man.

"Good morning", said the seemingly startled red head.

"What do you mean?", smiled the wizard, "Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or, perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particularmorning, or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?", the hobbit stared, confused.

"All of them at once, I suppose?", answered the poor Baggins. The wizard, which he supposed the man was, gave him a disappointing look, "I'm sorry, can I help you?"

"That remains to be seen,", answered the other, mysteriously  "I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure," Bilbo's pipe dropped from his mouth.

"An adventure? Now I don't imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner!", Hobbits had always been hungry creatures. Why would he be any different? Standing up from his sitting place, he reached his mailbox and took some mail, pretending to even read anything, he sorted throught them, "Good morning", said he again, before turning his back and beggining to go up the stairs to his house.

"To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took's son as if I were selling buttons at the door...", said the outraged man. At the mencion of his mother, Bilbo whipped around.

"Beg your pardon?", he was awfully chocked, indeed.

"You've changed, and not entirely for the better, Bilbo Baggins", noticed the Gray.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?", the smaller man arched an eyebrow.

"Well, you know my name, although you don't remember I belong to it", it wouldn't be much longer until the hobbit would come to realise the importance of the man infront of him, "I'm Gandalf and Gandalf means me!", and there it was. Recognition travelled through Bilbo's face and smile curled at his lips.

"Not Gandalf, the wandering wizard, who made such excellent fireworks! Old Took used to have them on Mid-Summer's Eve!", Bilbo excitedly spoke of the fireworks, everyone loved those, "I had no idea you were still in business."

"And where else should I be?"

"Well...", he smoked from his pipe, sheepish.

"Well, I'm pleased to find you remember something about me, even if it's only my fireworks", he nodded as if he had concluded some very important thing, "Well then, that's decided. It will be very good for you and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others", Bilbo paled.

"Inform the who? What? No, no, no!", the hobbit recoiled further closer to his home, to Bag End, "We do not want any adventures here, thank you! Not today! I suggest you try somewhere over the hill or across the water! Good morning!", and in he went, a furious hurricane. 

Gandalf did not let the reaction bother him or his propose. Wlaking towards the house, he grabbed his staff and started branding the door with a glowing rune. A sudden scraping noise made Bilbo stiffen, his earing senses suddenly sharpened, his figure ran to the window, and while peering through it, an eye met his and startled him. Going away, it proved to be Gandalf, who turned his back to his home and went away, away from Bag End, probably from The Shire also. 

"We will be going where now?", asked the elf, suprised. So far away, to where?

"Hobbiton, the Shire", answered Thorin.

"For Valar's sake... Could we not go further away?", groaned Maeth before leaning back against the sofa. She was exhausted after travelling all the way fro the Blue Mountains to North; only for them to receive a 'no' from Thorin's kin.

"Gandalf wishes us to go there so we may meet the last memeber of the quest", he had been walking around the living room, strangely calm, "It is a hobbit."

"They certainly are, my love. Going to Hobbiton can only mean that", chuckled the elf before standing up, putting her hands on her hips and leaning forward, popping her back, "What do you think of that?"

"I think we could not have a more incompetent member coming from such a race", Her eyes showed shock, "But we shall have a surprise, I'm sure."

"Mithrandir would not put the quest at risk, my hammelekh*", she tried to ease his mind, "There is too much at risk..."

"Are you trying to calm me, or yourself?", his eyes met hers and he saw the truth, "Be at ease, I am trusting his word. But be certain that should anything go south, consequences will be given."

"As they should."

It is night in The Shire. Bilbo was just about to sit down and enjoy his fishes he had just grilled but his doorbell rang and he slowly turned to look towards the direction of his door, frowning surprised. Opening his door, he his met with a taller person than him, his head bald, his body well trained, and hwn he turned around Bilbo's theory that it might have been a dwarf came true. The dwarven man bowed down.

"Dwalin, at your service", the Baggins stiffened and quickly fixed his appearence byt tying his robes together and fixing his posture to seem taller.

"Bilbo Baggins, at yours", Dwalin, as he called himself, stepped inside his hom, "Sorry, do we know each other?"

"No", he answered kind of gruffly, "Which way laddie? Is it down here?"

"Is what down where?", Bilbo was genuinly confused, what was this dwarf doing in his home and what did he want from him? And had he just thrown his coat at Bilbo!?

"Supper. He said there'd be food, and lots of it", then, as if he were in his own home, he went down the corridor of Bilbo's home and looked around.

"He said? Who said?", poor hobbit was lost. Inside his own home.

Dwalin sat where Bilbo had been before his doorbell rang. Eating his fish. In a most disgusting way. Worse than that was the fact that he cleaned his hands on his beard, completely neglecting the napkin in the table.

"Very good, this. Any more?" Bilbo shook his head, getting out of his stupor.

"What? Oh, yes." looking around, his eye met with a plate of biscuits, which he presented to Dwalin. The dwarf didn't even pick them up one by one, he merely grasped the most of them and stuffed them inside his mouth, "It's just that I wasn't expecting company", Perfect timing for his doorbell to ring again, eh?

"That'll be the door", Dwalin stared at him, grease covering his beard.

Bilbo answers the door and to his shock, there is another dwarf at his door, an older one than the other sitting at his table. This one seems much nicer, however.

"Balin, at your service", bowed the new person.

"Good evening", Bilbo was wondering what he had done in his life for such a thing to be happening.

"Yes, yes, it is", Balin looked up towards the sky and gave it a thougtful look, "Though, I think it might rain later. Am I late?"

"Late for what?", just what were those dwarves doing in his home!?

"Oh! Evening brother!", Inside Bag End, the first dwarf, Dwalin, stood in his kitchen trying to steal more of his biscuits. Upon hearing the others voice, he stopped, glanced at their way and smirked while approaching.

"By my beard, you are shorter and wider than last we met", noted the warrior.

"Wider, not shorter. But sharp enough for the both of us", winked Balin. Dwalin laughed, grasped his brothers shoulders and, to Bilbo's shock, slammed his forehead against the others. 

The two proceed to go 

inside his pantry and help themselves to his food and his ale. When poor Bilbo goes inside, Balin urges his younger brother to fill his glass with more ale than the other had previously given him. 

"It's not that I don't like visitors, I like visitors as much as the next hobbit. But I do like to know them before they come visiting", Bilbo was beggining to get a bit aggravated by the situation, "The thing is, I don't know any of you. Not in the slightest. I don't mean to be blunt, but I had to speak my mind. I'm sorry", the dwarves paused and stared at him.

"Apology accepted", answered Balin, and then there goes the damn doorbell again.

Bilbo stared at his door in shock. Upon opening the door, two young dwarves stood there; one blonde, his beard well arranged and bearing the air of a warrior, the other, a brunette, beardless, eyes filled with mischief and a smile plastered in his face.

"Fili."

"And Kili."

"At your service", said both of them, at the same time, bowing respectfully.

"You must be Mister Boggins!", said Kili excitedly. Now, first of all, four dwarves appear out of nowhere, at his door, completely unexpectedly, and now they egt his name wrong? Oh no, Bilbo Baggins didn't have to tolerate this.

"Nope, you can't come in, you've come to the wrong house", and he made to close the door, but the beardless one stopped him.

"Has it been cancelled?"

"No one told us!", Bilbo's frown deepened

"Cancelled? No, nothing's been cancelled!"

"That's a relief!", young Kili barged inside. Then Fili came after him and both unloaded their weapons onto Bilbo.

"Careful with these, we just had them sharpened", Kili admired the arquitecture of Bag End while his brother gave the warning.

"It's nice, this place. Did you do it yourself?", asked Kili.

"No, it's been in the family for years", answered Bilbo. Then, the dwarf had the nerve to scrape the mud off his boots in his mothers glory box!

"That's my mother's gloxry box, could you please not do that?", oh, he could already feel the headache coming. And inside came Dwalin.

"Fili, Kili, c'mon! Give us a hand!" the taller dwarf put an arm around Kili and directed the new arrivals to the kitchen.

"Mister Dwalin!", answered Kili with glee. Bilbo followed them inside.

"Let's shove this in the hallway, otherwise we'll never get everyone in", that only worsened Bilbo's panic. What did Dwalin eman by 'everyone'?

"Everyone? How many more are there?"

"Not many", answered the oldest in the house. Then, the cursed doorbeel rang. Again. The hobbit had enough, and stomped to the hallway, throwing the dwarves weapons somewhere in his hallway, he let his rage out.

"No! There's nobody home! Go away and bother somebody else! There's far too many dwarves in my diningroom as it is", he waved his finger in the air, "If this is some clotterd's idea of a joke", a dry laugh left his mouth, "I canonly say that it is in very poor taste", and then he threw the door open and five more dwarves fell into his home, followed by Gandalf the Grey who stood behind them.

"Gandalf?", said Bilbo, shocked.

Back to Mäethranael and Thorin, they were lost. In Hobbiton. The elf sighed for the tenth time in the past half an hour, and the dwarf ignored her once again. 

"Had you asked Gandalf for more information we would not be lost", grumbled out the woman as she raided by his side, "or perhaps if you had asked the other's we've raided by, we would already be there", he raised an eyebrow and glanced at her.

"I did not stop you from asking them", and she blinked, breathed in through her nose and closed her eyes.

"By the Valar, if the quest doesn't kill you, I will", and his booming laughter sounded all around them.

"I was merely stating a fact!", no matter how good it was to hear him laugh, it still struck a nerve, so she stopped the smile appearing on her mouth.

"Whatever you say, Oakenshield", and she made her mare race forward, away from him.

Back in Bag End, the dwarves had truly raided Bilbo's pantry. Cheese, meat, wine, vegetables, fruit... everything he had was being used by them. They were going from his pantry to his dining room and there he stood, in the middle, trying to keep anything there or to himself.

"Excuse me, that's my chicken! Oh, not my wine! Put that back! Put that back!", demanded the hobbit, to no vail.  Soon, Gloin passes by him with three big cheeeses, "That's a td excessive, don't you think? Do you have a cheese knife?"

"Cheese knife? He eats them by the whole", answered Fili and Bilbo merely stared until Oin came into his view with his grandpa's chairs.

"No, that's Grandpa Mungo's chair!", the other held his cone to his ear.

"What? I can't hear what you're saying laddie", then he breaks free from Bilbo and resumes his way to the dining room where he sets the chairs next to Gandalf.

"Excuse me, Gandalf, may I tempt you with a cup of chamomile tea?", asked Ori, while holding a tea set.

"Oh, no thank you, Oin. A little red wine for me, I think", and there he went. Gandalf stood up and went to the doorway, "Fili, Kili, Bofur, Bifur, Oin, Gloin, Dori, Nori, Ori, Balin and Dwalin...  We appear to be one dwarf short," their king was still missing. Dwalin, whom was leaned against a corner with ale in his hand reassured him.

"He is late, is all. He travelled North to a meeting of our kin. He will come",  there came Oin with his cup of wine.

"There you go, as you requested, a glass of red wine. It has got a fruity bouquet", smiled the other as gandalf took it.

"Cheers!", and has he finished the glass, his face showed contentment.

With Thorin, everything was doing well. Maethäranel had already forgiven him and they were silently riding by the Shires roads. 

"What do you expect we will find there?", asked the king.

"Certainly a small, cozy home. With plenty of food and a welcoming host that will be on his wit's end with your family and our friends, no doubt!", Thorin nodded, for he knew it was true, "I just hope he understands they mean good."

"Do you believe the wizard would find us a stupid hobbit?", Upon the elf's look of reprimand, the dwarven king shrugged his shoulders, "I could not find a better way to ask this."

"No, Thorin, I assure you the poor hobbit won't be stupid. Gruff bastard...", and there she went, upset once again.

"Let us find that door", still, an 'aye' he received. They both knew she wouldn't be upset for long.

Their hobbit was at his wits end, indeed. The dwarves were sat in his dining room, feasting like animals, speaking loudly and singing and making him go insane! In the middle of them, Gandalf sat calmly and watching the scenes.

"Gloin! Catch!", Fili throws bread to Gloin that successfully caught it, FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROOM! Despite Bilbo's shock, the others applauded and cheered loudly. Going inside his pantry, he found nothing, it was completely empty! Kili walked inside the kitchen while cleaning his mouth with a doily and Bilbo was sure he was about to pass out.

"But it's full of holes," noted Fili.

"It's supposed to look like that, it's crochet", answered dear Bilbo, already giving up.

"Oh, and a wonderful game it is too, if you've got the balls for it", Fili smirked and Kili threw himself at his brother, laughing at his jest. Bilbo turned around, furious.

"Bebother and confusticate these dwarves!", cursed the Baggins while throwing the cloth to the table and banging his fists on it.

"My dear Bilbo, what on earth is the matter?", Gandalf ventured inside the kitchen, worried for their hobbit.

"What's the matter? I'm surrounded by dwarves! What are they doing here?", Kili and Fili grabbed a sausage and Gandalf watched amused while they each grabbed an end.

"They're quite a merry gathering, once you get used to them", Bilbo groaned, frustrated.

"I don't want to get used to them!", and the wizard followed him out the kitchen into the hallway.

His rug was filled with mud, the dining rrom was certainly absolutely filthy and his poor, poor bathroom...

"There's mud trod into the carpet, they've pillaged the pantry! I'm not even going to tell you what they've done in the bathroom; they've all but destroyed the plumbing! I don't understand what they're doing in my house!", complained the ginger and Gandalf heard and nodded. Ori approached them while holding a plate.

"Sorry, I hate to interrupt," the dear was shy as he spoke, "but where would you like me to put my plate?", Fili entered the hallway.

"Here Dori, give it to me", and he did. With the plate in his hand, Fili threw hit to Kiliwho grabbed it and threw it to the kitchen where Bifur stood by the sink, washing whatever was thrown at him. Bilbo watched, wide eyed.

"Excuse me, that's my mother's West Farthing crokery, IT'S OVER A HUNDRED YEARS OLD!", in his panic, his voice rose, but he was ignored and the cycle continued, so as he heard scraping and beating he went to investigate, only to find Dwalin and Gloin rhytmically drumming on the table with the eating utensils, "Could you please not do that? You'll blunt them!" Dwalin smirked.

"Hear that lads? He says we'll blunt the knives!"

"Blunt the knives, bend the forks!", sang Kili

"Smash the bottles and crack the plates!", sang the dwarves in unison, and after a pause, "That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!", laughed all of them, while the dish utensils throwing kept going, "Cut the cloth, tread on fat! Leave the bones on the bedroom mat! Pour the milk on the pantry floor, splash the wine on every door! Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl, pound them up with a thumping pole! When you're finished, if they are whole, send them down the hall to roll!", Bilbo frantically rushed around his home; he was about to have a nervous breakdown, "That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!", then he walked inside the dining room, only to find a pleasant surpise: the dishes were staked neatly, cleaned. The dwarves loud laughter stopped after a loud knock was heard.

"He is here", the room ambience completely changed.

* - my king

Chapter Text

The door opens and there are Thorin and Maethäranel, the latter looked rather grumpy while the dwarf looked smug.

"Gandalf, I thought you said this place would be easy to find", the king marched inside and the elf ducked right behind him, looked around the house and went to Gandalf's side, "I lost my way, twice. I wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door", The dwarves bowed down to their king, and Bilbo, who had been mesmerized by the presence of an elf inside his home, suddenly came back to earth.

"Mark? There's no mark on that door, it was painted a week ago!"

"There is a mark; I put it there myself", Maeth snorted at Bilbo's face, the halfling was a big entertainment already, "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield", Thorin looked him up and down and stepped towards him. Judging Bilbo.

"So, this is the hobbit", the woman sat down and Fili and Kili immediatly went to each of her sides, the blonde much closer than his brother, "Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?"

"And there he goes", Maethäranel couldn't help but roll her eyes, "Must he frighten the poor thing? He is evil, that uncle of yours."

"Pardon me?", the ginger raised an eyebrow. Fight? Him? Ah!

"Axe or sword? What is your weapon of choice?" Oakenshield kept on walking around him and the hobbit arranjed his posture.

"It's quite hot in here, isn't it Kili?", looking at her, the dwarf quickly shook his head and went to another division, no doubt to search for something so Maeth could refresh herself.

"Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know, but I fail to see why that's relevant", the dwarf crossed his arms. What did he want? Bilbo was not about to be bullied, inside his own home no less!

"Thought as much", Thorin smirked, and looked back at his family, "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar", the dwarves laughed and the elf gave them a reproving look while waving herself with a book Kili had given her, but their leader's warm smile would never matter less than her look. Thorin walked inside and everyone followed.

Everyone sat around the table, curious to hear what their king had brought.

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?", asked Balin, and their elf couldn't help but smile. Of course he'd be the one to worry about what was truly important.

"Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms", everyone murmured, excited. A pity the latter two didn't feel as delighted as the others.

"What did the dwarves of the Iron Hills say?", Dwalin had a smile in his face, "Is Dain with us?", oh, if he would be... Maethäranel smirked upon remembering the lord's outburst as soon as she appeared, mere moments after Thorin

"What's that thing doing here!?", he had said.

"Maethäranel is my One, cousin, and you will respect her", Thorin had defended her, but she wasn't known to be quiet when insulted. 

"A pleasure to make your acquitance, lord Dain", and of course, he had glared, he had no care for Thorin's words, "Perhaps you could show me around here later? It seems I have a different effect in you, and it interests me so...", and the color in his face had rivaled his hair, he had tried to answer but all that came from his mouth were stuters, from how angry he had been.

"They will not come", answered Thorin after a brief pause, with a frown. Everyone gasped and showed their disappointment, "They say this quest is ours and ours alone."

"You cannot blame them, omril", her hand was on top of his, and Bilbo, who had brought food for them, looked at their joined hands in shock. Were they..? Could it be that..!? Shaking his head, he asked what was important.

"You're going on a quest?", Gandalf gently pat his shoulder

"Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light", and he did. Bringing a candle, he set it down near the Grey and watched as the other pulled out a map.

"Far to the east, over ranges andrivers, beyond woodlands andwastelands, lies a single solitary peak", and he pointed at said peak. Bilbo recognized it very well.

"The Lonely Mountain?", there was an image of Smaug drawn in it, one the elf glared at.

"Aye! Oin has read the portents and the portents say it is time", said Gloin with finality. Everyone groaned, that story again? Ugh. Maethäranel merely crossed on leg over the other, amused at their reaction, and Oin nodded.

"Ravens have been seen flying backto the mountain as it was foretold:when the birds of yore return toErebor, the reign of the beast willend", but their hobbit didn't seem to know the story, and glanced at them, confused.

"Uh, what beast?", Bofur seemed more than ready to enlighten him. 

"Well, that would be a reference toSmaug the Terrible, chiefest andgreatest calamity of our age", he looked around with his smoking pipe in hand, "Airborne fire-breather, teeth likerazors, claws like meathooks.Extremely fond of precious metals", he said it as if it was the most obvious thing.

"Yes, I know what a dragon is", smiled Bilbo, ironically. Ori stood up, determined.

"I'm not afraid. I'm up for it!", Maeth smiled gently, oh Ori, such a sweet boy, "I'll give him a taste of Dwarvish iron, right up his jacksie!" Dori looked at Nori, desperate, but his brother was finding their youngest's speech very funny.

"Good lad, Ori!" said one of them.

"Sit down," and there was Dori, making him sit and giving him a look of reproval.

"The task to win back the mountainwould be difficult enough with anarmy behind us", Balin looked at each one of them, "But we number just fourteen, and not fourteen of the best... nor brightest", well, that was just unnecessary, "Excuse me, Maethäranel dear", everyone protested, but the elf smiled.

"We may be few in number...", Fili let his fist down on the table, "but we're fighters. All of us, to the last dwarf!", by Maethäranel's side, Thorin was way too quiet.

"And you forget, we have a wizard inour company!", Kili smiled brightly, always the light among the dark, "Gandalf must have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!"

"Well, no, I wouldn't say that I -", Gandalf seemed rather hampered.

"How many then?", interrupted Dori. The elf raised an eyebrow, where were those manners he always spoke of?

"What?", Gandalf seemed to have stopped in time.

"Well, how many dragons have you killed?", specified the eldest brother of the Is. Gandalf merely took a large drag of his pipe and coughed on his pipe smoke, embarassed, "Go on, give us a number". and everyone stood up, and there was noise everywhere. 

"Excuse me. Please", Bilbo had tried to be heard, but to no vail. Maeth frowned, and had been about to stand up and telling them to quiet down, but her Thorin beat her to it.

"Shazara!", shouted the king, and everyone calmed immeadiatly, "If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too?", he galred around the table, daring anyone to answer, "Rumours have begun to spread", Oin put his ear trumpet to his ear so he could listen, "The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk", Maethäranel knew better than anyone how true those words were, even her Ada had thought of it, in the past, "Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back as others claim what is rightfully ours?", his stare had gone more gentle, but his words still weighed, "Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?", putting his fist forward, his voice got louder with enthusiasm, "Du bekar! Du bekar!", shouted her lover. Inspired by Thorin's speech, the dwarves stood up once more and cheered. Evryone but one dwarf.

"You forget, the front gate is sealed", Balin killed the mood, and everyone sat down once more, "There is no way into the mountain".

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true," suddenly and out of nowhere, Gandalf played with a key between his fingers.

"Mithrandir?", Maethäranel had sat straight, shocked.

"How came you by this?", Thorin was mesmerized. That key was their only hope to get inside Erebor.

"It was given to me by your father", Bilbo stared at the interaction happening in front of him, confused, "By Thrain. For safekeeping", Thorin's eyes met his, and Gandalf nodded, "It is yours now", and with the key in his hand, Maethäranel saw the shock grow into hope inside everyone's eyes.

"If there is a key...", wondered Fili, "There must be a door".

"The runes in the map Gandalf holds speak of a hidden passage to the Lower Halls of the kigdom", everyone turned to look at the she-elf and she looked right back at them, "What?"

"There's another way in", said Kili, while touching his brother's back with a big smile.

"Well, if we can find it, but Dwarf doors are invisible when closed", Mithrandir sighed and pointed towards the map, repeatdly, The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map... and I do not have the skill to find it", all eyes turned to the elf but she quickly shook her head.

"Don't get your hopes up, I might be able to read the runes, but I am no especialist with maps that have hidden meanings", Gandalf smiled at her before resuming his speech.

"But there are other in Middle-earth who can", Thorin slowly turned to look at the wizard, "The task I have in mind willrequire a great deal of stealth,and no small amount of courage", the wizard looked at Bilbo who looked right back at him, not understanding where he entered in all of this, "But, if we are careful and clever,I believe that it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar", concluded dear Ori.

"Hmm. And a good one too", said Bilbo, and their elf snorted, "An expert, I'd imagine", the woman couldn't hold herself anymore and laughed quietly.

"And are you?", asked Glóin. Bilbo kept on looking at the table, but then he understood the question had been directed in his way. Looking behind himself, he saw no one, so the question could only have been made towards him.

"Am I what?", asked the hobbit, while holding his suspenders.

"He said he's an expert. He-hey!", cheered Óin, and everyone laughed.

"Me? No, no, no. I-I'm not a burglar", Bilb o quickly denied it, "I've never stolen a thing in my life."

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr.Baggins", Balin acessed him, "He's hardly burglar material."

"Nope", nodded the ginger.

"Aye, the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves", even Dwalin agreed. Bilbo nodded, desperate,but their wizard was beggining to lose his temper.

"He's just fine", said Ori, and they all began chatting about the matter.

"Enough!", Gandalf stood up, and a dark shadow appeared behind him, "If I say Bilbo Baggins is aburglar, then a burglar he is", Bilbo stepped back, as did the other dwarves, "Hobbits are remarkably light ontheir feet! In fact, they can not be seen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf", explained the Gray, "the scent of a hobbit is all but unknown to him which gives us a distinct advantage", poor Bilbo had tried to answer, but went quiet, "You asked me to find the fifteenth member of this company and I have chosen Mr. Baggins", said Gandalf to Thorin, "There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he's got a great deal to offer than any of you know", Thorin looked down, and the others didn't seem so convinced, "including himself", the wizard looked at Bilbo whom looked at him, surprised, "You must trust me on this."

"Very well", Maethäranel lifted her hand from Thorin's shoulder as soon as he answered, "We will do it your way."

"No, no", Bilbo panicked and looked at Gandalf and back at Thorin.

"Give him the contract."

"We're in. We're off", Bofur seemed pleased with the situation.

"It's just the usual", Balin stood up and handed him the said contract, "summary of out of pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements and so forth", Thorin grabbed the contract from the others hand and put it to Bilbo's chest.

"Funeral arrangements?", Bilbo relunctaly took the piece of paper.

"Oh, my poor halfling", Maeth shook her head and leaned into Thorin when he got near her.

"What has that water of yours told you?", whispered the king.

"All in it's due time, just trust me for now", he rolled his eyes but sat back.

Bilbo stepped into another part of the house and unrolled the scroll, which fell into the ground. Looking at the sized of the paper, he quickly started reading it out loud, the elf stood up and walked around, her back hurt from being sat for so long. Thorin neared Gandalf and whispered to him.

"I cannot guarantee his safety."

"Understood", answered the wizard with a somber look.

"Nor will I be responsible for his fate", Thorin wanted nothing to do with the halfling.

"Agreed", answered Gandalf, after a moment of hesitation. 

"Terms: cash on delivery, up to, but not exceeding one eighth of total profit, if any", Bilbo nodded and turned around to glance another way, with a satisfied nod,"Hmm. Seems fair. Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as aconsequence there of, including, but not limited to - lacerations? Evisceration?", Maethäranel stopped walking and turned to look at the small man, it was certainly beggining to be too much for him, "Incineration?", asked Bilbo while looking at them, in desbelief.

"Oh, aye", answered Bofur, "he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye", bringing the paper together, the hobbit was beggining to get more and more pale while he looked up and around. Finally, he looked down and laughed, but his face didn't seem happy.

"Bilbo? Are you alright?", Maeth got near him, with a worried look.

"Huh? Yeah", he flexed his knees and put his hands on his shoulders, then he quickly breathed out three times, "Feel a bit faint."

"Gandalf, he'll faint", Maeth merely sat down, how come her back still hurt? Must be the weight of holding all of the company together, who knows?

"Think furnace, with wings", Bofur never knew when to keep quiet, did he? Of course he didn't.

"Air, I-I-I need air", said Bilbo while holding his side.

"Flash of light, searing pain, then poof. You're nothing more than a pile of ash", yes, that was enough.

"Bofur, be-", but he didn't even wait for the elf to finish her scolding.

"Hmm", her eyes faced his stance, and as he took a breath, "Nope", there he was, unconscious.

"Oh, very helpful, Bofur", Thorin shook his head, and as Maethäranel passed by Bofur in the entrance, she smacked the back of his neck before helping with the hobbit.

Soon, he had woken up and had taken the wet cloth Maeth had put in his forehead in the table besides the sofa Gandalf had sat him in. Giving him a bit of tea, she sat back down in the table.

"Maeth, how was the trip to here? Found a lot of new things?", asked Kili.

"You mean besides your uncle's fabulous sense of orientation? No dear, nothing new", Fili started massaging her shoulders and she immeadiatly leaned against his hands.

"Here, you seem very tense", how did he know the perfect strength to apply? Oh, she loved these little creatures.

"I am a Baggins, of Bag End!", came Bilbo's shaking voice.

"You are also a Took!", of course Gandalf always had answers. The wizard proceed on telling the hobbit things he already knew about an uncle he had. Bilbo did caught him getting a bit carried away, but Gandalf always had a way to get through trouble, "Well, all good stories deserveembellishment. You'll have a taleor two to tell of your own when youcome back."

Similar things had happened to Maethäranel, mostly comparing her with Vilissë, sometimes even with her mother, the Queen. However, she couldn't answer back, not to everyone, like the hobbit had done. It was always 'be more like your sister, so elegant, so diplomatic!', never 'you're doing great Maeth, but perhaps you could do even better'... she swore her children would not go through something like that, never. 

"Can you promise me I'll be back?", he couldn't, and if he did she would immediatly intervene.

"No, and if you do, you will not be the same", none of them would. 

"That's what I thought. I'm sorry,Gandalf, but I can't sign this. You've got the wrong hobbit", the elven princess turned to look at the room where Bilbo was leaving Mithrandir on his own. A smile took her features, she knew they would leave Bag End and the Shire with everyone. 

Balin and Thorin stood in the hallway, also listening to the conversation the two had. 

"It appears we have lost our burglar. Probably for the best", Balin seemed defeated, already "The odds were always against us. Afterall, what are we? Merchants,miners, tinkers, toy-makers; hardlythe stuff of legend", Thorin turned his glance to the older dwarf, and gave him a look of amusement.

"There are a few warriors amongst us", Balin looked at him as if he had been joking.

"Old warriors", declared the Fundinson.

"I will take each and every one ofthese dwarves over an army from theIron Hills", he felt betrayed, hurt and left for dead, "For when I called upon them, they came. Loyalty, honor, a willing heart; I can ask no morethan that", spoken like a true king, Thorin believed his kin; they had done a lot with less resources.

"You don't have to do this. You have a choice", Balin had tried to reason with him many times, Maethäranel had always remained by his side, even if she was always standing next to the dwarf king. She too knew of the madness that the quest could turn to, "You've done honorably by our people. You have built us a new life for us in the Blue Mountains, a life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor."

"From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me", Thorin held the dwarven key in his hand, "They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me", 

"Then we are with you, laddie. We'll see it done", Balin pat his shoulder, there was no going back from this, not for him, and therefore not for them. They turned to walk into the living room, where all the dwarves were. Maethäranel stood in a corner, something unusual of her, thinking, observing and assessing, possibly. 

Thorin took his pipe out and lightned it, the dwarves started to hum, and soon the king began singing a somber tone. The song was about the Mountain, about missing their home, about the quest that they had to endure to regain what was theirs. In between lines, the elven lady also heard about the weeping widows, the crying children, some orphans, some with crippled parents or only with one to put them to sleep in the afterdays when Smaug had attacked, some on the verge of death. They would leave in the morrow, the smell of smoke and the sound of dying trees sorrounding them along with the red sky, much like in that day. 

In his room, Bilbo heard the sad tune the dwarves sang all together while staring at his fireplace. Many thoughts crossed his troubled mind, eventually making him fall into a restless slumber. He would wake up with his home as if no one had been there.

They had all left earlier, Mithrandir, Maeth and the dwarves, without their burglar. With their ponies and horses taking their luggage, they spoke in high spirits, until...

"WAIT!", Bilbo rushed down the dirt road, huffing and puffing as soon as he reached them, "W...Wait", Gandalf and the dwarves stopped their horses and turnto see Bilbo. He waved the contract above his head,grinning, "I signed it!", and he handed it over to Balin who smiled at him and carefully inspected the contract with a pair of eyeglasses.

"Everything appears to be in order. Welcome Master Baggins, to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield", and they applauded him, dryly.

"Give him a pony", said Thorin, an inddiferent tone in his voice.

"No, no, that won't be necessary,I'm sure I can keep up on foot", Bilbo quickly shook both his head and his hands, "I've done my fair share of walking holidays, you know. I even got as far as Frogmorton once", but his accomplishment fell on deaf ears, for two of them had taken him in arms and put him on a pony anyway. His face scrunch up after a bit, "Oh, all the horse hair. I'm having a reacction", and as he reached inside his pockets, "Wait! Wait! Stop! We have to turn around", they all halt and turn to look at him, Maethäranel snorts and Gandalf goes to him.

"My dear Bilbo, what on earth is the matter?"

"I forgot my handkerchief!"

"Here, use this!", Fili had teared a bit of his shirt and threw it to the hobbit, who stared at it in disgust.

"Move on!", ordered their leader, and they did, laughing at the scene.

Amongst rain and the tall trees of the forest, Gandalf had answered their questions about how he could not change the weather or how there were four more wizards. Upon mentioning Radagast, Maethäranel smiled.

"Dear Radagast", said the princess with a smile, "He is quite an extraordinary being, if I say so."

"He certainly is", Gandalf nodded, "He's a gently soul who prefers the company of animals to others."

"As he sh-", a sudden pain made her stop talking, and Thorin approached her horse, "It is fine my King, it will pass", but she knew it wouldn't, it had been hurting for awhile now, "It will pass...", repeated she, as her stare turned towards the direction of Greenwood. 

Speaking of which, the brown wizard that had been running across the forest came upon a sad sight: a plant, black and dying,when it should be green and living. Going towards his house, Radagast watched the scenary around his home, all the plants were dying and the animals had fled. The wizard whistled, and a flock of birds came flying to him, only to settle in the nest he had beneath his hat. Looking around, he didn't feel safe, this wasn't his natural environment and when he looked down, panic took him.

"Sebastian! Good gracious!", his hedgehog friend was on the ground, weeping, dying. Running inside his home, he puts the tiny creature down and immeadiatly begins to try and bring him back to life. More hedgehogs near their own and Radagast urges them to "Move back! Give him some air, forgoodness sake!" they get away, and he goes back to trying and bringing his friend back, but frustration takes him, "I don't understand why it's notworking! It's not as if it'switchcraft!" and his face fell, what was once worry turned into complete seriousness and he looked down towards Sebastian, "Witchcraft. But it is; a dark andpowerful magic."

Giant spiders began crawling outside and going up his home. Radagast watched them and quickly tried to barr his home, but stopped when Sebastian took his last breath and died. With tears in his eyes and a broken heart, the wizard took a blue stone from his staff and brought his dead friend to his chest. Leaning against a trunk in his house, he began whispering a spell after putting the stone to the snout of Sebastian, who, after the spell grew more powerful and the blue stone turned black, gasped for air. Smilling down at his friend, Radagast felt relief, and his house that had turned dark, began taking it's colors back, the spiders were going away from them too. 

"Where have those foul creatures come from?", he watched one of them leaving into the forest. He knew a certain princess might be getting not so good feelings about this.

Chapter Text

The dwarf king had ordered for them to settle there for the night. While Fili and Kili were far away from them, Oin and Gloin were preparing supper and Gandalf had indulged in conversation with Thorin. 

"I think it would be wiser to move on. We could make for the Hidden Valley", the shorter being sighed, annoyed.

"I have told you already, I will not go near that place", Maetharänel frowned. She would never excuse what happened in the Mountain all those years ago, but Thorin was being fussy for nothing. Imladris is the house of Elrond, and the Lady Galadriel watches over it as well, Thranduil had no business there, they wouldn't even cross paths. 

"Why not? The elves could help us! We could get food, rest, advice", sighing, the elven lady faced Mithrandir and shook her head. It was of no use. 

"I do not need their advice", spat the dwarf. She knew him and most importantly she understood those words came from pain. It was a miracle he had accepted her in his home, for they developed a bond. Speaking to her kin was not something Maeth had ever brought up, at least not when it came to both of them.

"We have a map we cannot read; Lord Elrond will help us", Thorin would've laughed drily if he was her, but he did not. Rage consumed him in a second.

"Help? A dragon attacks Erebor, what help came from the elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls, and the elves looked on and did nothing", he spoke though gritted teeth, "You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather and betrayed my father?"

"You are neither of them. And besides, it was not Lord Elrond who abandoned you at Erebor. That blame lies with King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm", their discussion was escalating quickly, much too quickly for her liking, "I did not give you that map and key for you to hold onto the past."

"I did not know they were yours to keep", Gandalf scowled at him and went away. Bilbo passes by him and questions where he is going, but the wizard just yelled something and resumed his way with angry steps.

"Thorin...", he immediately faced her with anger in his eyes, and she glared, "Don't you dare look at me like that. Hear me first", he breathed out through his nose and sat down by her side, "Gandalf means well, you know he does. What we are doing is no easy task, our journey is not a pleasant one. He merely seeks help to those things we cannot decipher. Can you blame him?", he seemed to be thinking, and his shoulders became more relaxed, "You must start seeing things from the perspective of others. He never meant to insult you or give you bad advice; he just doesn't know how to read that map, and he has no obligation to do so. In order to complete the task as swiftly as possible, he meant to reach out to Elrond, who has nothing to do with Thranduil. I assure you, my love", she caressed his big hand, and he grasped hers, "If you do not with to seek for their help, then don't. However, this will take us some more time."

Thorin had stood up without giving an answer, but she knew he was thinking about it. He wouldn't ask the elves for help, by the Valar, he practically did not ask Maetharänel for help, much less someone from the outside. That was something that would not change, and she understood the trauma that made him like that. Apart from the situation at hand, others began assaulting her mind, and things she had noticed made it even worse. When they passed by water, it would become restless, and sometimes it would even leave its body and splash the horse she had mounted. It was obviously calling her attention, and she did not want it to, no. Thorin had questioned her, but she had dismissed it as something unusual that she did not understand, but she did; the Greenwood or her home were not well. 

"He's been a long time", said dear Bilbo, and she looked up at him.

"Who?" asked Dwalin as he filled two bowls with fresh soup.

"Gandalf", cleared the hobbit. 

"He's a wizard, he does as he chooses", he handed the bowls to Bilbo who stared at him with worry, "Here, do us a favour: take these to the lads", and he did. The leader of the company had already finished dinning and sat beside her.

Thorin had nestled the elf into his arms as she shook. He had not spoken to her until he sensed distress consuming her, and currently he caressed her hair and whispered questions to whom she didn't feel capable of giving answer to. Her nephew wouldn't leave her mind, had he tried to understand why she left? And her father, was he well? Even Fili and Kili were beginning to haunt her thoughts, and they were relatively near. She began to breathe in and out rhythmically to calm down, and just as she got it, Thorin spoke loudly to Dwalin and she jumped.

"Maetharänel?"

"By the Valar Thorin, speak more quietly", he raised an eyebrow, and she sighed, "Go see Fili and Kili, please. Bilbo is taking too long!"

And for a good reason; some ponies were gone. Bilbo had found the young dwarven princes staring at the ponies, terrified and clueless. 

"What's the matter?"

"We're supposed to be looking after the ponies", well, yes, that made sense to Bilbo. They were supposed to, just like Kili had said.

"Only, we've encountered a slight problem", what did Fili mean by that? Everything seemed alright. 

"We had sixteen. Now, we have only fourteen now", Bilbo went pale and began counting. Fili himself seemed to be counting them, as if he needed to make sure of what his brother had said, and indeed, two ponies were missing. 

"Daisy and Bungo are missing," says Kili.

"Well, that's not good. That is not good at all. Shouldn't we tell Thorin?", asks the small hobbit, while still holding the bowls. 

"No, let's not worry him", Fili was crown prince after his uncle, and he had a sense of responsibility and a reputation to maintain as such, "As our official burglar, we thought that you might like to look into it."

"Well, something big uprooted these trees", concluded Bilbo as he looked around the area of the disappearance. 

"That was our thinking", Fili faced the trees and nodded.

"Something very big and possibly quite dangerous", the hobbit was getting committed. 

"Hey, there's a light", Fili had crouched beside one of the uprooted trees and pointed deep into the woods, "Here, stay down", after beckoning the other two to follow him, the three take cover behind a fallen log. 

"What is it?", whispered Bilbo, as harsh laughter was heard all around them.

"Trolls", glared brave Kili. Both he and his brother ran nearer to the fire, and while still clutching their meals, Bilbo followed. Footsteps that practically made them jump made them stare at whatever it was that decided to walk. A Mountain troll appears, with two ponnies in each arm .

"He's got Myrtle and Minty!" whispered Bilbo, very upset about it, "I think they're going to eat them, we need to do something", Fili nodded.

"Yes, you should. Mountain trolls are slow and stupid, and you're so small", Bilbo quickly shook his red head.

"No!"

"It's perfectly safe; we'll be right behind you", insisted the elder brother. Taking the bowls from the hobbit, the dwarven prince pushed him.

"If you run into trouble, hoot twice like a barn owl, once like a brown owl", instructed Kili, very encouraging. Slowly, poor Bilbo walked forward.

"Twice like a barn owl, once like a brown owl? Are you sure this is a good idea?", but the princes were gone. 

The trolls spoke among them, just like any creature would. They were three in total, and while one of them was stirring something that seemed like a stew, the one that hadn't stolen Minty and Myrtle stared hungrily.

"Mutton yesterday, mutton today andblimey, if it don't look like mutton again tomorrow", the one stirring, Bert, complained. The one that stole the ponies, William, corrected him.

"Quite your gripping. These ain't sheep; these is West Nags!", the other didn't seem happy.

"I don't like horse, I never have. Not enough fat on them", the final one, Tom, complained. 

"Well, it's better than that leathery old farmer", noted the cook, "All skin and bones, he was. I'm still picking bits of him out of me teeth."

Little Bilbo sneaked around the campsite, hidden behind trees and bushes. William sat in a big log and Tom sneezed right into the cauldron. 

"Oh, that's lovely, that is: a floater!", Bilbo was surprised at the disgust with which Bert complained. 

"Might improve the flavor!", mocked William.

"There's more where that came from!", laughed Tom, who pushed for another sneeze. Bert grabbed the troll's nose.

"Sit down!", while they fought, Bilbo quickly turned to look towards where the ponies were tied, and his eyes passed by a long knife in Tom's belt. Set on freeing the poor ponies, the hobbit walked towards the blade.

"I'm starving! Are we having horse tonight or what?", Bert glared at William.

"Shut your cakehole. You'll eat what I give you!", lectured the cook.

"How come he's the cook? Everything tastes the same; everything tastes like chicken", if it weren't a troll, it'd be certianly pouting. 

"Except the chicken", noted Tom.

"That tastes like fish!", William was a complainer, it seemed. Sweet Bilbo now stood behind the troll that had the long blade, Tom, who had put his handkerchief over it. Reaching for the knife, Bilbo almost had an hold of it when suddenly he was grabbed. The troll brought him to its face and sneezed right into the hobbit.   

"Blimey! Bert, look what's come out of me hooter! It's got arms and legs and everything", shocked, the ginger haired creature merely stared straight ahead as the troll spoke with it's companion. While deciding on what Bilbo was, Tom put him to the ground. William wondered if he was an oversized squirrel.

"I'm a burgl-a hobbit!", full of snot, his attitude hadn't died down and Bilbo quickly corrected them. As stupid as their species was, they understood him to be a 'burgla-hobbit'. It became quite serious when they wondered if perhaps Bilbo was cookable... Tom tried to grab him, but he dodged and sprinted towards the trees, only to be cornered by Bert.  

"He wouldn't make more than a mouthful, not when he's skinned and boned!"

"Perhaps there's more Burgla-Hobbits around these parts. Might be enough for a pie!", laughed William. The hobbit kept on dodging them, and they began getting upset, until one of them finally grabbed him.

"Are there any more of you little fellows hiding where you shouldn't?", asked William.

"No", Bilbo was breathing fast.

"He's lying!", accused Tom. 

"No, I'm not!", yelled the hobbit.

"Hang his toes over the fire! Make him squeal!", ordered Tom, but suddenly help came. Kili wacked at Tom's leg who squealed. 

"Drop him!", demanded the young prince. When questioned, Kili smirked and spun his sword, "I said, drop him", The troll growled and threw Bilbo against Kili, making them both fall. All the dwarves appeared from the treeline, weapons ready. Bravely, they fought against the trolls, and as the battle continues, Bilbo creeps beneath the trolls' feet, dodging every footfall. Grabbing Tom's fallen knife, Bilbo finally manages to reach the ponies and frees them from the ropes keeping them prisioners! William sees him, and grabs him. Soon the trolls are holding each of his limbs.

"Bilbo!", Fili glared at the fowl creatures.

"Lay down your arms, or we'll rip his off!", Conflicted, Thorin takes a few seconds to decide what to do, but finally throws his sword down. The others follow their leader, frustrated.

They were taking too long. Sighing, the elven princess thought of the many reasons why they could be taking so long in returning to the camp. They were either mocking poor Bilbo, telling stories of the past or they had found something stupid to compete amongst themselves. By the Valar, how difficult could it be to just do one thing!? She had merely asked that the princes were looked after, but they had taken much too long. Of course, she should have tried to stop them from going to search for them from the moment they decided to go all together, but no... Her quick steps took her into the forest and she frowned. Where were they? She swore that-

"What in Yavanna's name?", following the light she had just seen, the elf gasped upon the scene that greated her. Two trolls were spinning Dwalin, Fili, Oin and Gloin that had been tied to a spit that was atop a fire. Looking around she found the rest of them, Thorin included, tied in sacks. Little Bilbo was speaking something about them having worms in their tubes, but Maetharänel was too far gone in her rage. Running towards one of them, she quickly took her sword that was attached at her hip and sliced one of them.

"AUUUUUU", yelled the one she had injured. In a rampage, the princess turned towards one of the ones that was trying to cook her friends and stabbed his foot making him yell too.

"MAETH, WATCH OUT!", yelled Fili, in a panic. Unfortunately, while injuring the others, it had given time for the last one to grab her around the legs. Maetharänel gasped as her world turned upside down.

"My, my, would ye look at this?", it's terrible breath was all over the elf's face as it brought her close, "An elf? Well boys, it seems we are lucky after all", laughed Bert. Maetharänel growled and the dwarves and Bilbo yelled at them to let her go, Thorin saw red and was trying to free himself.

"You have exactly two seconds to put me down, you disgusting creature",  the elf glared into it's eyes and it smirked.

"Kill her! Kill her, Bert! Me foot, me poor foot", winced the other.

"I'll put ya down alright, down me throat", and it brought her up and opened it's gigantic mouth. Maetharänel tried to free herself, squirming and burying her nails into it's large and oily fingers, but it was to no vail.

"NO-", yelled her Thorin, but as she felt the troll loosening it's grip, all that passed through her mind was Legolas. How would her boy react? It would be yet another loss in his life, would he be able to take it? Would Galion and Thranduil be able to comfort him? There she was, the one that was supposed to save him causing him even more pain. 

'Legolas, I'm sorry sweetling, I love you so much...', thought the princess in her final moments.  Maetharänel hadn't been able to tell Thorin the truth, and the last time she had proclaimed her love towards him had been so long ago... She wouldn't help Kili with his bow anymore, and Fili wouldn't sleep in her lap. Dwalin would not complain about her existence any longer, and Balin wasn't going to help her perfect her kuzdhul. The Ri brothers weren't going to give her anymore tea or tell her funny stories, and the rest of the company wouldn't make her laugh anymore. Right in the moment that she felt herself fall, a voice boomed through the scene, louder than even the chants of happiness from the trolls, than the screams that came from the dwarves and the desperate yells coming from Fili and Thorin.

"THE DAWN WILL TAKE YOU ALL!", Gandalf quickly strikes the rock beneath him with his staff. It broke in half with a loud crack. Sunlight pours into the clearing and turns the trolls into stone. Instead of falling into the troll's open mouth, Maetharänel's head bumped hard into the stone before her whole body fell into the ground. Groaning, the princess felt something in her back hurting a lot and in mere seconds, Mithrandir was by her side, helping her sit. Wipping her sweaty forehead with her forearm after slowly seating, the elf stared into the wizard's eyes.

"That was close", smiled Gandalf, and relief finally took her.

"By the Valar, I-", Fili and Kili threw themselves into her and she fell once more. Wincing, she felt their hands everywhere in her back, arms and legs. How they had managed to make her fall down and be sat once again in mere seconds, she didn't know. 

"Maeth, what hurts?", asked Fili as he grasped hold of her face.

"Your face is all swollen already!", Kili touched his forehead.

"Boys, please, I'll be fine in a bit", the whole company came around her and took the boys so Thorin could approach.

"Amrâlimê, what hurts?", whispered the king after kissing her forehead. His hand went down her back and she winced and recoiled, "You must have broken something", frowned the king, but as he helped her stand up, the elf merely put her hands to her lower back, leaned back and forward and then 'crack', "Better?", smiled the king.

"Yes, thank you", and she leaned down so they could touch their foreheads. 

It had been their first major scare, but the path that awaited them had many more dangers.

Chapter Text

After making sure his elf was in condition to continue, Thorin approached their wizard.

"Where did you go to, if I may ask?", the Grey looked towards him.

"To look ahead", holding his staff, Gandalf too looked toards their elf that was being looked over by Oin.

"What brought you back?"

"Looking behind. Nasty business; still, they're all in one piece", he nodded towards the company, and after looking at them, Thorin regarded him once again, looking like he had been right all the time.

"No thanks to your burglar", confronted the dwarf.

"He had the nous to play for time", countered the other, "None of the rest of you thought of that", Thorin looked repentant. Gandalf turns, examining the trolls, and thinking. How come they were there?, "They must have come down from the Ettenmoors".

"Since when do mountain trolls venture this far south?"

"Oh, not for an age. Not since a darker power ruled these lands. In any case, they could not have moved in daylight", Thorin turned to the comapny and told them to keep going, and they did. 

Walking through the forest, the princess felt pain. Not on her body, but in her heart. Why did the forest seem so... grim? The leader stopped.

"There must be a cave nearby", said the dwarven king.  Thorin and Gandalf scanned the surrounding area, and soon the Grey found and lead them towards the said cave. As everyone walked inside, coughs and retching sounds were heard. The elf herself felt nauseous, and held her stomach.

"What's that stench?", asked Kili.

"It's a troll hoard. Be careful what you touch", warned Gandalf. Soon, the dwarves found piles of gold coins and many more treasures. Their exploring had given fruits.

"Seems a shame to leave it laying around. Anyone could take it", hummed Fili. Gloin nodded as if he had understood something.

"Agreed. Oin, get a shovel", and he did. Mäeth looked as they started making holes in the ground. Thorin had found something much more interesting, two swords covered in spider webs. Giving one to the wizard, he unsheats the other and evaluates the craftmanship in it. By his expression, it was no mere sword.

"These were not made by any troll", councludes Oakenshield.

"Nor were they made by any smith among men", he comes closer to further examine the blade, "These were forged in Gondolin by the High Elves of the First Age", Thorin, who could not forgive nor forget, begins to put the sword away, staring in digust, "You could not wish for a finer blade!", glares Mithrandir, and Thorin angrily unsheathed the sword once again and held it high above him. In the entrance of the cave, the others were filling a chest with coins and burying it. Dwalin shook his head, while Mäetharanel watched curiously.

"We're making a long term deposit!", informed Gloin, and the elf could only nod. They never ceased to surprise her. An hand holding her own made her look down into Thorin's eyes. 

"Come! Let's get out of this foul place", he seemed to have- was that an elven sword? Looking at him in mirth, she opened her mouth to speak, but, "Not a word from you", so she merely laughed. The dwarves file behind Thorin, leaving the cave. Gandalf makes to follow them, when his foot hits against something, a small sword.

"Bilbo, here", the wizard had approached them and gave the hobbit a sword, "This is about your size."

"I can't take this", answered the red head, aprehensive. He didn't want anything to do with weapons.

"The blade is of elvish make, which means it will glow blue when orcs or goblins are nearby", explained the wizard, and while relutant, the other took the sword.

"I have never used a sword in my life", he looked at the wizard.

"And I hope you'll never have to", confessed the Grey, "But if you do, remember this: true courage is about knowing not when to take a life, but when to spare one", their elf approached the small being and touched his shoulder.

"Bilbo, all that matters is that you stay true to yourself, above anything else", he looked up at her and gulped, nodded and followed the company up to the exit. The princess had been about to follow, but her ears picked up a loud rustling sound coming from deep within the forest.

"I hear-"

"Something's coming!", warned Thorin. Mithrandir withdrew his sword and ran to the dwarves.

"Stay together! Hurry now, arm yourselves", and they did. Little Bilbo lingered behind, it seemed his word would be put to use much too soon. Admiring his sword, he marvelled at the power it emanated before running towards the dwarves.

Riding at full speed through the trees, Radagast The Brown Wizard, is led by a rabbit-drawn sling. He bursts through the woods, startling the Company.

"Thieves! Fire! Murder!", yelled a panicked wizard, as he drew to a halt. The dwarves all had their weapons withdrawn. They look to Gandalf for an explanation of this odd sight, but it was the elf who spoke first.

"Oh, dear Radagast! What is the matter?" she released her arm from Thorin's grip and walked to the wizard.

"Radagast! It's Radagast the Brown", explains the Grey. Gandalf walks towards his fellow wizard. He seemed glad with this new arrival.

Gandalf, Mäetharanel and the new arrival had gone off several paces from the dwarves, after the elf spoke with and calmed the new wizard. Mithrandir smoked on his pipe with a grave expression.

"The Greenwood is sick, Gandalf", had that been why her heart hurt? The shock left soon, but it didn't take the urge to end whatever it was that had endangered the forest with it, "A darkness has fallen over it. Nothing grows anymore, at least nothing good. The air is foul with decay. But worse are the webs."

"Webs? What do you mean?", frowned the Grey.

"Spiders, Gandalf. Giant ones. Some kind of spawn of Ungoliant, or I am not a wizard", the woman had been pacing in front of them as they spoke, "I followed their trail. They came from Dol Guldur", and then she stopped. Dol Goldur... the place still felt heavy on her sould, hearing of it made her feel endless rage, for theyhad taken her most precious half, her sister. Slowly, she turned to look at them with rage in her gaze. How dare they harm the forest!?

"Dol Guldur? But the old fortress is abandoned", Gandalf touched her shoulder when she looked down and began taking deep breaths.

"No, Gandalf, it is not", the Brown shook his head, he had been there personally, after all, "It is still very clear in my mind, what was found there...", images went through his mind, and both his companions saw he was no longer with them, but deep within his memories, "A dark power dwells in there, such as I have never felt before. It is the shadow of an ancient horror. One that can summon the spirits of the dead", it was as if he had crossed the stone bridge once again, and walked inside the dark fortress, now in ruins, only armed with his staff. While walking through the scenary, afraid and panicking, his hands shook. Then, he took a sword from a hooded statue, but something took his whole attention, "I saw him, Gandalf, from out of the dark", the princess approached him even more, "A Necromancer has come!", chanting, the Necromancer approaches Radagast, it was a haunting and dangerous sound that made the wizard jump in fright, finally back from his memories. He awkwardly looked at both of them in apology, but the princess couldn't find it in herself to smile, "Sorry."

"Now, a Necromancer? Are you sure?", that was a complete change of scenery. From his robes, Radagast took a cloth wrapped package. Gandalf unties it and looks inside. He looks up, concerned, and Mäetharanel mirrorred his expression.

"That is not from the world of the living", whispered Radagast, eyes fixed in it. The elf's ears picked up yet another sound and she left her worries behind.

"Wargs", and she ran to the company. The dwarves had perked up in alarm.

"Was that a wolf? Are there wolves out there?", asked Bilbo, while Mäetharanel grabbed her sword.

"Wolf? No, that is not a wolf", Fili stood up and got ready for battle.

From behind a nearby crag, a warg came. It leaped into the midst of the Company, savage and ferocious. Thorin quickly buried his sword into it's neck, killing it. Another charges from behind. Kili draws an arrow, shooting down the beast. It attempts to pick itself back up, but Dwalin brings his hammer down upon it. The warg dies with a whimper.

"Warg scouts! Which means an Orc pack is not far behind", the headache taking her head could not be worse, but of course Thorin had found a way to further it.

"Orc pack?", questioned Bilbo, trying to contain his panic. Gandalf approached them, accusation in his eyes.

"Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin?", he asked Thorin.

"No one", answered the future King Under the Mountain.

"Who did you tell?", accused Gandalf, louder.

"No one, I swear", and he could tell the dwarf spoke the truth, "What in Durin's name is going on?"

"We're being hunted!", clarified the elf, while looking around. Dwalin cursed.

"We have to get out of here."

"We can't! We have no ponies, they've bolted!", said Gloin, from the crest of the hill.

"I'll draw them off", declared the Brown

"Radagast, no", he grabbed the elven princess' hands.

"These are Gundabad Wargs, they will outrun you!", exclaimed the Grey.

"These are Rhosgobel rabbits!", smirked the other wizard, "I'd like to see them try", grinning, he bowed down to Mäeth. The howling of wargs echo across the forest, they were getting closer. Radagast, already with his rabbits, shoots out of the trees and provokes them along with the commander, Yazngeg, "Come and get me!", and the orc orders the wargs to do so.

Further along the field, Gandalf watched from behind a large boulder. Radagast and the pursuing orcs disappear into the distance.

"Come on", urged the wizard while running forward, the Company right behid him. Together, they darted across the rocky plain, weapons drawn. Radagast and the orcs could be seen in the distance while he lead them away, his face contorted in determination. The Company continued to weave in and out of the rocks, led by Thorin and Gandalf, when suddenly, Thorin stopped in his tracks. Radagast and the orcs run past them, too close for comfort. Gandalf looks to Bilbo and the others, "Stay together", turning around he leads the dwarves, the hobbit and the elf back into the barren fields. Stopping behind another boulder, Balin continues to jog forward, out of breath and disoriented.

"Balin, no!",  Thorin grabbed him by the collar and pulled Balin behind the rock. Gandalf watched Radagast closely, waiting for the right moment. Finally, he beckonned everyone to run. Thorin stays behind with Gandalf, briefly. "Where are you leading us?", but Mithrandir merely stared at him.

"Come, Thorin", says his elf and, discontent, the king rejoins his company, "Mithrandir, I do know where you're leading them, and I do know that it will not be welcomed", said she, while running besides the thoughtful wizard.

The commander Yazneg and his orcs continued to chase after Radagast, their makeshift swords drawn high in the air. One orc abruptly came to a stop, smelling the air as it observed the rocky ford in suspicion. For such a stupid creature, it certainly did think. The Company  understood what it was trying to detect and quickly dived behind an outcropping rock, their breath ragged. The orc, still mounted on top of the warg, climbed the boulder. He took another good whiff of the air, but everyone reamined silent. Thorin looks at Kili and nods. Slowly, his nephew readied his bow and arrow.

"Thorin, no- KILI!", suddenly, Kili springs out from behind the rock. The orc is quick to grab for his horn, but Kili looses his arrow. Both the orc and his warg are shot off of the boulder and onto the ground, "ARE YOU INSANE!?", their elf stands up and snapped towards the king who had been about to answer, but from across the ford, Yazneg and the others had come to a halt. Growlds and screeches echoed across the plains. Wounded, the orc rises to its feet again. Dwalin leaped forward, sending his warhammer crashing down and finally killing it. Yazneg raises his sword in the air, watching the dwarves from across the ford. Mäetharanel met his eyes and readied herself. 

"The Dwarf-scum are over there! After them!", yelled the commander in black speech. The Warg Riders change their course to the dwarves. The Company heard the wargs howling and became panic-stricken. 

"Move. Run!", commanded Gandalf, and they followed him once again, sprinting past rocks, boulders, bushes and trees. In the distance, the orcs appeared closer and closer. They continued to flee from the scouts, until Yazneg emerges from the crest of the hill. Other orcs filed beside their commander, circling around the Company.

"They're coming!", yelled Kili.

"Kili, shoot them! Shoot them down!", orders Thorin, and the dark haired prince prepares his bow. Gandalf noticed the entrance to a cavern, underground. One moment, he is running towards it, and the next moment, he is gone. Slowly, the orcs and the wargs marched forward. They had closed in on their prey.

"We're surrounded!" says Fili, and Kili begins loading and unloading arrows as best he can, taking out an orc here and there.

"Where is Gandalf?", yells Kili.

"Has he abandoned us?", Dwalin looked everywhere for the tall man, while Yazneg approached the company, riding atop his warg. He snarls viciously and gives the Company a deathly stare. Thorin draws out Orcrist, which glowed blue.

"Hold your ground!", the dwarven king had his sword pointed towards the threat, ready to take action. Besides him, Mäetharanel acessed the situation at the milisecond with her own sword already stained with blood drawn. 

The dwarves had circled up, their weapons raised. Yazneg rides closer, glaring all the while, and the Company stares back at it, defiant. One of the orcs came much too close to Kili and Fili, who were together, and before the blonde prince could defend his brother, a dagger was etched to the creatures forehead, it's warg desoriented. 

"Not my nephews, you foul bastards", and the princess grasped another sword and started spinning it. Kili and Fili watched open mouthed as hatred consumed her kind blue eyes. Suddenly, it was as if Dis was in the battlefield, and Mäetharanel took a completely different stance. No longer was she in the defence, she was ready to kill every creature surrouding them. Thorin quickly grasped hold of her hand and shook it, making her look down at him. 

"What are you-", he had been about to snap at her, but the wizard returning to the scene stopped him.

"This way, you fools!", Gandalf pops out from the cavern entrance.

"All of you, go, go!", said the leader as he forced the elf down the entrance. Bilbo and the dwarves dash towards the cavern entrance. One by one, they started to slide underground. Seeing this and it's dead companion, Yazneg sent its wargs forward. As the Company slided into the cavern, Thorin sliced the wargs following them. He turned to Kili, still shooting in the field.

"Kili!", called out the king to his nephew.

"Kili, don't make me go get you!", warned the elf. Reluctant, Kili runs forward towards them. He slides into the cavern, with Thorin filing in behind him. The dwarves catch their breath in the cavern. Dwalin investigates an exit in the cave wall. From outside, elvish horns ring out in the distance and the elf stiffened and looked towards the entrance of their hideout. Her first instinct was to go outside and help the elves but two hands grabbed hers. Looking behind, Kili and Fili held her back with frowns, "Let-", but she came back to them, her bloodlust gone. Her eyebrows got less heavy and her eyes looked down. It was her kin, but she had left them willingly.

Outside, a dozen mounted elves charge forward in full force. Arrows fly in every direction, bringing down orcs and wargs alike. The commander growled in defeat. An orc is shot down from his warg. His corpse rolls down the fords, reaching the cavern entrance. Mäetharanel quickly pushed her nephews back. The dead orc rolled into the cavern, an arrow buried into its head. Thorin plucks out the arrow, examining its make.

"Elves", Thorin drops it in disgust before turning to look at his One, now he understood the reaction. Facing him head on, she lifted her chin, daring him to say anything. Before they could begin fighting, Dwalin emerged from the crack in the cave wall.

"I cannot see where the pathway leads. Do we follow it or no?"

"We follow it, of course!", answer Fili, quickly walking in his direction. The dwarves all shuffle forward.

"I think that would be wise", as the elven princess passes by him he grasps her arm, "Mäetharanel, I understand your aching for your own, but you should not put youself in danger."

"I-", she sighed and let her hand go through her dishaveled hair, "Everytime an elf is nearby, it could be Legolas, Mithrandir", whispered the princess.

"My dear princess...", smiled the wizard, "Your nephew has worries back at home, worries you are now certain of", she bit her bottom lip and shook her head, "Do not worry for that now, you will have time. Need I remind you we have a quest to fulfill?", but she didn't answer, she merely turned her back and ran to catch up with the rest of the company.

Dwalin was the one leading the dwarves through the narrow in the cavern. The Company groaned while pushing the path. Sunlight beammed down on the dwarves, and the deep breath the elf took before letting out as if she was finally relaxing made them all slowly look towards her, who smiled and undid her messy bun. They squeezed through the twisting cliffs, each step becoming more and more strenuous. Bilbo looked around to Gandalf, bewildered.

"Gandalf, where are we?", but the wizard merely grinned.

"You can feel it?"

"Yes. It feels like - well, like magic."

"And it is", answered the elf.

"That's exactly what it is. A very powerful magic", clarified the Grey.

"There is light ahead!", announced Dwalin and Gandalf stepped forward with the dwarves. Bilbo looked at him, suspicious as the others pushed through the final stretch of the pathway. The Company stopped at a ridge, looking below them, and the scenery that met them was a valley gleaming in golden sunlight.

"The Valley of Imladris. In the Common Tongue, it's known by another name", Bilbo walked more towards it.

"Rivendell", whispered the hobbit, in complete wonder. Unlike the ginger, his companions were extremely displeased.

"Here lies the last homely house east of the sea", announced Gandalf, and Thorin wheeled around and glared at him.

"This was your plan all along, to seek refuge with our enemy", he didn't even hear the displeased sound Mäetharanel made. 

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield", reprimanded Mithrandir, "The only ill-will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself."

"You think the elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us", hissed Oakenshield.

"The quest you have began is no easy one, Thorin", he turned to look at his partner who had her arms crossed, "Do not face any discouragment you may hear as belittling the quest itself, for no one will stop you by force in here", and she started walking ahead.

"Of course they will", nodded their wizard, "But we have questions that need to be answered."

"And I assure you they will be!", called out the warrior princess.

"If we are to be successful, this will need to be handled with tact and respect and no small degree of charm, which is why you will leave the talking to me", Thorin rolled his eyes, but followed after the wizard with his company, all were relunctant.

The Company enters the main courtyard of Rivendell. The entire place seemed to be suspended in an eternal state of tranquility and Bilbo looked around him, awed by Rivendell's majesty. A dark-haired elf, walked down a flight of stairs nearby. He gives Gandalf a courteous smile.

"Mithrandir", and then Mäetharanel appears from behind the wizard and his smile turned into pure shock, "My lady-", but she looked at him with strict, warning eyes, and he went quiet. The dwarves looked at her, but she met no one's stare.

"Ah, Lindir!", Gandalf quickly cut him off, but the elf didn't question, he simply greeted the wizard and the princess, that did it right back at him. The dwarves were mumbling amongst themselves, and Bilbo was simply lost.

"We heard you had crossed into the Valley", said Lindir, in elvish.

"I must speak with Lord Elrond", straight to the point, the wizard asked of the lord's whereabouts.

"My lord Elrond is not here", answered the elf in the common tongue.

"Not here?", the wizard out his hands in his hips and frowned, "Where is he?", but before the other could answer, elvish horns rang out across the courtyard. The company turned around as armed horseman began approaching them at a fast pace. As soon as they started circling them, confused, the dwarves raise their weapons in defense. Slowly, they come to a halt, and their leader, the Lord Elrond, separates himself from the others.

"Gandalf", he acknowledged, the wizard bowed gracefully.

"Lord Elrond", he ackowledged the elf back, and began a conservation in elvish, "My friend! Where have you been?"

"We've been hunting a pack of orcs that came up from the south. We slew a number near the hidden pass", Elrond dismounted from his horse so he and Gandalf could embrace. After they part, Elrond turns to look to Maeth, who was looking at him with anticipation, "Mäetharanel, I believe you have a lot of explaining to do."

"My Lord Elrond", she bowed down, but the elf approached her and lifted her chin.

"From all that are in here, you are the least that must bow to me. Welcome back, my dear friend", and when he embraced her too, tight and with a sense of relief, she had to stop herself from letting all the emotions she had contained out. Returning the gesture, she let herself stay like that until Elrond let her go and began tending to his armor.

"Strange for Orcs to come so close to our borders", elves came to take his armor and he gave the dwarves a knowing look, "Something, or someone, has drawn them near."

"That may have been us", nodded Gandalf. Thorin steps forward and Elrond looks upon him with recognition.

"Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain", the princess had gone to his side as soon as she was released.

"I do not believe we have met", said the soon to be king.

"You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled under the Mountain."

"Indeed; he made no mention of you", the elven princess glared in his way, but the lord ignored the insult.

"Light the fires, bring forth the wine. We must feed our guests", ordered Elrond in elvish and the dwarves gripped their weapons uneasily. Gloin jumped forward, raising up his axe while Mäeth snorted in amusement.

"What is he saying? Does he offer us insult?", Gandalf, much like a father ready ro reprimand his child, stepped forward with a stern look.

"No, master Gloin, he's offering you food", the dwarves seem surprised and circle up, discussing with one another in low whispers. Finally, Gloin turns back to Elrond, disgruntled.

"Well, in that case, lead on", and he did.

Soon, the dwarves were sat around a table, overflowing with food. However, the dwarves picked at the meal, uninterested.

"Where's the meat?", Dwalin gestured to the table in absolute bafflement. Oin held up a vegetable with his knife, looking at it in disgust.

"Have they got any chips?", asked sweet Ori. Elrond and Gandalf enter the court, with Mäeth close behind them.

"Kind of you to invite us. I'm not really dressed for dinner.", Gandalf looked down at his clothes.

"Well, you never are", Elrond chuckled while leaning forward, and they sat themselves at the head of the table. 

"Good thing this is my first time being underdressed then", said Mäetharanel, and the three chuckle. From the end of the table, Kili and an elf 'maid' exchange looks, and the dwarven prince winked. Kili turns and notices the other dwarves staring at him, but he merely shrugs.

"I can't say I fancy elf maids myself. Too thin. They're all high cheekbones and creamy skin. Not enough facial hair for me. Although, that one there's not bad", and he stared at yet another passing elf.

"That's not an elf maid", clarifies Dwalin, smirking. Kili looked as the elf turns, revealing himself to be no elf maid. Shocked, he looked to the other dwarves as they roared with laughter, banging against the table in their amusement.

"It's funny",  Kili awkwardly picked at his food, and glanced at Mäetharanel who gave him an understanding smile. 

An elf maid passes the table, playing the flute. Oin, who seems to dislike the music, stuffs a napkin into his hearing trumpet, blocking out the sound. After trying the trumpet and not hearing anything, he faced his companions with a big grin. On the other end of the table, Elrond looked at Thorin's sword. He carefully examined it, running his hand up and down the sheath.

"This is Orcrist, the Goblin Cleaver. A famous blade, forged by the High Elves of the West. My kin", Thorin heard carefully and accepted it as the lord gave it back, "May it serve you well", the dwarf nodded at him in appreciation before putting it to side and grabbing Mäeth's hand once more. Gandalf's sword was next, so he slided the sword several inches out of its sheath, "And this is Glamdring, the Foe-hammer, sword of the King of Gondolin. These swords were made for the goblin wars of the First Age", the elven lady nodded and kept eating. Oh, how she had missed her kin's food.

"I wouldn't bother, laddie", Bilbo had been looking down at his own small sword underneath the table and Balin gave him a pitying smile, "Swords are named for the great deeds they do in war."

"What are you saying, my sword hasn't seen battle?", Bilbo wasn't offended, he was actually slightly shaken up that the sword would get it's name by his hand.

"I'm not actually sure it is a sword; more of a letter opener, really", Balin gave him a gentle, apologetical smile. Lord Elrond returned Glamdring to Gandalf, with an inquiring look about him.

"How did you come by these?", wondered the elf.

"We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East Road, shorty before we were ambushed by orcs", answered Mäeth, her own sword by her side, "I needn't give you Faer Medil, it has seen way too much battle", he chuckled and touched her other hand before looking around the table.

"And what were you doing on the Great East Road?", but he got no answer. Thorin rises from the table with a perturbed look.

"Excuse me", and he left the court. Elrond and Mithrandir look at each other in wonder of what had made him rise so suddenly. Mäetharanel debated in going after her lover, but kept on sitting. They'd talk, eventually, but for now, a much needed rest for all of them awaited, in the comfortable chambers of Imladris.

_________________________________________

While gold morning light streamed into the chamber that Bilbo stood in, he approached the shards of Nassil, held by a great stone statue. Giving the sword a brief look, he turning his attention to the Mural of Dagorlad, where Sauron loomed above Issildur forever, his black mace raised high in the air. Bilbo stared at the painting in wonder, particularly at the gold ring that was in Sauron's finger. The One Ring. Shaking his head, he went outside, to the courtyard so he could clear his mind. With a smile on his face, he stared in admiration at the beauty of Rivendell, and all its many houses. Even the birds seemed to be happy there! Sighing deeply in contentment, Bilbo stood at the edge of a balcony, looking down at the rivers and streams below. He hadn't been alone for long, Lord Elrond entered the balcony.

"Not with your companions?", wondered the elf, while standing beside him.

"No, I shan't be missed", answered the small red head, "The truth is that most of them don't think I should be on this journey".

"Indeed? I've heard that hobbits are very resilient".

"Really?", the lord nodeed.

"I've also heard they're fond of the comforts of home", was he provoking Bilbo?

"I've heard that it is unwise to seek the council of elves, for they will answer with yes and no", but Elrond looked down at Bilbo, giving him a warm smile. The hobbit chuckled nervously.

"You are always welcome to stay here, if that is your wish", and witht hat, he left. Bilbo stared after him, considerating.

_________________________________

Gandalf, Thorin, Bilbo, Mäetharanel and Balin gathered in Elrond's chambers. Thorin stared at Elrond, nothing but pure resentment in his eyes. Unlike him, his elf seemed expectant as to what would happen. It had been long since she had been near Elrond, and she had always admired his habbilities. 

"Our business is no concern of elves", of course Thorin would take a defensive position. 

"For goodness sake, Thorin, show him the map", said the Grey.

"It is the legacy of my people; it is mine to protect, as are its secrets", then, Mäetharanel took the map from him, "Mäeth-", a stern look made him shut up, but he kept glaring.

"Save us from the stubbornness of dwarves. Your pride will be your downfall. You stand here in the presence of one of the few in Middle Earth who can read that map", he still lectured, "Show it to Lord Elrond!", he now looked to Mäeth, who shook her head. Before the wizard could act on his shocked look, she spoke up.

"I cannot read these, Thorin", said his lover while looking in his eyes, "Grant us this, so we may continue", he saw the determination in her eyes, so, reluctantly, he nodded and Mäetharanel handed the map to Elrond.

"Thorin, Mäetharanel, no!", Balin holds out his hand, but Thorin brushes him aside. 

"Erebor. What is your interest in this map?", Thorin opens his mouth to speak, but Gandalf answers first.

"It's mainly academic. As you know, this sort of artifact sometimes contains hidden text", answered the wizard, as if it was the purest of truths, "You still read ancient dwarvish, do you not?", Elrond glanced at them before walking several paces off, into the moonlight. 

"Moon runes", says the lord, in elvish.

"I knew it. Of course they'd hide such an important information like this", grumbled the princess.

"Moon runes? Of course; an easy thing to miss", nodded Gandalf

"Well, in this case, that is true; moon runes can only be read by the light of a moon the same shape and season as the day on which they were written".

"Can you read them?", asked Thorin, and his answer was a nod. Walking out of the chambers, Gandalf and the others followed behind him. They entered an open area on the side of a cliff. Waterfalls on every side, almost roaring. Lord Elrond lied the map on a large, crystaline table.

"These runes were written on a Midsummer's Eve by the light of a crescent moon nearly two hundred years ago", he passed the tips of his fingers through the scroll and smilled, "It would seem you were meant to come to Rivendell", he turned to Thorin and nodded with a serious look, "Fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield; the same moon shines upon us tonight". They looked up as clouds passed over the moon, shining down on the table and making light flow through the map. Slowly, glowing white runes fade into view. "Stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole", Elrond read it slowly, taking in the information he had just gained.

"Durin's Day?", asked sweet Bilbo.

"It is the start of the dwarves' near year, when the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter appear in the sky together", explained Mäetharanel while running a hand through her free locks of hair.

"This is ill news. Summer is passing. Durin's day will soon be upon us", said Thorin, worried.

"We still have time", declared Balin.

"Time? For what?", the poor hobbit was lost in the conversation.

"To find the entrance", said Balin before turning to Thorin "We have to be standing at exactly the right spot at exactly the right time. Then, and only then, can the door be opened", said the older dwarf, with finality in his gaze.

"So this is your purpose, to enter the Mountain?", turning to the elf, they seemed to have forgotten about him. But, Thorin also quickly forgot the help he had just gotten.

"What of it?", the soon to be king pratically hissed.

"There are some who would not deem it wise", but Thorin takes back the map gruffly. Gandalf looked at Elrond.

"What do you mean?"

"You are not the only guardian to stand watch over Middle Earth", and Elrond turned to leave, leaving behind an uneasy feeling and Gandalf deep in thought. 

_______________________________

Somewhere, hidden from all light, there was a gathering happening. A gathering that had a host thought long gone. With howling wargs, Weathertop was the perfect place for orcs to gather there. Yazneg, who had been part of the orcs that chased Thorin and the Company, steps forward. Behind him, the remaining warg scouts and their wargs watch as a large, white warg growls at him in warning. It's master stands behind it, facing away.

“Khozdayin… Dorguz… zuranimid*", claims Yazneg, filled with fear, “Shugi golgai gelnakhanishim*”, the creature's explanations mattered nothing to their leader. Turning around, the orc, tall and pale, with a strong build, was Azog, the Defiler.

“Sha nargiz ob-hakhtil…*”, answered the pale orc, his icy eyes faced the smaller being in front of him, “Nargiz khobdi Rani Khozdil!”, growled Azog.

Turning around, Azog approached Yazneg. His left arm, which Thorin had cut off long ago during the battle of Azanulbizar, had been replaced with a metal arm and claw. The other was visibly fearful and shaking.

“Murganish dum…Turim hag shad*", excuse after excuse came out of the orc's mouth, but it was all for nothing, “Zorzor go-kairaz ob-guraniz.*”

“Ki go-kairag baganig.*”, stroking Yazneg’s head with his right hand, Azog grabbed and lifted his subordinate by the throat with his metal left hand. With a roar, he threw him against the pillars to the side. Wargs attacked him, killing him and eating him right away. Yazneg’s fellow Rider quaked in fear at the sight; however, the White Warg and Azog appear unfazed.

“Khozd-shrakhun gud sha kilyash-zag*”, yelled their leader, “Zidgar obod tung nash ru khobdud!”, the dwarves were to be found, and when found, the one who did it would be rewarded.

The rest of the Orcs left on their Wargs; what their master wanted, he had to get.

____________________________________________________

While the dwarves circled around a campfire made from burning ELVISH FURNITURE, in the ELVES HOME, and eating meat they had found, Bilbo wandered onto a large stairway. His face was etched with indecisiveness. Should he accompany them? Should he stay in Rivendell? Lord Elrond had shown him he'd feel welcome... Two walking figures brought him back to the reality. From far below the staircase, Gandalf and Elrond walked across a bridge. Curious, Bilbo watched them. Mäetharanel walked in front of them, with a thoughtful expression. 

"Of course I was going to tell you, I was waiting for this very chance. And really, I think you can trust that I know what I am doing", said Gandalf.

"Do you? That dragon has slept for 60 years. What will happen if your plan should fail, if you wake that beast?"

"We both know that will happen, Elrond", said the elven princess, "However, shouldn't we give them a chance? It is their home, after all".

"What if we succeed? If the dwarves take back the mountain, our defenses in the east will be strengthened", answered the wizard.

"It is a dangerous move, Gandalf", Elrond shook his head. Thorin approached Bilbo and the both of them paid close attention to the argument between the others.

"It is also dangerous to do nothing. The throne of Erebor is Thorin's birthright, what is it you fear?", the tall elf turned to look into the Grey's eyes.

"Have you forgotten? A strain of madness runs deep in that family", it was true, everyone knew it, even Mäetharanel who had wanted to forget it, "His grandfather lost his mind, his father succumbed to the same sickness. Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?", no, he couldn't. No one could, "Gandalf, these decisions do not rest with us alone. It is not up to you or me to redraw the map of Middle Earth."

Bilbo looked back at Thorin, whose expression was unreadable.

"With or without our help, these dwarves will march on the mountain", said Gandalf as he followed Elrond up some marble stairs, "They are determined to reclaim their homeland. I do not believe Thorin Oakenshield feels that he's answerable to anyone. Nor for that matter am I", the princess read the underlines as the wizard waited for ther on top of the stairs. He forgot about-

"It is not me you must answer to", Elrond had lead them into a pavilion. There, a tall, beautiful elf stood framed against the moonlight. She slowly turned around, revealing herself to be none other than Galadriel, Lady of Lórien.

"Lady Galadriel", said he, in wonder. Mäetharanel had to stop herself from running into the woman's arms. When she lsot her own mother, Galadriel herself was a present maternal figure in her life.

"Mithrandir, Mäetharanel", she spoke in elvish, "It has been a long time", and both gave her a gracious bow.

"Age may have changed me", he stood straight up, "but not so the Lady of Lorien", and the lady smiled gently, "I had no idea Lord Elrond had sent for you", she had been about to answer, but a voice interrupted her.

"He didn't. I did", said Saruman the White, from the shadows, sitting in a far corner.

"Saruman", Gandalf bowed down to the highest of the wizards.

"You've been busy of late, my friend", replied the other, "And it seems you have always known where the princess was, after all", he raised an eyebrow in her way.

"His silence was due to my request alone", said princess Mäetharanel. Saruman, for all the time he had been alive, was never a character that she enjoyed to be nearby. The man, despite his title, appeared to be someone dark, so she would avoid him at any chance.

Dawn had broken behind the White Council while they spoke of dire matters. Gandalf and Saruman sat at a marble table, while Galadriel and Elrond circle around them. The other elf lady sat nearby the edge of the balcony while looking at the view.

"Tell me, Gandalf. Did you think these plans and schemes of yours would go unnoticed", accused the White.

"Unnoticed? No, I'm simply doing what I feel to be right", the princess turned to frown at both of them. In her mind, Gandalf owed him nothing. 

"The dragon has long been on your mind", said Galadriel, while still going around.

"It is true, my lady", he nodded, "Smaug owes allegiance to no one. But if he should side with the enemy, a dragon could be used to terrible effect", oh, how right he was. Uncousciously, Mäeth touched the back of her neck, as if feeling the pain she had felt all those centuries ago while fighting another serpent.

"What do you mean?", Elrdon stopped and looked at him for an explanation.

"There is something at work beyond the evil of Smaug. Something far more powerful", he looked around at all of his companions, "We can remain blind to it, but it will not be ignoring us, that I can promise you. A sickness lies over the Greenwood", the topic was something sensitive to the princess, and it was no surprised when he looked at her and saw her looking away from them, "The woodsmen who live there now call it Mirkwood, and they say...", his voice trailed off. Should he reveal this?

"Well, don't stop now. Tell us what the woodsmen say", encouraged the older wizard.

"They speak of a Necromancer living in Dol Guldur, a sorcerer who can summon the dead", and Elrond frowned while Saruman scoffed.

"That's absurd. No such power exists in this world. This Necromancer is nothing more than a mortal man. A conjurer dabbling in black magic", Mäetharanel rolled her eyes and shook her head. 

"Does everything reach you, Lord Saruman?", asked the youngest elf.

"Everything that interests the peace of Middle Earth, princess", it was so much like him to run from the question, but she simply dropped it.

"And so I thought too, but Radagast has seen -"

"Radagast? Do not speak to of Radagast the Brown. He is a foolish fellow", said Saruman, absolutely appaled the Grey would give thought to anything the Brown said. As he began a tirade about Radagast, Gandalf sighed. Finally, Galadriel stopped in her tracks, and stared towards Gandalf. They began to speak telephatically.

"You carry something. It came to you from Radagast. He found it in Dol Guldur."

"Yes", to the outside they spoke only with their eyes.

"Show me", and from out of his robes, Gandalf slowly lifted out Radagast's package. He rested it on the table, letting out a dull thud.

"What is that?", wondered Elrond, curious about whatever was in the cloth. Unlike him, Mäetharanel felt all the hairs on her body standing up for the bad energy it gave.

"A relic of Mordor", clarified the Lady as Elrond reached towards the package, unwrapping it.

"A Morgul blade", one from Dol Guldur. They all appeared shocked.

"Oh, Radagast...", whispered the princess.

"Made for the Witch-king of Angmar and buried with him", said Galadriel, still stunned, "When Angmar fell, men of the north took his body and all that he possessed and sealed it within the High Fells of Rhudaur. Deep within the rock they buried them, in a tomb so dark it would never come to light."

"That is not possible. A powerful spell lies upon those tombs; they cannot be opened", Elrond's curiosity turned into bafflement.

"What proof do we have this weapon came from Angmar's grave?", Saruman still did not believe it? Had his old age finally made him go insane?

"By the Valar", said the youngest.

"I have none", answered Gandalf

"Because there is none! Let us examine what we know", and as Mäetharanel sat in the chair once more, he kept going, "A single Orc pack has dared to cross the Bruinen, a dagger from a bygone age has been found, and a human sorcerer who calls himself the Necromancer has taken up residence in a ruined fortress. It's not so very much, after all", but before he could continue, Lindir rushed into the pavilion, breathless. The council turned to look at him while the princess immediatly stood up.

"My lord Elrond, the dwarves, they've gone", informed the elf. Elrond and Gandalf exchange stunned looks.

"What? Lindir, what do you mean they've gone?", but she didn't wait for an answer and had been about to go down the stairs, when a voice stopped her.

"Mäetharanel."

_____________________________

Chapter Text

"Mäetharanel, wait", said Galadriel in elvish.

"My Lady, I must-", she did not wish to hear what Galadriel had to say. She feared the contents of the conversation greatly.

"Leave us, please", and Elrond, Saruman and the Grey began leaving, "I will call for you, Mithrandir", the man nodded and resumed his path. Watching as they went away, Mäetharanel saw Elrond speaking with Lindir in whispers, "What I must tell you is of great importance", the blonde began walking closer to her, "You shall be queen, Mäetharanel", and that made her look up at Galadriel's eyes, "And well you shall rule alongside a king with your many heirs", now it was her turn to be baffled.

"What do you mean?", and then, she remembered the mirror, "You saw a vision...", whispered Mäetharanel, "It will change with time, my Lady", Galadriel closed the distance between them and caressed her face before leaning her forehead against Mäetharanel's, "I cannot be... My father-"

"Mäetharanel, how long has it been since you have had any news from your home?", she couldn't go away, and it was not because the lady of Lórien held her arms with her hands, "The time when you heard news from the one you left your responsibilities to is long gone. But not us, the man has kept us warned", when looking at the other became too much, she closed her eyes with forrowed eyebrows, "King Donovan was an excellent man, but above that, he was a great monarch and an outstanding father", she would rather stay ignorant to the fact that everyone spoke about the man that gave her life in the past. He could not have left her, he would not, she would know by now, someone would've told her, right? "And having high duties is nothing new to you", finally, she gave her space to breath, but once more, she couldn't, "Do not fear responsibility, princess. You will be a wondrous ruler, I am certain of it."

"Let us not rush the future, Lady Galadriel. Let it come on it's own accord", the panic inside her rouse and so did she. Donovan had elves with him, and certainly Thranduil would have intervened should anything happen to the other king . The thought of not having her father's arms around her once she got back home was painful, oh so painful...

With the rest of the Company, everything was as if nothing had happened. All the dwarves were packed, hiking along the path leaving Rivendell.

"Be on your guard; we're about to step over the edge of the wild", advised their king, "Balin, you know these paths, lead on."

"Aye", nodded the other dwarf. Bilbo turned around, looking back at Rivendell in longing.

"Master Baggins, I suggest you keep up", Thorin looked at him with a stern gaze and, reluctantly, Bilbo pulled away from Rivendell and followed behind the dwarves.

The dwarves trudged through the wilderness of Eriador, with the Misty Mountains plain in the distance, capped with snow. Over ranges, rivers, and waterfalls theypassed, silent with determination. Slowly, their path became higher and higher, looming overthe fields below. The Misty Mountains grew nearer with everystep. Finally, the Company found themselves climbing the vast mountain range, through rock and snow, framed against theblue sky behind them. A fierce storm raged in the air with lightning striking here and there, and rain poured down on them without mercy. Thorin lead the dwarves across a narrow, dangerous trail on the side of the mountain. A cliff lied on one side of the path, with a sheer drop on the other.

"Hold on!", yelled their leader over the sound of the thunder. The dwarves carefully made their way across the ridge, half-drowned in rain. As Bilbo walked, the stone beneath him gave away, but Dwalin managed to catch the hobbit in the nick of time, "We must find shelter!", Dwalin pointed up, looking at something in thedistance.

"LOOK OUT!", a massive boulder hurtled through the air. It hitsthe mountainside above the dwarves, sending rocks crumblingdown around them as they pressed themselves against themountain. Balin stepped forward, and mimicked his brother.

"This is no thunder storm! It's a thunder battle! Look!", and they did. A massive stone giant reared up from a nearbymountain. It ripped a giant chunk of stone from the top of themountain.

"Well, bless me! The legends are true! Giants; stone giants!", said Fili.

The stone giant threw the rock across the valley. It crashed into another stone giant, rising from the mountain side. The dwarves watched, caught in the middle. Thorin urged them to take cover and they tried, but the debris began to fall over the Company once more. The dwarves held onto the mountainside as the ground beneaththem began to crack and split, separating them.

"Kili, grab my hand! Kili!", Kili and Fili had been separated, and the older brother was in a panic as his brother, Oin, Gloin and Thorin began to drift away from the others.

They were standing on the knees of a third stone giant, who raised slowly to the fight. The second stone giantlumbered over, headbutting the third giant. As the giant fell backwards, Bilbo, and thedwarves were sent tumbling forwards and backwards, hanging onto the mountainside for dear life. Thorin, Oin, Gloin and Kili managed to jump onto the still side of the mountain, but the third giant rose back up again. Slowly, the second threw a punch, sending it falling back into its place on the mountain. Thorin and the others watched, helpless, as the restof the Company was seemingly crushed between the stone.

"NO!", yelled Thorin, the cold feeling of powerlessness evaded him. He ran forward across the ledge, along the path, and found them alive and well, and accompanied. Mäetharanel glared up at him, and the ones besides her appeared ashamed.

"How good it is to see you, my King", said the elf, her voice empty, her eyes angry. The king's shoulders, that had been relaxed seconds ago, became tense once again.

"It's alright! They're alive!", yelled Gloin to the others. Fili scanned the mountainside still on the ground, there was no sign  of Bilbo.

"Where's Bilbo?", asked the prince, but he quickly found him, dangling off the side of the cliff, "There!", and they clamoured around the cliff, trying to pull him up. In the end, it was Thorin who swung down on the cliff next to Bilbo andboosted him up. The others hauled him onto the ledge, and Thorinclimbed up behind him.

"I thought we'd lost our burglar", Dwalin appeared relieved, making sure to stay away from their elf.

"He's been lost ever since he left home. He should have never come. He has no place amongst us", the leader spoke in anger, before turning to his kin "now, we must find shelter."

"It seems he is not the only one who has no place amongst you", said the elf while passing by them and leading the front. Balin simply let her.

"Mäeth-", Fili began, but she interrupted him.

"Shush, Fili", and everyone followed after her, quietly.

Eventually, they found a cave. Dwalin inspected it and came back to them, nodding. Everything was clear.

"Search to the back; caves in mountains are seldom unoccupied", noted Thorin. And Dwalin did it, with a lantern. After a brief investigation, he returned to them.

"There's nothing here", after the confirmation, Gloin dropped a bundle of wood on the floor and grinned while rubbinghis hands together.

"Right then! Let's get a fire started", but Thorin shook his head.

"No. No fires, not in this place. Get some sleep. We start at first light", said their king while setting up his sleeping place.

"We were to wait in the mountains until Gandalf joined us. That was the plan", said Balin, but his cousin simply looked at him.

Outside the safety of their cave, more danger was much closer than they thought. In the valleys before the Misty Mountains, a white warg sniffed the ground; Azog was on its back. 

"The scent is fresh!", informed the leader of the pack, "They have taken the mountain pass", and he and the rest of the scouts resumed their path.

"Plans change. Fili, the first watch is yours", the younger dwarf nodded and sat down, while the others nestled in their makeshift pillows.

From the corner of the cave, Bilbo opened his eyes. Seeing that no one was awake, he quietly rolled up his blankets and packed his things and made for the cave entrance. Fili saw him and jumped up.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Back to Rivendell", he truly thought it to be the best option, after all.

"No, no, you can't turn back now, you're part of the company", uncle would be livid if he found out their burglar had left during the night, "You're one of us!"

"I'm not though, am I?", he smiled at Fili,  "Thorin said I should never have come, and he was right. I'm not a Took, I'm a Baggins, I don't know what I was thinking. I should have never ran out my door", Thorin, awake, stared thoughtfully at the walls, listening.

"You're homesick; I understand-"

"No, you don't! You don't understand, none of you do - you're dwarves!", Bilbo was visibly upset, "You're used to this life, to living on the road, never settling in one place, not belonging anywhere", now that had offended Fili, slightly. Bilbo gave him an apologetic look, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean -", but the other shook his head, and looked down at his sleeping companions.

"No, you're right. We don't belong anywhere", and then he looked at the hobbit once again, "I wish you all the luck in the world. I really do", beaming, Fili placed his hand on Bilbo's shoulder. They exchanged one final look, before Bilbo turned around to the exit.

"Bilbo, sleep. Now", he stiffened as the elf's voice was heard, ordering him. Slowly, she sat down and began taking her weapons out, "We have a long path ahead of us."

"I, I-"

"You are going to make your bed again and sleep", she took a rag from her pocket, "If you're sleepy, it won't do any of us any good, will it?", and she began cleaning while looking at him, who just stood there, in the entrance of the cave.

"Mäetharanel, you should rest", it seemed Thorin was wake too.

"You lost the right to look after me the moment you turned your back and left me in Rivendell", said the woman while cleaning her weapons, as if she spoke of the weather.

"You were in your home, how could we take you with us? You belong there", said Kili and she glared.

"That was not my home, Kili, my home is very far from Lothlórien", she stopped cleaning and turned towards Dwalin and Balin that had sat up, the others were snoring still, "Whatever it is you think of me, you may forget it; I never meant to be a bother."

"We never thought that!", Fili seemed to be in shock.

"I have fought countless battles!", her voice rose slightly and she seemed furious, "I have fought with you before, I've felt part of you for so long, and now you do this!? What other reason is there?", she threw the blade in her hand to the ground.

"We merely wished for you to finally be among your kin!", defended Balin.

"If I wanted to be with my kin, I would have gone back to them, Balin!"

"We made a mistake, alright? We believed we were looking after you", and she laughed drily at Dwalin.

"You found an opportunity and took advantage of it", Thorin stiffened.

"Don't you dare, Mäetharanel, you have no right-"

"No, Thorin, YOU have no right", she could try to hide the saddness, but he knew her, "You, above everyone else, have no right to leave me behind. None. I know it was you who gave the final answer to this", she shook her head, "Do I still disgust you? After so much time? After everything I've done?"

"Now, you're just being unreasonable, we have told you why we left without you", sweet Balin whom she'd always listen to could not reach her.

"You teached me your language", she looked at Balin, "And you helped me train, you teached me your battle tatics", Dwalin frowned when their eyes met, "I pratically am part of your family, by the Valar, I can say I helped you in your duties and that I fought until the end so you wouldn't have to come if you were not prepared", Kili looked down, "And you, Fili", the blonde looked at her, "I though you cannot stay away from me?", he sighed deeply and began twisting his moustache, "You left me behind, and that is something I will never forget. I am a grown elf, I have been for a long time, even before your King was born", she had spat out the word, "Don't you think the disgust you felt for me was returned? It was. I too hold things against your race, but I put it all behind me and gave us a chance, one that was rewarded with good results. Or so I thought."

"But it was!", Kili began feeling desperate, "We're here, aren't we?"

"Because I came after you!", she stood up, "Because I came after you and do you know how it felt when I saw your brother and the others almost being crushed!?", she hissed between gritted teeth. Silence. No one dared to answer her, "I began believing I was part of you, and that was my first mistake", she chuckled lowly, "It was my fault, really. I should have never-"

"Bilbo, what's that?", Fili, wanting nothing more than to end the discussion, noticed the blade in Bilbo's hips shining, and when the hobbit pulled his sword partway out of its sheath it glowed blue.  Suddenly, strange mechanical noises came from the ground. Thorin raised his head, seeing the sandy ground beneath him crack apart.

"Wake up! Wake up!", he quickly went to Mäetharanel's side and grabbed her hand, right before the cave floor collapsed downwards. The entire Company sailed down a chute, sliding through tunnels and passages. The dwarves screamed as they were thrown downwards, but Mäetharanel just jumped inside the wooden cage they were now in.

While trying to raise, the struggling company was attacked by a horde of goblins. The creatures viciously took their weapons, pushing them forwards. The dwarves attempted to fight back, to no avail. Around five of them had to battle their elven companion for her own weapons, but upon noticing how they began to take the others far away, she gave up. While they were led away, Bilbo crouched out of sight and the passing goblins did not even spare him a glance. Oin looked over his shoulder and saw Bilbo, but before he could do anything, the goblins pushed him forward.

Bilbo scampered to hide behind the railing while watching the goblins proceed through the darkness. Drawing out his sword, he follows behind the goblin's path, unseen. Suddenly, a single goblin jumped out in front of him, armed with a dagger. Steel met steel, and Bilbo barely managed to keep himself alive as the goblin leaped on top of Bilbo, biting into his shoulder. Bilbo staggered back, falling over the railings. Together, Bilbo and the goblin fell through the dark chasm, screaming.

With the rest of the company, they were being lead down a vast network of tunnels and wooden bridges. Thousands of other goblins looked on, snarling. They were led into a massive throne room and brought to the feet of the Great Goblin who, with a wheeze and a cough, lounged on his throne. The creature, much larger and uglier than the rest watched as the goblins piled the dwarves' weapons together. The Great Goblin leaped from his throne, leaning on a skull-topped mace for support.

"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom? Spies? Thieves? Assassins?", questioned the large being, while leaning forward to them. His second in command, Grinnah, stepped forward.

"Dwarves, your malevolence", answered the smaller one.

"Dwarves?"

"And an elf. We found them on the Front Porch."

"And an elf!? Well, don't just stand there! Search them! Every crack, every crevice",  The goblins rushed forward, searching thoroughly. Whatever they found, the goblins threw on the ground and destroyed. One particular goblin grabbed Oin's hearing trumpet and crushed it underfoot.

"What are you doing in these parts?", the dwarves hesitated. The Great Goblin grinned, being difficult were they?

"Very well, if they will not talk, we'll make them squawk! Bring out the mangler! Bring out the bone breaker! Start with the youngest", he points to Kili. Thorin, holding his elf's shaking hand, quickly steps forward.

"Wait!", yelled the leader.

"Well, well, well, look who it is! Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under The Mountain", the Great Goblin gave a mocking bow.

"Do not mock those that could seriously harm you, goblin scum", hissed out Mäetharanel.

"My, my! What a great treasure my servants have found! Mäetahranel, daughter of-"

"Quiet, you-", Dwalin quickly held her back, and Balin brought her to his height so he could whisper in her ear.

"Oh, but I'm forgetting, you", he smirked to Mäeth, "ran away from your home. And you", he turned to Thorin, "don't have a mountain. And you're not a king. Which makes you nobody, really", ignoring the fuming elf, he kept on mocking Thorin, "But I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just the head, nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak. Perhaps you know of whom I speak, an old enemy of yours. A Pale Orc astride a White Warg", he smirked disgustingly.

"Azog the Defiler was destroyed. He was slain in battle long ago.", answered the the king in disbelief while the other dwarves looked shocked. The Great Goblin chuckled at their surprise and turned to the tiny goblin scribe, sitting in a basket.

"So you think his defiling days are done, do you?", the goblin laughed, and turned to face a tiny goblin sitting in a basket and holding a slate "Send word to the Pale Orc; tell him I have found his prize.", ordered the larger goblin while watching the elf crouching down to touch Thorin's hand and whispering to him, "How low you have fallen, lady Mäetharanel", she glared at him, but kept on speaking with the dwarf. The scribe wrote down the message and cackling, he pulled a lever and sailed off into the dark caverns below.

The hobbit lied in a clump of mushrooms slowlt reagaining counsciousness. The goblin he dueled lied further off, gasping for breath. Out of the darkness, a strange figure approached, walking on all fours, it crawled to the goblin.

"Yes, yes, yes!", it began coughing, "Gollum. Gollum", Bilbo stayed hidden behind the mushrooms while he watched 'Gollum' circle around the goblin. Gollum dragged the goblin by its feet when suddenly, it springs to life, grabbing it. In response, Gollum grasped a nearby rock, and pounded it against the goblin's head. As it beat down on the goblin, a golden ring fell out of it's loin cloth. It landed on the ground with a soft thud. The goblin fell backwards, knocked out, and Gollum continued to pull it away, not that Bilbo was paying any mind to it, for the ring had taken all his attention, "Nasty goblinses. Better than old bones, precious. Better than nothing!"

Gollum went around a corner, out of sight. Once he was gone, Bilbo jumped out of the mushroom patch and retrieved his sword that still glowed blue. By the light of the sword, Bilbo saw the Ring below him. Intrigued, he picked it up and examined it before being startled by Gollum, who had began mouning in the distance. Without a second thought, Bilbo dropped the Ring in his pocket while following the sound of the creature's voice.

"Too many boneses, precious. Not enough flesh!", who was it talking to?, "Shut up! Get its skin off. Start with its head", was it answering itself? Bilbo creeped around the corner. He saw Gollum, silhouetted on top of an outcropping rock in the middle of a small lake. It sang joyfully as it beatted the goblin.

"The cold hard lands, they bites our hands, they gnaws our feet. The rocks and stones, they're like old bones, all bare of meat. Cold as death, they have no breath, its good to eat!", the goblin woke once more, but Gollum was too quick for him. He smashed in the goblin's head with another stone, but then it looked up and saw the glow of Bilbo's sword. Panicked, Bilbo dives behind a boulder. The light of his sword slowly flickered away, which meant the goblin was dead. Peering over at Gollum's rock with caution, the hobbit saw the other gone. Gollum, mounted on a small, wooden boat, used his hands as paddles as he swam across the lake. Bilbo, still hidden behind the rock, breaths quickly. He was afraid. From behind him, there was a scuffling noise and as he turned to look up, he found the creature going up the rock. He jumped down, and gave Bilbo a toothy grin, "Bless us and splash us, precious! That's a meaty mouthful!", crawling towards the hobbit, who pointed the tip of his sword at Gollum's throat, he quickly retreated, "Gollum. Gollum", it coughed once more. The ginger analysed him clearly for the first time. It was very thin, with white skin, bulging eyes and almost no hair.

"Back! Stay back! I'm warning you, don't come any closer", despite his shaking, Bilbo rose and pointed the blade down at Gollum.

"It's got an elvish blade, but its not an elfs. Not an elfs, no",  Gollum squinted up at Bilbo, perplexed, "What is it, precious? What is it?"

"My name is Bilbo Baggins", it was obvious to Bilbo, that the creature had some type of mental problem.

"Bagginses? What is a Bagginses, precious?"

"I'm a hobbit, from the Shire."

"Oh! We like goblinses, batses and fishes, but we haven't tried hobbitses before. Is it soft? Is it juicy?",  Gollum stepped closer to Bilbo, mouth watering. Bilbo held out his sword, waving it wildly about.

"Now, now, keep your distance! I'll use this if I have to!", warned the hobbit while retreating again. Gollum snarled loudly, making it echoe inside the cave, "I don't want any trouble, do you understand? Just show me the way to get out of here, and I'll be on my way!"

"Why? Is it lost?", wondered the creature.

"Yes, yes, and I want to be unlost as soon as possible", Gollum's face lightned up.

"Oh! We knows! We knows safe paths for hobbitses. Safe paths in the dark", but his face quickly changed, "Shut up!" Bilbo frowned.

"I didn't say anything."

"Wasn't talking to you", it answered gruffly, crouching behind an outcropping stone, "Well, yes, we was, precious, we was", it answered, once more, to itself.

"Look, I don't know what your game is, but I-", suddenly, it leaped onto the stone, excited.

"Games? We love games, doesn't we, precious?", it turned to Bilbo, "Does it like games? Does it? Does it? Does it like to play?"

"Maybe?", he raised an eyebrow, very, very confused. The other held up his hand and began to recite a riddle.

"What has roots as nobody sees, is taller than trees. Up, up, up it goes, and yet never grows",  Bilbo took some time to think it over.

"The mountain", it nodded and let out a breathless laugh.

"Yes, yes! Oh, let's have another one. Come on, do it again, do it again! Ask us!", it's face contorted, "NO! No more riddles! Finish him off! Finish him now! Gollum! Gollum!", and as it began lunging at Bilbo, he held up a hand.

"No! No! I want to play, I do. I can see that you are very good at this. So, why don't we have a game of riddles? Yes? Just you and me", he gave a shaken smile, but the face of Gollum became happy and excited.

"Just us?"

"Yes. Yes. And if I win, you show me the way out", growling, it turned away and crouched behind a stone, speaking to itself.

"And if it loses? What then?", came the gruff voice, "If it loses, precious, then we eats it", it seemed to be smiling? It popped out form behind the stone, "If Baggins loses, we eats it whole", Bilbo paused, digesting this information. Reluctantly, he began to sheath his sword.

"Fair enough", nodded the hobbit.

"Well, Baggins first", Gollum looked up at him, expectant.

"Thirty white horses on a red hill. First they champ, then they stamp, then they stand still",  It thought long and hard, but finally it replies.

"Teeth?", Bilbo seemed unhappy, it was correct, "Teeth! Yes, my precious!", it laughed, victorious, "But we, we only have nine", and with it's mouth wide open, displaying his nine teeth, Bilbo stared in disgusted, "Our turn. Voiceless it cries, wingless flutter, toothless bites, mouthless mutters", there was the othe riddle. It creeped forward, unsettling Bilbo, who tried his best to keep a rock between the two of them.

"Just a minute", the ginger walked off to the side of the lake, thinking. Suddenly, his opponent became excited.

"Oh, we knows! We knows!", it jumped up and down with a big smile, before stopping and growling, "Shut up!", Bilbo watched the lake water, still thinking. A sogt breeze ruffled the surface of the water and he grinned.

"Wind. It's wind. Of course it is!", Gollum growled, furious.

"Very clever, hobbitses, very clever", it clambered forward, snarling. Bilbo unsheathed his sword, pointing it down at Gollum.

"A box without hinges, key or lid, yet golden treasure inside is hid",  Gollum turned around, muttering to himself.

"Box... and a lid, then a key...", Bilbo interrupted his thinking.

"Well?"

"It's nasty", it paced up and down the slab of rock. Bilbo loomed over him, triumphant.

"Give up?", taunted the hobbit.

"Give us a chance, precious, give us a chance!", frustrated, it pounded down at the floor. It puckered it's face, deep in furious thought, then it oppened it's eyes and smiled.

"Eggses!", Bilbo frowned. The insane creature was smarter than it appeared, it has gotten right yet another riddle, "Eggses! Wet, crunchy, little eggses. Grandmother tought us to suck them, yes!", then a bat squeals in the distance, startling Bilbo who looked around for the bat. He looked back down and Gollum was gone, but it's voice echoes from across the cave.

"We have one for you. All things it devours, birds, beasts, trees and flowers. Gnaws iron, bites steel, grinds hards stone to meal", Bilbo paced around the rock, sword raised defensively. Eyebrows furrowed, he thought to solve the riddle, "Answer us!"

"Give me a moment, please! I gave you a good long while", said he while walking in circles around the slab, shaking his head, "I don't know this one."

"Is it tasty? Is it scrumptious?", sang the creature, when out of nowhere, Gollum appeared behind Bilbo and grabs his neck, "Is it crunchable?" Bilbo jumped away, aiming his sword straight at Gollum.

"Let me think. Let me think", he was feeling the sweat coming from his body, the stress began appearing. Perhaps betting his life was not the smartest decision... Slowly, he backed away. Gollum watched with a grin.

"It's stuck. Bagginses is stuck", Bilbo paced back and forth, frustrated, "Time's up", it gave an eerie smile. Bilbo turned around, a grin wide on his face.

"Time. The answer is time", he cleared his throat, "Actually, it wasn't that hard", Gollum growled.

"Last question. Last chance", Behind it's back, Gollum grasped onto a rock. Bilbo didn't notice, too busy thinking of a riddle, "Ask us. Ask us!"

"Yes, yes, all right", he strolled to the edge of the bank while absentmindedly rubbing his pocket. He felt the Ring inside, "What have I got in my pocket?"

"That's not fair. That's not fair, it's against the rules!", it throws down the rock in it's fury. Bilbo looked at it, startled, "Ask us another one!", Bilbo stepped closer, shaking his head.

"No, no, no. You said, 'ask me a question'. Well, I did. What have I got in my pocket?"

"Three guesses, precious. It must give us three!", now it was the one distressed.

"Three guesses. Very well, guess away."

"Handses", Bilbo pulled his hands out just in time.

"Wrong, guess again", he smirked while Gollum crouched to the floor, muttering to itself. In frustration, it slapped the ground in increasing anger.

"Knife!", it turned around pointing a finger, before his face became scrouched, "Oh, shut up!"

"Wrong again. Last guess", he had to lose. Bilbo needed to get back to his friends.

"String! Or nothing", it was both excited and determined.

"Two guesses at once. Wrong, both times", Gollum fell to the floor, crying in it's defeat. Bilbo loomed over him, victorious, "Come on then, I won the game. You promised to show me the way out", it stood to it's feet, back turned.

"Did we say so, precious? Did we say so?", slowly, Gollum turned around, glaring up at Bilbo, "What has it got in its pocketses?"

"That's no concern of yours. You lost", reminded the hobbit. Gollum grinned as it approached Bilbo while reaching for something hidden at it's side. Its face registered in shock. Whatever it was looking for, it was not there.

"Where is it? Where is it? No! No! No!", Gollum scuttled around the cave, scattering bones and rocks as it searched in vain, "Lost! Curses and splashes, my precious is lost!", then it dawned on Bilbo. He took the Ring from his pocket and hide it behind his back.

"What have you lost?"

"Musn't ask us! Not its business! Gollum, gollum!", Gollum leaned over the edge of the lake, sobbing. It stared at its reflection, and slowly its cries begin to cease. Gollum's face became contorted in anger, "What has it got in its nasty, little pocketses?", Bilbo's grasp around the Ring tightened. Slowly, Gollum turned to look at Bilbo, whose face was pale with shock, "He stole it. He stole it! HE STOLE IT!", snarling, Gollum threw a stoneat Bilbo who managed to deflect it with his sword, and run off, deeper into the tunnels. 

Gollum chased after him, roaring.

Chapter Text

Dozens of goblins carried massive instruments of torture into the throne room. The Great Goblin pranced around his throne, singing a horrenduos sound that made them wish they were as deaf as Oin.

"Bones will be shattered, necks will be wrung. You'll be beaten and battered, from racks you'll be hung. You will die down here and never be found, down in the deep of Goblin Town!", Grinnah examined the dwarves' weapons, starting with Orcrist. He slided it a few inches from its sheath, before recognizing the sword. He gasped in horror and threw down the sword that landed in view of the other goblins. They howled in fear.

"I know that sword! It is the Goblin Cleaver! The Biter! The blade that sliced a thousand necks!", as it speaks, Grinnah and it's men begin whipping and beating the dwarves to the ground, Mäeth tried to shake them off her, but they were too many, "Slash them! Beat them! Kill them! Kill them all!", he then pointed to Thorin, "Cut off his head!", goblins held Thorin down, raising a knife high above his head.

"Let him go!", Mäetharanel yelled and was about to kick them off when suddenly, there was a vast explosion of white light that made her cover her face with her arms, and go several steps back. The goblins and the torture machines went flying, while the dwarves were knocked to the ground. The explosion passed and a shadow was framed against the dim light. It was Gandalf, armed with sword and staff. Slowly, the dwarves and the goblins recovered from the shockwave and all eyes turned to the wizard.

"Take up arms. Fight. Fight!", the dwarves jumped to their feet, fending off the goblins. Gandalf sliced through the oncoming goblins like butter. The Great Goblin pointed to Gandalf's sword, trembling.

"He wields the Foe-Hammer. The Beater, bright as daylight!", The dwarves and Mäetharanel managed to reach their weapons.

Axes, swords and hammers were tossed from this dwarf to that dwarf. Together, they charged into battle, shouting war cries. Kili sliced through goblins, spraying black blood as they fell to his feet, dead. In his haste, the prince tripped over the bodies and fell to the floor. The Great Goblin rose to it's feet and charged forward, bringing the mace it held down on him. Thorin and the elf intervened, deflecting the Great Goblin's blow and cutting into his arm. With a frightned howl, it falls backwards and off of the platform. It goes sailing down into the abyss below, screaming like the coward it was. The dwarves butchered the goblins, fighting with great severity. Gandalf approached the Company, urgent.

"Follow me! Quick! Run!", Gandalf and the others sprinted out of the throne room while herds of goblins chased after them.

"There's a whole maze out there, Mithrandir!", the dwarves and Mäetharanel ran after the wizard, "We must go out!", Gandalf takes them through a path that had a section suspended by ropes, that were cut after every one of them crossed.

More goblins appeared and immediatly tried to attack the elf. Being done with the attacks, Mäetharanel grabbed Kili's bow and began shooting at the ones still coming while kicking the ones that approached her.

"Mäeth!", yelled Dori, and she ran after them once more.

"The nerve to attack the taller one... I can see you before you appear. Idiots", she held one of them by the neck, broke it, and then threw it out. Giving the bow back to the younger heir, all while running, she chuckled, "By the Valar, you are really small", Kili glared up at her but she rustled his hair and ran forward, so she was near Gandalf.

"I'M TALLER THAN MOST DWARVES!", laughing, Mäeth sliced another goblin, and stayed back so all the dwarves could cross the bridge they had found, until the Great Goblin appeared once more, from underneath the bridge and pulled himself up onto it, in front of the Company. As the Company pauses, hundreds of goblins approach them from all sides.

"You thought you could escape me?", glared the ugly thing, swinging his mace twice. Gandalf, the one at the front stumbled back and almost fell, "What are you going to do now, wizard?", but Mithrandir had the quick reaction to poke it in the eye with his staff, "Ow, ow ow!", the goblin let his mace fall to hold his face, in pain. This allowed the wizard to slice his belly, and letting go of his face, the goblin King fell to his knees, holding the wound, "That'll do it", said he, after looking down at the Grey, that sliced his neck, killing him finally.

But he was too much heavy for the structure they were in. The bridge began shaking, and the section of the bridge the Company was in broke. Yelling, the dwarves and the other two slided down the side of the cavern, alarmingly fast, holding onto the falling bridge. Mäetharanel, who held onto Nori and Dori felt faint. The bridge finally fell and they were underneath timber and wood. Gandalf emerges from it, inspecting everyone else, still stuck.

"That could've been worse", the elf, while glaring at Bofur, stood up and looked around and up. Stiffening, she jumped away from the wreckage, and the Great Goblin's corpse fell where the dwarves were, squishing them.

"You've got to be joking", yelled Dwalin. Secons later, he and the rest of the Company began trying to get out of the rubble, when Kili looked up and saw thousands of goblins running at them. Panicking, he looked at the wizard.

"Gandalf!", the wizard stiffened and looked up.

"They're too many, we can't fight them!", Dwalin, who had just coordinated part of the fight, said.

"Only one thing will save us: daylight! Come on! Here, on your feet!", instructed Mäeth. The dwarves got up quickly, helping each other out of the rubble, and they ran away, following Gandalf and the elf.

Back to the ginger haired hobbit, he hurried down the tunnels, sword at his side. Gollum shouted from the distance.

"Give it to us!", Bilbo dived into a cave on his left, panting. He saw Gollum crawl past the entrance and, relieved, Bilbo made for a crack in the cave wall. He squeezed through the cranny, however, his shirt buttons catched along the edges and he became stuck. From outside, Gollum backtracks, and locked eyes with Bilbo. It snarled, and rushes into the cave, "It's ours! It's ours!"

Bilbo exhaled and pushed as hard as he could. He managed to fit through the crack, but his brass buttons rip off his waistcost and rain down on an irritated Gollum. Bilbo made it to the other side of the tunnels. Unfortunately, he tripped on some pebbles and fell flat on his back making the Ring fly out of his hands, and into the air. As it descended, Bilbo reached to grab it. The Ring slided onto his finger, casting him invisible. Bilbo watched as Gollum leaped into the cave, looking around for Bilbo, confused. In Bilbo's state of vision, everything was blurred and colorless.

"Thief! Baggins!", Gollum roared, the sound seemed to be compressed. He darted off, going deeper into the tunnels. Bilbo gets to his feet, amazed. As it leaps into the final tunnel, light is seen through the exit of the cave. Sunrise, at last!, "Wait, my precious! Wait! Gollum, Gollum", coughed the creature.

Still invisible, Bilbo approached Gollum, sword drawn. He watched as Gollum peered out of the tunnel exit, distressed. Suddenly, shuffling footsteps sounded from nearby making Gollum rush back into the tunnel, and hide out of sight. The footsteps come closer, and closer, until Bilbo gets a clear look; It is Gandalf, followed by the dwarves and the elf. He lead them out of the tunnel, urgently barking commands. Bilbo watched them, frantic.

Gandalf and the others rushed down the vast mountainside, with sunlight slowly creeping over the top of the trees. Gollum turned, looking back at the exit. Bilbo stood behind it, sword drawn, raised high above its head. Gollum turned back around. Although he cannot see him, Gollum stared straight at Bilbo, who gripped his sword, hesitating. Salty tears began to well in Gollum's eyes and for a second, he seemed almost human. Out of pity, Bilbo lowered his sword and took a deep breath before stepping back. Gollum began to snarl, he heard him. Bilbo runned forward and leaped over Gollum, knocking it down in the process. Bilbo fled out of the exit, into the daylight. Enraged, Gollum jumped to its feet and scrablled around itself, grabbing for Bilbo.

"Baggins! Thief! Curse it and crush it, we hates it forever!", it's voie echoed all around the moutain. Still invisible, Bilbo bolted down the mountainside, hot on the dwarves' trail.

Far ahead of Bilbo, Gandalf stopped to count the dwarves as they catch up. Mäetharanel came behind them, panting and holding her side that hurt from the effort. Wincing, she rubbed at her ribs and groaned. Her cardio was not so bad before!

"Nine, ten, eleven, Gloin, that's twelve. And Dwalin, that makes thirteen..." Gandalf looked around for Bilbo, "Where's Bilbo? Where is our hobbit?", none of the dwarves answer.

"I have not seen him for awhile now", answered Mäetharanel, appearing tired. Bilbo had caught up with the others, still invisble. He stood behind a tree, listening.

"Where is our hobbit?", repeated the Grey.

"Curse the halfling! Now he's lost!", complained Dwalin.

"I thought he was with Dori!", said Gloin

"Don't blame me!", Dori tried to step out of the deal, seeming ofended that they had even mentioned his name.

"Well, where did you last see him?", asked Gandalf. Poor Bilbo couldn't have stayed back there...

"I think I saw him slip away when they fist cornered us", came Nori's voice.

"What happened exactly? Tell me!", Gandalf became greatly discontent, almost panicked.

"I'll tell you what happened", Thorin walked closer to him, looking into his eyes, "Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it. He's thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door", the others either looked down or nodded, "We will not be seeing our hobbit again. He is long gone", Bilbo, who listened to everything leaned against the tree, crushed with saddness. The dwarves looked at one another, and the hobbit decided to show himself.

"No, he isn't", Bilbo had taken the ring out and stepped out from behind the tree.

"Bilbo Baggins! I've never been so glad to see anyone in my life!", the dwarves appeared surprised, Gandalf's face had lit up and the elf smiled and leaned against a tree. Affectionately, the small man pat Balin's shoulder.

"Bilbo! We'd given you up!", Kili seemed happy.

"How on earth did you get past the goblins!?", Fili approached him, very curious to hear how it had happened.

"How, indeed", mumbled Dwalin, looking at the hobbit in suspicion. Bilbo laughs nervously and as he slipped the Ring into his pocket, Gandalf noticed, and became perturbed, but said nothing.

"Well, what does it matter? He's back", Gandalf smiles.

"It matters. I want to know; why did you come back?", Mäetharanel sighed.

"Thorin, it's fine, let him be", he shook his head.

"It's fine, Mäeth", she glanced at him, but he turned to their leader, "Look, I know you doubt me. I know you always have. And you're right. I often think of Bag End. I miss my books, and my armchair, and my garden. See, that's where I belong. That's home", he smiled gently at the tall dwarf, "And you don't have one, a home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can", the dwarves were taken aback. Slowly, it dawned on them; Bilbo cared. Gandalf, impressed, shared a warm smile with the hobbit.

Looming above the Company, a troop of orcs rode to the edge of the cliff. At the head of the pack stood Azog, atop his white warg. He turned to the Orcs behind him and pointed forward.

"Irz ul ghaamul! karg ul u!*", At his call, his troop raced down the cliffside, mounted on jet black wargs. The dwarves jumped up, hearing the howls. Thorin looked to Gandalf, wide eyed.

"Out of the frying pan-", began the King, while looking around him.

"And into the fire. Run. Run!", Gandalf wheeled around, leading Bilbo, Mäetharanel and the dwarves down the face of the mountain. Azogand his riders chased after them. The Company darted across grassland and streams. Gandalf lead the way, yards ahead of the others.

They all start running down the mountain as fast as they can. The Wargs follow them rapidly; everything happened so fast, that nighttime was now upon them. Soon the foremost Warg catches up to the group and leapped at Bilbo; Bilbo ducked behind a rock and the Warg's jaws snapped in the air over his head. The Warg landed in front of him. Growling, it charged at him. Bilbo pulls out his sword and holds it in front of him, scared; the charging Warg impaled itself in the head on the sword and fell down dead. Bilbo looked on in surprise. It had worked, he had killed the warg.

A few more Wargs catched up to the fleeing dwarves, but they were quickly dispatched. The Company reached a large outcropping of land with a few trees growing on it; they are trapped there, as there is no way off the outcropping besides a great fall down the mountain. Mäetharanel ventured into the side and cursed.

"There is no way we will survive this fall", looking back, she gasped, the orcs were almost there. Gandalf began giving instructions.

"Up into the trees, all of you! Come on, climb! Bilbo, climb!", he looked up at the princess, already almost on top of the tree, scouting to see if more orcs were coming after the others. Her eyes wide, she noticed her lover's old enemy was the one at the front. Azog lived.

"Shit", mumbled the elf. Bifur threw an axe, killing a Warg which was approaching him. Bofur jumpped off a rock and grabbed a tree branch, using Dwalin's head as a stepping stone to the tree. Other dwarves began climbing into the trees as well. Bilbo tried to pull his sword out of the dead Warg's head, but it is stuck firmly.

"Bilbo!", yelled Mäeth, and he quickly looked back at her, while still trying to get his sword.~

"They're coming!",

Gandalf climbsed to the top of the furthest tree; Dwalin boosted Balin up. Thorin, Bombur, and the rest climbed up trees too. The main body of Wargs and Warg Riders finally appear. Bilbo, who had finally managed to pull his sword out of the Warg, looked up to see several more Wargs running at him. He quickly clambered up a tree as the Wargs rushed below him. Dozens of Wargs circled the trees in which the Company members were perched. Gandalf reached out with his staff and picked up a moth sitting in the same tree as him. Bringing the moth close to his

face, he whispered to it; he then blew it gently, causing it to flutter away. The Wargs ceased their growling and turned as the White Warg, with Azog on its back, approached slowly. Thorin looks at Azog in shock.

"Azog?", as his White Warg growled, Azog stroked it and talked ominously. Mäetharanel looked down at the top of Thorin's head with sad eyes.

"Nuzdigid? Nuzdi gast?*", the orc leader leaned forward and smirked, speaking loud enough so they'd hear, "Ganziligi unarug obod nauzdanish, Torin undag Trainob*", Thorin looked stricken with pain and grief. Azog had captured his father.

"It cannot be", whispered the son, understanding his father was no more. Clicking her tongue, Mäetharanel lets herself fall to the trunk next to his and glares down at the orc, chin held high.

"Make him proud", turning to look at his One, she noticed how Thorin had aged a lot in mere seconds, "Thrain. Make him proud, Thorin."

"Kod, Toragid biriz", said Azog, while pointing with his sword, attached to his arm, "Wororida!"

At his command, the Wargs leaped forward and tried to climb the trees. They jumped as high as they could, scrabbling at the tree trunks and breaking apart branches in their jaws in their efforts. The trees shaked violently at the assault, and the dwarves struggled to hold on. Glaring, the princess reached for her own bow and redied it. About to unleash the arrow, another one stopped hers from even leaving. Shocked, she stared at the orc that had done it. Azog laughed.

"Sho gad adol!", ordered the pale orc.

The tree they were in fell with the strength of the wargs, and the others they jumped to began falling as well. Only the tree that stood near the end of the cliff managed to hold them. Looking around in desperation, Gandalf saw a pinecone. Grabbing it, he used his staff to set the pinecone on fire; he then threw it down amid the Wargs, who retreated in fear of the fire. Azog is startled and angry at the unexpected resistance and growls. Gandalf lighted two more pinecones and threw one down to Fili.

"Fili!", warned the wizard. Mäetharanel watched as the vegetation began catching on fire and her throat dried. Closing her eyes tightly, she too received a pincone, and threw it. The smell of burning wood would certainly trigger her lover and the others.

Fili catched the pinecone. Bilbo and the dwarves gathered pinecones and Gandalf set them on fire; they then threw the flaming pinecones like missiles at the Wargs. All the area around the tree gets set on fire, forcing the Wargs to retreat a distance. At least one Warg galloped away with its fur alight. Azog roared in anger and frustration as the dwarves cheered. Suddenly, their cheers turned into cries of fear as the roots of the tree they are in started to give way; the tree tipped precariously over the edge of the cliff, but came to a rest sticking straight out away from the edge of the cliff. Gandalf looked down and saw the ground far, far, below. The princess had been right, that was one huge fall. The dwarves tried to hold on as they gott flung around. Ori lost his grip on the tree and fell, but managed to grab on to Dori's leg.

"Aahhh! Oh! Oh no!", yelled the panicked younger Ri brother.

"Ori!", Mäetharanel made to go and grab the dwarf, but stumbled back and stiffened. She couldn't move from there.

"Mister Gandalf!", called out Dori, fearful for his brothers fate. Because of the extra weight, Dori lost his grip on the tree as well and fell, but Gandalf quickly swung his staff down and he grabbed on to the end of it, "Hold on, Ori!"

Azog growled; the two dwarves had not fallen. Thorin, clinging to the tree, looked at him in hate and anger. Thorin pulled himself up, his sword drawn, and walked down the leaning trunk as Bilbo and the others, hanging from the tree, look on. Thorin ran through the burning ground, towards Azog and his White Warg. Azog spread his arms wide with a smug grin on his face. Thorin growls as he runs with his sword up and his oaken branch shield held in front of him.

"Mäeth!", yelled Bilbo as Thorin advanced towards the pale orc, "Mäetharanel, stop him! This is insane", but she stood still, on top of the branch.

"This is not my fight, Bilbo", her eyes did not leave Thorin's figure, "I could not stop him, even if I wanted to", whispered the princess, ready to jump into the battle at any second.

Azog crouched, then roared as his Warg leaped at Thorin. The dwarf tried swinging his sword, but the Warg hit him in the chest with its forepaw, smashing Thorin to the ground. The other dwarves in the tree looked on in shock, the elf was already making her way down, but stopped when her lover stood up. Dori struggled to hold on to Gandalf's staff.

"Help!", Ori looked down and screamed, his small eyes wide in fear.

As Thorin got back on his feet, panting, Azog and his White Warg wheeled around, charging at Thorin again. Azog swung his mace and smashed Thorin in the face before he could react. Thorin was brutally flung to the ground by the impact.]

"Nooo!", yelled Balin, watching what he thought was going to eb the death of his King. It certainly looked like it.

Azog roared in excitement, he could finish what he started years ago. Bilbo managed to stand up on the tree. The White Warg clamped its jaws around Thorin and Thorin yelled in pain. Dwalin tried to get off the tree to assist Thorin, but the tree branches he was holding on to break, swinging him precariously over the edge and preventing him from reaching Thorin.

"Thorin! Nooo!", the captain of the guard yelled. Looking from Balin, to Dwalin and back to Thorin, Mäetharanel saw red.

As the White Warg held Thorin in its mouth, he managed to hit its head with the pommel of his sword. Roaring, the White Warg threw him several feet away onto a flat rock nearby. Thorin landed heavily, his sword falling out of his hand, unconsciousness began taking him. Throwing her bow out of her back, the princess grabbed her sword, and Mithrandir's from his hip. Glaring ahead, the fire did not bother her anymore. Oh no, Azog was the most bothersome thing she had ever put her eyes on. He had to cease existing.

"Biriz torag khobdudol", Azog's order had made one of Azog's Warg Riders jump off his Warg and approach Thorin.

Bilbo, seeing this, pulled out his own sword, which glows blue. The orc approached Thorin and placed its sword against his neck; raising the sword, the rider prepared to decapitate Thorin, who closed his eyes. The thing's head fell, and Mäetharanel appeared in his vision. If she was the last thing he saw, hair tied in a tight braid, with his own courting braid well seen, her clothes dirty and with cuts on her arms and in her forehead, with smoke from the fire darkening her skin and her eyes shining with blood lust, he would die happy. His love had tried to save him.

Other orcs began attacking her, and Bilbo threw himself at another one that made to kill Thorin once more. The king, finally unconscious, saw the hobbit throwing himself into the side of the creature that meant to kill him, but his wounds did not allow him to remain awake. As they fought, Bilbo managed to stab and kill the orc. Pulling his sword out of the dead orc's body, Bilbo stood in front of the unconscious Thorin and looked to see Mäeth fighting off wargs and orcs alike. Looking back, she saw Thorin, and she saw Bilbo in front of him, sword forward, protecting her lover's body. He waved his sword wildly at Azog and the other Wargs. Azog smilesd in hatred and spoke once more.

"Azat ta*", said the pale orc, while looking at the little hobbit. A couple of Wargs and Riders approached Bilbo, snarling. Suddenly, Fili, Kili, and Dwalin, who had managed to get off the tree, plow into the Wargs from the side and begin fighting them.

In the confusion, Bilbo yelled and leaped forward, wounding a Warg, the pale orc's warg. The White Warg hit Bilbo with his head and sent him flying, however. As the fighting around them kept going, Azog and his White Warg approached Thorin, and Bilbo who had fallen by the dwarf king's side, to kill them. Fili, Kili, and Dwalin are surrounded by Wargs, and the king and the hobbit are at Azog's mercy.

"Izg will marr latob kibum, izg will marr latob heirs' kibum, agh snu izg will atish latob golog, Rani Khozdil*", smirking, Azog brought his prosthetic up, but a sword stopped him. Looking at who wielded it, he laughed, "Agh jiak liwo avake lav-li", pushing Mäeth away with strength, she retreated a few steps, before gaining balance and kicking Thorin away from the weapon the Defiler tried to plunge into his chest.

"Never again", hissed the elf, her sword spinning, "Do you hear me? Never again will your race harm someone that is mine", her eyes darkened, "They're mine, all of them", she pointed her sword at the smirking pale orc, "Dance with someone closer to your height, Azog", now she protected Bilbo, who looked at her with shocked eyes.

"Savaausan kurrauz", the pale beast ordered his subordinates, "Leav avhe parar do lav-li ukhow", his warg snarled and the elf glared.

"MÄETHARANEL!", Fili yelled at the top of his lungs, Kili holding him back, "MÄETHARANEL, DON'T!"

But the fight had already begun. Azog might have been stronger, but the elf was faster and just like the orc, she had years of battle practice in her bones. Their weapons met, and she kicked him back, while grabbing another sword, but he barely moved. Laughing, he let her spin her swords around before prompting his warg to run at her, his weapon slashing, but with one sword, she had stopped his arm and made to slash the other. His arm, that had gone away moved quickly towards her neck, and she spun around, avoiding it. 

No orcs intervened, but the dwarves began feeling restless. The more their weapons met, the more they wanted to go to her. The elf was already sweating, her body either evaded the attacks or attacked. Sometimes, when Azog got close to her, she'd hear a yell from hers, while the orcs would cheer for their master. He had a warg too, while she walked by foot.

"He's going to kill her", whispered Bofur, "He'll kill our Queen!", and just as he finished speaking, the orc finally grasped hold of her, by the hair. The dwarves all screamed in ultrage. Balin brought an hand to his mouth, shocked. Dwalin cursed at the orc, Bifur's khuzdul was spoken fast and Nori, still afraid for his family, could only look back.

"Zee*?", spoke the orc into her ear, while her small hands grasped his that held her tresses, "Auk jiak killun hiuk anceukavoruk, jiak liwo drepa lat avoo*", turning towards another orc, still holding Mäetharanel in the air, he gave the order, "Taag Dok*", and she began squirming, trying to get out of his grip.

He laughed loudly when he saw the orc approaching the passed out King Under the Mountain. Mäetharanel, watching hopelessly, let her shoulders fall, and looked on. Bilbo had nothing to defend himself and Thorin. On her knees, in front of the white warg that was salivating, waiting for it's master to make the final blow, with the Defiler holding her head up by her braid, his prosthetic on her neck, she closed her eyes, and waited. When nothing happened, her eyes opened, and she saw eagles. The orc behind her growled, and released her when one of them flew low, and she jumped into the animal's back.

Dori slipped from the end of Gandalf's staff, and he and Ori fall toward the ground far below. An eagle swoops out of nowhere and catched them on its back; they yelled in fear as they were carried swiftly away, still in shock that instead of falling, they were now flying. Several more Eagles appeared, and while some grabbed Wargs and Orcs to toss them over the cliff, others knocked down trees, which crushed the Wargs below them. Another Eagle fanned the flames with its wings, causing an inferno which burned the Wargs. Azog snarled in frustration.

One Eagle gently grabbed Thorin, and his sword, in its talons and flied away. As Thorin was lifted off the ground, his oaken branch shield slipped off his arm and landed on the ground. Azog roared and jumped back as an Eagle flied by him; the Eagle headed straight for an alarmed Bibo and snatched him off the ground. It then threw Bilbo, and he screamd as he fell toward the ground, only to land on the back of another Eagle. More Eagles came, to grab the rest of the dwarves and take them to safety. When only Gandalf was left in the tree, the roots gave way and the tree fell off the edge of the cliff. The wizard leaped clear of it and was caught by an Eagle. 

As the Eagles flew away with all the Company, Azog and the few Warg Riders left growled in anger and frustration.

*Run them down! Tear them to pieces!

*Do you smell it? The scent of fear?

*I remember your father reeked of it, Thorin son of

Thrain.

*That one is mine.

*Kill the others!

*Drink their blood!

*Bring me the Dwarf's head.

*Kill him

*I will take your life, I will take your heirs life, and then I will keep your elf, dwarf King.

*And I will take her

*Stay back

*Let the elf do her show

*See?

*As I killed his ancestors, I will kill you too

*Kill him

Chapter Text

The Eagles soared through the sky over a great distance and over many landscapes. Thorin remained unconscious in the Eagle's talons; the others worried about him. Fili, feeling like he had lost his uncle, called out to him.

"Thorin!", yelled the blonde prince, with fear in his heart, and in his eyes.

"Le melin, lair cír-achant Thorin*", whispered the elf to the Eagle, while caressing its feathers. It did as it was asked, and she stared at her love's limp body, "Amrâlimê?", came her loud voice. When he didn't move, she stiffened, but then, his fingers twitched, and she smiled, "He's alive, Fili!"

The Eagles approached a massive rock structure shaped like a bear, the Carrock. The Eagle carrying Thorin gently put him and his sword down on a flat area on top of the rock. Another Eagle landed and Gandalf slid off its neck, running toward the unconscious Thorin.

"Thorin! Thorin", still, the King does not respond. Bilbo run up to them, Mäetharanel approached too. Gandalf placed his hand on Thorin's face and whispered a spell.

Mäetharanel went down to one knee and looked on as her lover stayed with his eyes closed. Soon, his eyes fluttered open and he began gasping for air. Sighing, the elf felt tears filling her eyes, and gently grabbed his hand, bringing it up to her face so she could kiss it. Looking at his One, Thorin' eyes filled with love.

"Mäetharanel...", whispered the dwarf while caressing her face. A big tear passed by his thumb, but it came alone. "The halfling?", Gandalf smiled.

"It's all right. Bilbo is here. He's quiet safe", everyone was atop the rock, surrounding their king. Dwalin and Kili helped him up, but as soon as he stood on his feet, he shrugged them off. Approaching Bilbo, he glared.

"You! What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed! Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild and that you had no place amongst us?", Thorin advanced until he was face to face with Bilbo, who looked worried and frightened, "I've never been so wrong in all my life!", Thorin grabbed Bilbo and embraced him deeply. The other dwarves cheered loudly and slapped each other on the back, "I am sorry I doubted you."

"No, I would have doubted me too. I'm not a hero or a warrior...not even a burglar", said Bilbo, while he hugged Thorin back, happy the other was alright.

"Excuse me", Mäeth cleared her throat and put her hands on her hips, "I believe I saved you too? Where is my hug?", Thorin smiled, and approached his lover.

"My love, my Queen...", she leaned down and they touched their foreheads.

"Do not do that, ever again", whispered the elf, looking at him with sad eyes, "Please. We almost lost you...", chuckling, he shook his head and caressed her face, her hair, her waist. Their lips met, and their eyes closed. While Kili and Fili made noises of disgust, the others chuckled.

As the Eagles flew away, screeching, Thorin looked behind Bilbo while holding his elf's hand. Walking forward, closer to his dream, the others followed his gaze.

"Is that what I think it is?", asked Bilbo, while looking at the mountain.

"Erebor—The Lonely Mountain. The last of the great dwarf kingdoms of Middle earth", answered Gandalf.

 "Our home", Thorin nodded, and Mäetharanel looked towards her own, so, so close to theirs. A bird flew by their side, and Ori gasped and pointed.

"A raven! The birds are returning to the mountain", laughing, Mäeth shook her head. More birds appear, all singing.

"That, my dear Oin, is a thrush", corrected the wizard, while the elf smacked his arm.

"But we'll take it as a sign, a good omen", their King smiled, gently. 

"You're right", Bilbo nodded and smiled, too,  "I do believe the worst is behind us."

The Company looked on at the Lonely Mountain, the sun appeared behind them. But thrush that had just passed by them went towards a place that, despite having been filled with life not long ago, was now filled with darkness. Flying in front of the ruined gates of Erebor, it finally landed on a rock on the side of the mountain. It picked up a snail and banged its shell against the side of the mountain. Inside the mountain, a massive pile of gold, coins, jewels, and treasures was piled up in the throne room, and the sounds of the thrush echo through the massive chambers. Some gold is blown away, the dragon that made the life inside the Mountain end, is revealed.  As Smaug slowly raised his head from beneath the pile, more treasure fell away from his face. 

The dragon that had been asleep, opened its eyes, with a growl.

*Please, fly closer to Thorin.

Chapter Text

They had gone down the rock, into the forest, once again. Bilbo, who was indeed light on his feet, had been asked to scout around them. Climbing stealthily up a rockyescarpment he cautiously peered over the edge. In the far distance a pack of Orcs scout riding Wargs can be seen scouring a ridge line. The Warg's sniffed the ground trying to pick-up their scent. Azog's riders went around, while the Pale Orc himself also scouted for them. Suddenly, his head swiveled towards Bilbo's lookout as ifsensing he is being watched. The hobbit ducked down just before he was seen. 

About to creep back to the others, Bilbo froze when a massive paw padded into view, a massive paw that belonged to a giant, bear like creature. It pushed through undergrowth, dark, fierce eyes stared intently atthe orc pack in the distance, analysing. Sharp fangs were bared as the bear emitted a low, threatning snarl. Barely breathing Bilbo quickly went away, back to the Company. As if the Orcs were not enough, something else was after them.  Gandalf, Thorin and the Company immediately peppered Bilbo withquestions as soon as he appeared.

"Everyone, let him breath", Mäetharanel appeared from the bushes. 

"How close is the pack?", asked Thorin, while his elf returned to his side.

"Too close, a couple of leagues, no more.But that's not the worst of it -", answered the hobbit, breathless.

"Have the Wargs picked up our scent?", Dwalin rudely interrupted him, but Bilbo did not even care. He just wanted to breath. 

"Not yet, they will soon enough - butthere's another problem", Gandalf interrupted him too.

"Did they see you?", asked the alarmed wizard, "They saw you."

"No, it's not that -", the wizard appeared smug.

"What did I tell you? Quiet as a mouse -excellent burglar material", while he nodded, the dwarves appeared relieved and spole amongst themselves. Bilbo, who had been completely ignored, was frustrated now.

"Would you listen to me - would you justlisten?! I'm trying to tell you -", everyone went quiet, "There's something else out there", said the hobbit, afraid.

"What form did it take - like a bear?", Gandalf asked, worried.

"Do you think it was?", he nodded at Mäeth, who frowned.

"Yes, except bigger - a lot bigger", Bilbo was so confused. What were they talking about?

"You knew about this beast?!", asked a horrified Bofur, "I say we go back."

"And be run down by a pack of Orcs?", scoffed Thorin. 

"There's a house not far from here wherewe might seek refuge", the wizard thought fast, and the elf nodded.

"Whose house? Are they friend or foe?", the Dwarf King was always wary whenever they walked into something new.

"Thorin, please, there's no time", Mäetharanel hurried them, looking around, upset.

"Neither - he will help us ... or hewill kill us", the elf rolled her eyes.

"What choice do we have?", a huge roar sounds above them.

"None", and he led the Company across a shallow river, and through the wild. In the distance, Mäetharanel saw Greenwood, poisoned. Mirkwood, they called it now, but to her it would never be that. Glancing back, he hurried the dwarves, "Come on!", when he felt a presence near him, he immeadiatly knew the princess had catched up to him.

"Mithrandir! We're near-", the elf ran by his side.

"I know!", his main goal was to get them all to safety.

Azog and his orcs speed through the thick trees, weapons drawn. Suddenly, an ear splitting roar rang through the forest. The orc pack skided to a halt, looking for the noise. Further along, the dwarves also came to a stop. They looked in dismay at one another, a huge bear-creature charged out of the forest. Teeth bared and drooling, it raced towards them!

"This way, quickly!", ordered Gandalf, resuming his running and looking for their hideout. With haste, the Company followed after him. Soon, he pointed forwards, a large wooden house surrounded by trees and hedges was seen in the distance, "Through the gate! Run!", the roaring echoed from behind them which made them run a little faster, drawing nearer and nearer to the house.

Eventually, the Company reached the house. They sprinted through a gate between the hedges, but Mäetharanel stopped so she'd be the last to enter.

"Come on, get inside!", yelled the elf.

The dwarves rushed to the door as bumblebees buzzled past them. They reached the door, throwing themselves against it in desperation while the wizard looked as a massive bear broke out from the edge of the forest and barrels towards them. The princess stood by his side, staring into the running bear's eyes, impassive.

"Open the door!", ordered the Grey. Thorin pushed through them and managed to raise the exterior bolt, opening the doors. As the bear crashed through the gate, the entire company flooded into the home.

The dwarves attempted to slam the door shut, however, the bear pushed his head inside, roaring and snarling. Panicked, the dwarves pushed against the door, screaming. Bilbo had withdrawn his sword and pointed it up at the bear, shaking and pale. Gandalf only watched, calm, Mäetharanel stood by his side, watching the scene with crossed arms. With a final heave that took all their strength, the dwarves managed to close the door and drop the bolt across it. Catching their breath, everyone looked to Gandalf.

"What is that?", the elf smiled at Bilbo and went to Fili and Kili who were breathing fast.

"That is our host. His name is Beorn and he's a skinchanger", Gandalf began looking around, "Sometimes he's a huge, black bear, sometimes he's a great, strong man. The bear is unpredictable, but the man can be reasoned with. However, he is not overfond of dwarves", the dwarves looked at one another, distressed. Bilbo peaked through a crack in the door.

"He's leaving", announced the hobbit. Fili stepped forward and placed a hand on Bilbo's shoulder.

"Get away from there. It's not natural, none of it. He's under some dark spell", Mäeth scoffed and Gandalf frowned.

"Don't be ridiculous. He's under no enchantment but his own", he turned back to the others, "Alright now, get some rest, all of you. You'll be safe here tonight", and they all began to spread through the house.

Most of the dwarves slept throughout the house, peaceful and at ease. Thorin sat beside a window, looking out at the vast field. Gandalf sat among the resting dwarves, smoking his pipe. Bilbo and Balin were seated at the kitchen table, staring into the crackling flames of the fireplace they had lit. Bilbo turned to Balin, confused.

"Balin, who was that out there? The orc?", their elf stood up and went to sit by Thorin's side, who began caressing her loose tresses while still looking outside. He understood she was still upset when she did not lean against his side, but remained silent.

"Azog, the Defiler. An ancient enemy of Durin's Folk", explained the dwarf.

"Ancient enemy", Bilbo looked at him with slightly heavy eyebrows, "That's why he's chasing us?"

"Aye", Blain nodded, "After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, Thorin's grandfather, King Thror, tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria", Blain still saw it clearly, still felt the adrenaline inside his blood.

Thousand of dwarves fighting thousands of orcs, before the great gates of Moria. Young Thorin, Balin and Dwalin fought alongside Thrain, Thorin's father, and the great King Thror.

"But our enemy had gotten there first", continued the dwarf with emotion.

Bodies dropped left and right. Fatal blows were dealt to both armies. With one fall of their swords, Thorin, Thrain and Thror fought off the orcs with great skill. Amongst the carnage, a pale-white orc loomed over the armies, scars strewn across his bare chest. It was Azog, the Defiler. Roaring loudly, it wiped out dwarves with his massive mace.

"Moria had been taken by legions of orcs led by the most vile of all their race. Azog the Defiler. The giant Gunabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin."

Finally Azog spotted Thror in the battlefield and lumbered forward. The dwarven king looked small and weak compared to his colossal enemy.

Thorin listened from the window as he stares into the wild. He now twirled the long hair of his One through his fingers, a habit he had developed when in stress. Bilbo listened eagerly from the table.

"He began by beheading the king", Tears welled in Balin's eyes, remembering.

Azog roared in triumph. He held King Thror's severed head high above him for all to see. Azog flung the head forward. It bounced and tumbled down the rocky earth, landing directly at Thorin's feet.

"NO!", yelled the young prince, pain and rage were clearly heard in his voice. Gandalf's pipe dropped from his mouth. He was disturbed by this tale, even though he had heard it before.

"Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed. We do not know", the dwarf shook his head. Thorin had a pained look about his face as Balin pressed on. He saw it in front of him, once again, rank upon rank of orc armies massacring the dwarves. Their bodies fell from the cliffs around Moria. A morbid waterfall, "We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us. Dwarves begin to flee the battleground. The orcs have the upper hand", Balin looked to Thorin, still facing the window. His face glowing with pride. The dwarves began to stir from the ground, "That is when I saw him. The young dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc",

Thorin marched toward Azog, ready for battle. He was armed with sword and shield, a fin plate of armor protecting him.

"He stood alone against this terrible foe",

Azog swung his mace, knocking away Thorin's shield. Thorin hacked at Azog, but with another swing of the mace, he found his sword flying out of his hands as well. The force of the blow caused Thorin to fall backwards. Azog made his way towards him, going in for the kill. Just then, Thorin grabbed a near Okaen branch, dodging at Azog's swing. Thorin got to his feet again, blocking every fall of Azog's mace with his branch.

"His armor rent, he wielded nothing but an oaken branch as a shield", Balin spoke with pride.

A powerful swing sent Thorin to the ground once again. Azog loomed over Thorin, ready to kill. A fallen sword layed beside Thorin. Quickly, he picked up the weapon and rose. Thorin charged forward, his sword meeting with Azog's mace. Determined, Thorin checked a blow against Azog. The orc stumbled backwards. He swung his sword, slicing off Azog's lower arm.

"Azog the Defiler learned that day that the Line of Durin could not be so easily broken...", his voice trailed off.

Thorin watches as the other orc's take Azog away, and rallied his men shouting war cries, charging against their enemies with savage force. The remaining orcs were wiped out, "our forces rallied and drove the orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated", the empty battlefield is covered in the corpses of dwarves and orcs alike. The surviving dwarves weep with one another over their losses,

"But there was no feast nor song that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived."

Balin, battle-scarred and weeping, looked up at the field after hugging Dwalin. They had lost their father. He spoted Thorin striding across the battleground, his oaken branch in hand.

"And I thought to myself then: there is one who I could follow. There is one I could call king", Thorin turned away from the window, visibly moved. All of the dwarves had woken and were standing in awe before Thorin. A warm smile splited across Balin's face. Mäetharanel shared the same pride the dwarf felt for her lover, and her eyes smiled more than her mouth. Bilbo, however, still seemed befuddled.

"But Azog, he's still out there", Thorin stepped closer to Bilbo, swollen in his pride.

"Aye. But we'll be waiting for him", Thorin walked with his hands behind his back, while sharing a glance with Gandalf, a hint of doubt hidden behind his smile, "All of you, try to sleep", and they began going back to their resting places, "Mäetharanel, come", she did.

"What is it?", the elf sat by his side and when he looked at her, she saw it. He meant to apologise.

"Back there, in Imládris... You were right. The final decision was mine", she scoffed, was she losing sleep so she'd hear what she already knew?, "And what Kili said, I agreed to it. We meant to leave you there so you'd be closer to your kin. You ache for them", she frowned and had been about to interrupt him, "No, stop", she obeyed, how rare it was, "You put yourself in danger there. You might be immortal, but you still die. You still die", his voice went even more quiet when he repeated it, and finally her shoulders fell and she seemed dumbfounded, "As soon as you heard their horns, you meant to go to them, you meant to help. Had Kili and Fili not grabbed you, you'd unleash your anger in the orcs, with them."

"My anger was due to Kili's actions. Due to the actions he took, based on your orders", he sighed.

"Kili is no longer a child, and you know this", his hand covered hers, "It was then I made my decision, as did they, unknowingly to me, they thought the same. Even Gloin approached us to say so", she took her hand from his and appeared to become angry, "Can you blame us? Yes, we once felt nothing good about one another, but do you believe me to be so false as to fake this?", he leaned towards her and searched in her hair for the courting braid he had put there. When he found it, he extended it so she'd be looking at it too, "This is serious, Mäetharanel. This means I gave myself to you, and this", he reached for the braid she had made, "Means you gave yourself to me, too", he let go of both braids and it was his turn to appear angry, "How dare you even begin to believe we think you a bother? You are well aware of the love we hold for you. You're an elf, Mäetharanel. You conquered us, and agreed with the wizard to conquer back our home, without even knowing us."

"I did it so I'd-", he shook his head and interrupted her.

"It matters not why you decided to do it", hissed the dwarf, "You're still here. You could have left years ago, but you didn't. You did not need to obey you part of the deal you made with Gandalf. Certainly your kin would not turn you away from them", and she looked to the side, but he turned her face back to his, and when she saw how close he had gotten she felt weak, "You are no burden to me, nor to them. We began this journey together, and made a promise, do you remember?", she would never forget.

"Tomorrow we leave the Blue Mountains and the safety of your home", Mäetharanel looked outside, to the green forest wearing nothing but a long, white, silk robe. Smoking his pipe, Thorin approached to kiss her shoulder and she smiled, "Dís is going to weep as she sees us off."

"And she will threaten us once more", she laughed and turned to look at him. The chair she was sitting on was made specially for her, and it was similar to Thorin's throne in the council room, "I am counting on you to reassure her, once again, on her children's safe return", she traced the tattoo he had on his bare chest and nodded, "Mäetharanel."

"I already said yes, Thorin", but he shook his head, grabbed her hand and lead her to the bed so they'd be sitting there, "What is it? What bothers you, my King?", he smiled at her.

"You", and when she frowned, he continued, "I understand you must come with us, and I understand your skill and appreaciate it", she rolled her eyes and sighed, "But I am afraid", now the clear blue eyes widened.

"What do you mean? Thorin, you-", he kissed her, hard and desperate. When he separated from her, she glared.

"Promise me this, please", oh by the Valar, he was going to ask her for something she wouldn't do, and he knew she wouldn't do it, so he was begging, "Should danger become too much, you won't pursue it", she made a sound and stood up.

"You doubt my hability right after acknowledging it? I don't understand you, Thorin", he shook his head.

"It has nothing to do with that. I understand you can overpass anything that may come in our way, but Mäetharanel, grant me this only wish: you will live, in the end", she turned to look back at him, "I need you to live, even if I die, I-"

"What in the world are you saying, Thorin Oakenshield?", hissed the elf as she got in his face, "You believe yourself capable of dying with me near? You won't die, none of you will. Not on my watch", then she stood straight and ran an hand through her long hair, "By the Valar, Thorin, you're such a fool..."

"Mäetharanel, I must hear you say it", how dare he use his comanding voice on her!?, "You may fight all you want, unless it truly compromises your life. Even if I must go, even if Kili and Fili are being harmed."

"Never, I will never do that!", she began picking at the skin on the end of her nails, "What do you think? That you will die and everything will go on just as it was? No, Thorin, it won't. Dain would rule Erebor, do you want that? I certainly do not want that to happen", looking down at him she shook her head again, "I refuse it", he stood up and looked up at her with finality.

"I will hear you say it", he had to. He could not handle losing someone so close to him once again, "Say it. Now", she laughed drily and crossed her arms, refusing him again, "Or you won't go."

"Excuse you? I won't go? You can't do that."

"I can, and I will. You know it", her mouth opened in shock and she uncrossed her arms.

"You won't leave with my nephews and take them to die without me there, you can't", her voice shook in anger, "Gandalf was the one that began this quest-"

"Yet I am it's leader, I am the king of the land we will get back", staring into his eyes, she admitted defeat.

"You are making me believe you don't trust me, but as you wish. Should danger become too much, I won't pursue it, I promise", she nodded at him and sat back down on the bed. He nodded and sighed, feeling relieved. She always kept her promises.

"I trust you. I trust you more than anyone around me, I trust you awake and asleep", he caressed her face and made her look up at him, "I trust you enough to allow you in my bed, and it is not just to feast on your body, it is not out of carnal instinct. It is because I love you, amrâlimê", a shaken sigh left her lips and he joined their foreheads, gently, "I would give Erebor away for you, I would throw away any jewel inside that mountain if it meant you would never be harmed again. I'd throw every dwarf inside the Mount Doom if it meant I get to taste you until the end of the times... You are what matters the most", tears grew inside her eyes, but she merely smiled and leaned against his chest before closing them and letting the water flow.

"Before coming here, I would have killed you in a second if it was necessary", whispered the elf.

"As would I", nodded the dwarf while caressing her hair.

"How come that now I cannot live without you?", she looked up at him and he wiped the tear trials on her eyes before claiming her lips once more. Slowly, her robe fell down her shoulders and exposed her naked bossom as he made her lay back on the bed they had shared for so long. He took her many times that night, content with the promise she had made to him.

"I did not pursue them, Thorin. I broke no promise."

"Aye, but you meant to", he spoke in whispers, "You meant to go after them. And we meant to leave you with them so you wouldn't break your promise", she looked around, to the sleeping dwarfs, "I understand how you feel. We hurt you, we made it seem as if we did not wish for us to continue the quest with you in it. But both you and Bilbo do not belong here. Not when it could endanger your life. Even if you can defend yourself much better than I ever could, even if you've been alive for longer then I've been born, no. I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself."

"They killed my sister", whispered the princess while looking outside, and when she turned to look back at him, he had a somber expression, "We were defending our home and they killed her. It was not only to help my kin I leaped into action Thorin, it was to help end their race. They killed my other half, they killed my reason. They killed any gentle feeling I had towards the world. I began travelling with aprehension after that", a broken smile appeared in her face, "I never said goodbye to her. I urged you to say goodbye to Dis because of that, because leaving without seeing her would be easier, but it would leave her broken if you were leaving for good. We do not know the power of a farewell until we regret not saying it...", he caressed her hands and she did it back, "Don't leave me, Thorin. Don't leave ever again. Please", he brought her to his arms and kissed the top of her head.

"I won't. I promise", whispered the dwarf.

Outside, Azog and his company watched the house from a distance. Beorn, in his bear form, circled around the house, growling. Yazneg approached Azog.

"Attack them now. Kill the dwarf filth while they sleep", spoke the creature in black speech.

"No. The Beast stands guard. We will kill them on the road", decided their leader who turned looking towards his wargs. He and his orcs mounted the fierce beasts and rode off into the distance. Beorn ambled after them as his bear form stumbled over. Slowly, his form melted into that of a tall man. He rose to his feet, staring to his house in the distance.

Everyone was asleep. Suddenly, there was rustling noise that rose Bilbo from his sleep. Quietly peeking out of his blankets, he saw Beorn enter the house. With a sigh, he closed the door behind him. Soon, morning came. Mäetharanel was the first to wake, and after putting water to her face, she went outisde. Her eyes met Beorn's back.

"Do you never rest, Beorn?", he stopped is axe and turned to look at her, covered in one of his large blankets with her hair down, freshly clean, "You haven't changed."

"My lady", he bowed to her, deeper than usual, "I am glad to have you in my home once more", he stood straight up and she got closer, "It seems it is not only you and another, this time", and she chuckled.

"And I have not come with Radagast, either. Actually... I came with unwanted company, Beorn", he frowned and she rubbed around her ribs. Had the goblins harmed her? It should've healed by then.

"Who is with you?", she crossed her arms and gave him a gentle smile.

"A wizard, Gandalf the Grey, a halfling, Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, and...", he knew what she was going to say next, "thirteen dwarves?", his eyes widened comically and he groaned, "Come now, I promise they are not that bad!"

"They are dwarves! They all share the same traits, they are fools who pursue only gold!"

"Please, give them a chance, dear Beorn... One of them is my partner", his eyes widened once more, but this time his mouth went slack, "you believe I'd take a dwarf to be my lover if he wasn't, at least, decent?", but she would get no answer. Laughing, she turned her back and walked back inside the home. Beorn resumed his wood cutting minutes later.

Ponies pranced through the field, their manes fluttering in the wind. A very large bumblebee landed on Bilbo's nose, waking him with a start. The bee flied off, alarmed. Quickly, Bilbo put on his jacket and walked towards the kitchen where Gandalf and the dwarves were all gathered there, with Beorn looming over them. Bilbo sat down at the table as their host poured a glass of milk for Fili, locking eyes with Thorin. Mäetharanel emerged from the kitchen with a fork and some salad on a plate.

"So you are the one they call Oakenshield? Tell me, why is Azog the Defiller hunting you?", he went to next dwarf and poured more milk.

"You know of Azog? How?", Fili drank from his cup while Thorin held the handle of his.

"My people were the first to live in the mountains, before the orcs came down from the north. Azog killed most of my family, but some he enslaved. Not for work, you understand, but for sport. Caging skin-changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him", he looked down at his hands that had manacles around his wrists.

"There are others like you?", asked Bilbo while looking at the man's wrists.

"Once there were many."

"And now?"

"Now there is only one", answered the man. Beorn set down the milk pitcher and the dwarves looked on in silence, "You need to reach the mountain before the last days of autumn?"

"Before Durin's Day falls, yes", nodded their wizard while the man hummed.

"You are running out of time."

"Which is why we must go through Mirkwood", the name brought shivers down Mäeth's spine, and when she sat down besides Thorin and held his hand, Beorn raised an eyebrow in her way. She smiled before wincing. When her lover looked at her with a raised eyebrow she shook her head. How come she was noticing the pain in her legs just now?

"A darkness lies upon that forest. Fell things creep beneath those trees", he still looked at the princess. Beorn understood her conection to the forest and it's creatures, "I would not venture there except in great need", she took a sip of the water and nodded.

"We will take the Elven Road. That path is still safe", the skin changer snorted.

"Safe? The Wood-Elves of Mirkwood are not like their kin. They're less wise and more dangerous. But it matters not", Thorin looked troubled.

"What do you mean?"

"These lands are crawling with orcs. Their numbers are growing, and you are on foot. You will never reach the forest alive", Beorn rose from the table. He glared down at Thorin, "I don't like dwarves. They're greedy and blind, blind to the lives they deem lesser than their own", picking up a scampering mouse from the table, Beorn petted the creature. The dwarves watched, nervous, "But orcs I hate more", looking up from the mouse, Beorn met Thorin's eyes, "What do you need?", the king under the mountain looked relieved.

Mäetharanel looked down at the glass filled with water she had served herself and gently touched around her lower belly, discretly. When the water inside the cup hit against the side of the cup with violence, she went cold and let her finger approach the glass. The water called for her.

Chapter Text

Gandalf walked into the edge of the forest, passing underneath an ancient archway.

"The Elven Gate", said the Grey, "Here lays our path through Mirkwood!"

"No sign of the orcs. We have luck on our side", however, you could see the uneasiness in they way Dwalin stood.

"On your side, indeed...", thought the elven princess. The pain she had been feeling came back much stronger than before. Sleeping in Beorn's home made her feel refreshed, but being so near the forest brought the feeling of distress back.

"Set the ponies lose", said Gandalf as he gazed inside the forest, "Let them return to their master."

Mäetharanel quickly attended to her own horse, but not before gently running her fingers through it's wonderful black mane and patting it's torso twice. Turning to the nearest pony, her hands met another's and when she turned to look into the dwarfs eyes, her deep blue eys met Fili's own.

"This forest feels...", she stiffened and Erebor's golden prince didn't turn away from her.

"Sick. It's as if a disease lays upon it", finished their Hobbit and she looked down.

"I cannot do this", whispered Mäetharanel as soon as her eyes gazed at the forest once again. She both wanted to go inside it and to flee far away. How ironic it was! Her favorite place, now the reason of her saddness.

"Is there no way around it?", she had been about to answer Bilbo, she had been about to tell him that yes, there is a better way to go through, but Gandalf interrupted her.

"Not unless we travel 320 miles north or twice that distance south."

While they were all getting ready, the princess couldn't stop looking at the tall dark trees or at the dead plants and vines that were in the ground. Her mouth opened and closed several times but nothing came out, so she simply decided to arrange her weapons and smile at Bombur whom was right in front of her, it had been either that or comfront Thorin's penetrating gaze.

On his part, Bilbo reached inside his pocket where he kept the ring he had stolen, and played with it. A million thoughts went through his head then and he stared ahead, into nothing, just thinking, until an eye appeared in his mind and it was as if the air was completely taken out of his lungs and all thoughts stopped... Inside the forest, Lady Galadriel's words went through the wizard's head, and he came to a conclusion: he'd attend his lady's wishes, he would go to-

"The High Fells", nodded the old man, "So be it", and he went back to the Company.

Outside of the forest, everyone was getting ready to enter it until Gandalf claimed he needed his horse which had been about to be set free by Nori.

"You're not leaving us?" asked Bilbo, incredulous.

"I would not do this unless I really had to", answered the obviously perturbed wizard, "you've changed, Bilbo Baggins. You're not the same Hobbit who's left the Shire", and Bilbo stared at him.

"I must tell you", he stopped, hesitated and smiled, "I... found something in the goblin tunnels", he kept on touching the ring.

"You found what?", he glanced at him expectantly and leaned towards him, "What did you find?" Bilbo faced him head on and came to a conclusion.

"My courage", he let the ring settle inside his pocket, safely.

"Good. That's good", Gandalf arranged his slouched figure and smiled brightly at the hobbit, "You'll need it", and he went for his horse, "I'll be waiting for you at the overlook, before the slopes of Erebor. Keep the map and the key safe", he went to his horse's side and faced the King Under the Mountain, "Do not enter that mountain without me", Thorin faced Balin and simply accepted fate, once more. They all stood in front of Gandalf, waiting for his last words before his departure.

"This is not the Greenwood it once was", Mäetharanel looked back and frowned, "the very air is as heavy as it can be with illusion. It will seek to enter your mind and lead you astray", and he finally mounted the horse.

"Lead astray?", frowned Bilbo, "what does that mean?"

"You must stay on the path. Do not leave it. If you do, you will never find it again", Thorin turned away from him to glance at his companions and Gandalf had been about to be on his way when Mäetharanel stopped him.

"Wait!", everyone turned to look at her but she ignored them and went towards the man, "Mithrandir, I cannot do this", whispered the elf.

"Do what, my dear?", his calmness frustrated her even further.

"Go inside that forest. I can't do it Mithrandir, I can't...", she looked at his eyes, straight into his soul and he smiled. Throught the yeards they had been together, he had seen many sides of the princess, but this had been the one he had seen the most. Used to being looked up to as soberan in her father's absence, Mäetharanel had hidden all bad feeling deep inside her. Being with the Grey let her have some time to herself, and so she became more frail when with him.

"Once, I met a young elven girl. She had an attitude, you see; she swore to never be seen nearby a dwarf, unless to bring them death. Now, she has joined a quest with not only one, but thirteen! And she travels with them to regain their home", he lowered his head so he'd be closer to her, "that same elf thought herself unable to leave her home, away from those she loved, but here she is, so far away from it. Mäetharanel, you can do this. You, better than anyone, can fight your fears and help these people", his words made her think deeply, and when he arranged himself to leave, she felt a bit better, "at least try it."

"Yes, Mithrandir. I will", for the quest, and for them, "Thank you."

"All is well, now, go. They will need you", the princess nodded and returned to her lover's side. The Grey turned his horse around, warned one last time, "no matter what may come, stay on the path!", and he was gone.

"C'mon. We must reach the mountain before the sun sets on Durin's day. Let's go", urged their King, "we have one chance of finding the hidden door", and they marched inside the forest. Mäetharanel followed after them, but not before breathing deeply, looking at the height of the trees and giving a prayer to the Valar.

Inside the forest, so big and dense and dark, Dwalin was showing them the way, right behind his king.

"The path is this way", and they all followed after him.

Kili looked through two trees with his eyebrows forrowed and Fili looked up, evaluating how high the tall trees went. The course seemed endless as did the trees and the vegetation around those and them, but they never went away from each other or from the path, going into narrow and thin paths, having to stay almost sticked to each other like glue, turning left and right and left and right again then forward and left and left... until they got lost in the path and lost themselves.

Looking around it was as if Ori was seeing yet another company exactly like their own right beneath his feet. Dori and Nori were right after their brother trying not to fall while Thorin looked around himself, always alert in case danger rained down on them. Mäetharanel looked down the whole way, breathing was becoming a difficult task and she knew that looking up would only make her more uneasy, and all of them were just going round and round until Dwalin hit his great war hammer on the ground. The elf, not familiar with the trees around her anymore, looked around herself for a second, but instantly regreted it, for the trees were much too tall and dark, the vegetation was dead and burnt and the animals were no where to be seen. The remains of a pond could be identified, compeltely dry. The forest was dead, they had truly destroyed her place.

"This way", and he turned to the right, Thorin who was right behind him looked back before following him, and the others did the same, until it began to get more difficult.

"Air. I need air", said Bofur

"My head is spinning!", complained Oin when they suddenly stopped, "What's happening?"

"Keep going", came Thorin's commanding voice, "Nori...", he walked towards the dwarf leading them, "Why are we stopped?"

"The path it's disappeared", and indeed it had. Instead of their path, in front of them was a fall.

"What's goin' on?", asked Dwalin

"We've lost the path!", answered Oin

"Find it", came Thorin's urging voice, "All of you look. Look for the path!"

More and more particles fell from the trees, and more and more in circles they walked. Mäetharanel was practically heaving in silence behind them when Oin groaned and Balin mentioned he didn't remember being there before.

"None of it's familiar", he kept on saying, completely grumpy.

"It has to be here", said a desperate Dori.

"What hour is it?", Thorin was as lost as all of them

"I don't know. I don't even know what today is", answered Dwalin.

"Is there no end to this accursed forest?", yelled Thorin while Bilbo was curiously touching whatever it was that everything in the forest seemed to be wrapped in, until he ran his finger through it and it all vibrated. Looking up, he did it again, and observed it's reaction.

They continued looking for the path, all together now. Bilbo was both upset and curious while looking ahead until he suddenly looked down and noticed his feet going backwards while he was damn sure he was walking forward. His eyebrows went up and down and he sighed, looked around, turned his gaze to Dori, blinked and then it wasn't Dori anymore. It was him, Bilbo. Bilbo was looking at another Bilbo that was Dori. Or was Bilbo the real Dori? Nevermind, all he knew was that the other Bilbo (or was that the real him? He didn't know anymore!) was really confused and when he looked forward, he felt completely dizzy, his world was going on around and his head was falling until it seemed like he had woken up.

"Look", said dear Ori as he picked something of the ground.

"A tobbaco pouch", observed Dori, "there are dwarves in these woods."

"Dwarves from the Blue Mountains no less", said Bofur, "This is exactly the same as mine."

"Because it is yours", Bilbo approached the three, "do you understand?", the hobbit was in no good mood, "We're going around in circles", he made sure they understood as he did a circle with his finger in the air, "We're lost."

"We're not lost. We're heading east", defended Dwalin.

"But which way is east?", that was Oin, "We've lost the sun."

"Thorin...", whispered Mäetharanel as she leaned against a tree, cold sweat going down her face.

"I thought you were the expert!", complained one of them as Bilbo looked up, face all dirty but gaze always so bright.

"The sun... We have to find the sun", thought the redhead as he drummed his fingers in the air. "Up there", then he pointed up, "we need to get to the tree tops!" but he was ignored for the dwarves had started fighting among them.

"What was that?", whispered Thorin as he catched a sound, which unfortunately wasn't Mäetharanel's labored breathing, "Enough! Quiet! All of you!", ordered their leader, and they obeyed, "We're being watched."

"Ba...lin?", the elf could barely speak as she went down the tree, her eyes going to the back of her head.

Bilbo was already reaching the top of the tree he had been escalating when the loud sound of her body hitting the ground was heard and they all panicked. She was an elf, those woods should've been harmless to her! Thorin quickly went to her but suddenly everything went black to him, the last thing he had seen was Fili about to get on his knees in front of Mäetharanel's fallen body, his hand had been about to touch her hair and he was yelling for her, to no vail.

"I can see a lake!", yelled the Baggins after taking a big breath of good fresh air and laughing, "and a river. And the Lonely Mountain", he tried to inform them as he pushed a large bush away so he could clearly see, "we're almost there! Can you hear me? I know which way to go!", the excitement was obvious as he tried to lighten up the mood of his fellow companions, "hello? Hello...", upon not receiving an answer, he frowned and got gloom once more. Memorizing the path they had to follow, he began his journey down the tree.

"Oh, c'mon...", complained the small one as his big feet got tangled in one of the large webs in the tree and his yells of panic accompanied him as he hit bushes. Finally, just as he was able to grasp one of the branches, he came face to face with a giant spider, "AAAAAAAHHH!", screamed Bilbo Baggins as he kept on falling. When he finally stopped, there was something sticky beneath him. A web. It seemed he had become the lunch (or was it time for supper?) of a spider because when he couldn't detangle himself, it did the great job of wrapping him better into it's trap.

Spiders walked all around them, working their slim paws around the company. Bilbo woke as they pushed him, completely covered in a web. As one of them was about to take a bite, he grabbed his sword and pushed it through the spider, killing it and making it fall, curled up. Getting out of the web he was tangled in, he looked around and saw his companions completely wrapped up. Shaking, he noticed how quickly the creatures moved and as he put the ring on his finger, he closed his eyes while hearing them speak.

"Kill them! Kill them!", said one of them, "eat them while the blood still flows! The flesh is tough, but there's good juices inside!", it started poking one of the dwarves.

"Sting it again! Sting him again! Finish him off!", feet hit the giant in the face, "the meat's alive and jigging! Kill them now! Kill them now! Let's feast!"

"Feast! Feast!", they all chanted, "Eat them alive!", declared one of the spiders, "Feast!", while Bilbo made noise to lure them far from the company, some of them went to see what it had been, but one got very close to a squirming and whimpering dwarf.

"Fat and juicy!", salivated one of the monsters. The red haired hobbit approached it with slow, uncertain steps, "Just a little taste...", and he sliced the sword he carried swiftly against it's rear. It howled and angrily turned around and growled against Bilbo's face but he sliced at it's face and it screamed in agony and tried to fight even if he wasn't visible. This didn't stop the small creature that kept on slicing, "Curse it! Where is it? Where is it?", he took the ring off, finally becoming visible.

"Here", Bilbo smiled mockingly, before delivering the fatal blow that ended the creature.

"It stings! It stings!", it yelled before falling to it's death. Bilbo admired the sword.

"Sting", he contemplated it before smiling and moving it around, "it's a good name", he then turned it in his hand and look to the side, "Sting", and he began slicing the webs off his friends body. Quickly, he went to the tallest one and opened up Mäetharanel's prison. After touching her face and neck, Bilbo let out a sigh of relief upon feeling a pulse underneath his fingers. He kept on slicing around the webs, releasing them all.

"Are you okay Bofur?"

"I'm alright!"

"Get me out of this!", complained Dwalin while trashing around the remains of the webs.

"Where's Bilbo?"

"I'm up here- AHHH!", a spider attacked him and as he killed it it curled around him and sent both of them down into the tree branches. But the worse was that Bilbo's ring had fallen too.

With the dwarves, Thorin had grasped Mäetharanel's arms. Despite standing on shaky feet and being quite pale, her attention was on the creatures that had attacked them, and as soon as they began the second round, she jumped quickly grasped the knife she always kept in her boot to slice though the spider that attacked her and Thorin. As it's companion fell, another spider threw itself on top of her with all it's strength and she fell down. Thorin, who had wanted to help his lover, began going in her way, but another spider engaged him in a fight, which he finished just in time to see the brunette killing the one that had attacked her. He quickly went to help Bombur who was also having trouble, his hands around a spiders teeth, pushing. Mäetharanel stood up after discarting the spider's dead body and took a deep breath, inhaling the sick air of the forest. Groaning, she threw a dagger effectively defending Balin's back, before going down on one knee and grabbing yet another small blade from her pocket. She could be feeling terribly sick, but she wasn't going down.

"Grab it's paws!", ordered Fili while trying to help Bombur, and some of the dwarves did so, "pull!", and the beasts corpse fell on top of Bombur as it lost all it's paws, blood going around them.

"Where is it? Where is it?", whispered Bilbo as he frantically looked for his ring "where is it?"

Looking around like a madman, he felt his throat dry. WHERE WAS HIS RING? But then, he saw it. Walking towards it, he stopped and gasped with void eyes. A creature appeared and he turned his attention to it, watching while it walked right over the ring. Bilbo frowned deeply, possessiveness over the ring that was his and his alone took him as he let out a cry and ran towards it, slicing and hitting the creature with Sting, screaming all through it.

"THORIN! Kill them!", yelled Dwalin as he threw himself on top of a spider. Kili's sword went through the mouth of one and Filli stabbed the head of another as his brother was caught in one's arms.

"Careful brother!", shouted the blonde prince. Dwalin was mercilessly beating the life out of another one when Fili charged against the one holding his brother captive, "Kili!", and as he put his shoulder against it, his brother, free at last, stabbed his sword into the spiders mouth.

Bilbo kept on hitting his sword into the creature's head. As it tried to fight back and attack him, he cut it's front paws and, when it stood up with an agonising scream, he stabbed it and stared straight into it's eyes as it groaned, dying shortly after. The hobbit clenched his teeth as he took Sting out of the body and while breathing hard, he stabbed it one last time, heaved out some more breaths, crouched, grasped HIS ring of the ground and showed it to the dead thief.

"Mine", said the usually bright being, in a dark voice. Falling against a tree he sighed and looked at it as if it was the most precious thing in the world, until realisation came upon him. Bilbo slowly let the hand holding the ring fall as he faced the dead body with a closed face. Breathing hard, he looked at his hand then back at the ring and put the hand that wasn't holding it against his mouth. Sobbing quietly and filled with shame, his eyes widened as he heard the dwarves yelling.

"C'mon! Keep up!"

"We fled!", yelled Thorin, back to leading the escaping company. Mäetharanel was right behind him being held up by Dwalin who didn't appear happy he had to do it.

"Dwalin, you can let me go", at her raspy voice, he scoffed and kept on walking as fast he could while holding part of her weight.

"Ye'll just fall on yer arse," she glared and made the mistake of looking around them. The trees began closing around her, the air was too heavy, her mind was going blank and her body shut off, "DAMN IT LASS!", Dwalin was quick to catch her falling body.

Thorin stiffened and had been about to go help Dwalin, but his mouth went slack as he looked up towards the trees were the beasts were now being slain by someone. It proved to be a tall, blonde elf that pointed an arrow at him. In response, Thorin raised his sword, squared his shoulders and tensed as the very sharp tip of the weapon was in front of his eyes. Soon, they were completely surrounded by armed elves.

"Do not think I won't kill you dwarf. It would be my pleasure", growled the blonde. Thorin glared but kept still.

"Help!", the black haired prince of Erebor yelled.

"Kili!", yelled Fili, while helping Dwalin put Mäeth against a tree, hidden from the elves that had come. The prince ran in his brothers direction, but was stopped.

A spider was battling the young dwarf, but he had nothing to defend himself with as he was pulled away. An elf with flowing red hair came through the trees and killed three spiders, the last being the one about to probably eat Kili. The darkhaired prince was surprised to find an elf when he turned around to see who had saved him. Their eyes met briefly before she turned to kill yet another beast and the dwarf turned towards her.

"Throw me a dagger!", he asked while pointing his hand at her so she'd pass it, "quick!"

"If you think I'll give you a weapon, dwarf, you're mistaken", growled the she elf while turning around and effectively killing the spider that had been about to be on top of Kili. They glanced at one another, out of breath. The taller woman appeared to have a relaxed smile upon finishing killing the spiders.

"Search them", one of the elves said. Dwalin quickly got away from Mäetharanel, after making sure she was laying down behind the tree, before an elf turned around and started searching him.

"Well? Give that back. That's private", glared Gloin as the elf that threatened Thorin grasped his locket.

"Who is this?", asked who they thought to be the leader, "your brother?", mocked the elf.

"That is me wife", snapped the read headed dwarf.

"And who is this horrid creature? A goblin mutant?", how dare the bastard insult his child!?

"That's my wee lad, Gimli", he answered between gritted teeth and the other raised an eyebrow.

Fili looked up completely defying the elf that was searching him for anymore of his weapons and even gave them one of his daggers.

"Gyrth in yngyl bain?*", asked Legolas, son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood and nephew of Princess Mäetharanel of Doriath, as Tauriel, the captain of the guard, approached him.

"Ennorner gwanod in yngyl na nyryn",answered the elleth as she watched their men searching the dwarves. Legolas titled his head, questioning with his gaze, "Engain nar.*"

Meanwhile, Fili was still being searched. The golden prince opened his furr jacket and showed he had nothing else, but the elf searching him went to the right side behind his head and when he retreated, there was a knife in his hand. Fili blinked, and sighed. Legolas was watching everything when a sword, Orcrist, Thorin's weapon, was brought to him.

"Echannen i vegil hen vin GondolinI", he tested it's weight and moved it around, "Magannen nan Gelydh*", he turned to Thorin with a unimpressive gaze, "Where did you get this?"

"It was given to me", answered the King Under the Mountain, defying.

"Not just a thief, but a liar as well", Legolas pointed the sword at the dwarf, both as a threat and to show him he was the bigger figure in there.

"My Lord Legolas!", an elf came to him holding someone in his arms and the prince frowned and approached him. Dwalin cursed in kuzdhul as he saw Mäetharanel.

When Legolas came close enough the first thing he noticed was how much hair the person had and the second was their pointy ears which gave their race away: an elf, one of them. Their face was turned to the guard's chest but now he knew it was a woman as the body was slender, even if her shoulders were slightly wide, which gave away the fact that this was a warrior the dwarves had been dealing with, and it was one with many years of training as her arms were also well toned. He approached even more and as he finally turned the elleth's face towards him he stiffened and gasped.

Legolas first recognised the pointy ears the person had, which meant they were one of them, an elf. Then, from their slender figure, despite their wide shoulders, he deemed it was a woman, whose face was turned to the guard's chest. The dwarves had an encounter with a warrior of theirs. Going closer to the other elf, he gently grasped the person's chin and when the elleth's face was shown, he went stiff and his mouth opened.

"By the Valar", whispered the prince with wide eyes, "Aunt Mäetharanel...", Legolas breathed her name as he took the unconscious body into his arms. The elf that had been holding the princess watched as Legolas crawled her body into his arms, put his cheek to her head and finally brought his lips to her forehead. He turned around to glare into Oakenshield's eyes, "What did you do to her, dwarf?", growled the male.

"Let her go," the king growled right back at him, "we did nothing to her, release her!", Fili had been about to take her from them and ask him who he thought he was to hold Mäetharanel like that, but was restrained.

"You lie!", he held her even closer and Thorin narrowed his eyes and began approaching him to retrieve his elf, but the other barked an order, "Enwenno hain!*", and he was pushed away.

"Where's Bilbo?", whispered Bofur to him, and Thorin looked around, but didn't see their hobbit anywhere.

Tauriel approached Legolas cautiously, it was strange of him to be so protective of someone. Looking at the person's face she hadn't recognised her, so she glanced at the prince curiously. He regarded Tauriel with tired eyes, before kissing the woman's forehead once more and arranging her position in his arms. He meant to keep her warm.

"Legolas?", looking at her, the prince leaned his head against the body he was carrying and sighed, the captain appeared shocked at such an intimate act and had been about to speak when she was interrupted by the answer she had been about to request.

"This woman is my mother's sister, princess Mäetharanel", Her eyes widened at the news, "she's been gone for centuries, I thought... I thought she was no more, Tauriel. But here she is, breathing, cold and in bad condition, but alive", Tauriel gazed at him with gentle eyes and touched his shoulder. He nodded at her in acknowledgement and smiled. She was a good friend.

Apart from his aunts condition, what bothered him the most was how three of the dwarves he had taken into custody would always force him to glare so they'd look forward once more as they were always looking back to Mäetharanel. What had she been doing with them? Had they held her prisioner until then? Had they hurt her? Threatened her? Made her starve or tortured her? He vowed to give them all a very merciless and slow death if they had harmed his mother's sister in anyway.

Three of the dwarves were constantly trying to approach him. Legolas had to glare and the guards had to push them away so they wouldn't approach more than he felt comfortable with. At first, he thought they meant to harm him and to take advantage of Mäetharanels condition and kill her, but he regarded their movements and concluded they meant to retrieve his aunt. Did they mean to take her into their custody once more? What had she been doing with them? Had they hurt her? Threatened her? Made her starve or tortured her? He vowed to give them all a very merciless and slow death if they had harmed his mother's sister in anyway.

As they lead the dwarves inside the tall wooden doors of the Woodland Realm, Legolas felt observed, but as he turned around, he found nothing. Frowning, he turned to walk forward, Mäetharanel secure in his arms, pale and shaking, but at least she was were she belonged, with them, back at home. He could not help but to fear the reaction his father would have upon seeing her.

But Legolas had been right, there was someone behind. An invisible hobbit walked past the bridge leading inside King Thranduil's home, quickly running inside before the gates closed, determined to help his companions.

----------------------------

* - water, hear my call

** - the water refuses me... I, it's daughter...

*** - why?

**** - Are the spiders dead?

***** - Yes, but more will come

****** - They're growing bolder

******* - This is an ancient elvish blade

******** - Forged by my kin

********* - Take them!

Chapter Text

They were thrown inside cells. The elves were still searching them and Fili was still having weapons taken from his clothes. He sighed in frustration when they tookwhat had been his last dagger.

"This is not the end of it! Ye hear me!?", shouted an angry Dwalin as he was pushed inside his cell.

"Let us out of here!", Gloin was very upset over the fact they were being arrested.

"Get off me!", protested Dori as he too was rougly pushed.

"Are you not going to search me?", asked young Kili as Tauriel stood outside his open cell, "I could have anything inside my trousers", Tauriel paused and touched the bars that would close the cell.

"Or nothing", replied the woman as she slammed the door closed, amused. As she walked away Kili smiled a little. Tauriel had been about to walk past Legolas when he intercepted her.

"I Nogoth amman e tîr gin, Tauriel?*", questioned the Prince, obviously jealous.

"Ú-dangada?*", and she stared away from the prince, and smiling dreamily she kept on speaking, "E orchal be Nogoth...*", she stiffened and the smile quickly dropped from her face as if she just noticed what she had said, "Pedithig*?"

"Orchal eb vui, mal uvanui en*", remarked Legolas as he glared at Kili who answered with one of his own, before turning away and leaving.

Dwalin and the others kept on throwing themselves against their prison in vain, for it did nothing more that leave their shoulders aching. Balin, who had enough of their stupidity, finally spoke.

"Leave it! There's no way out. This is no Orc dungeon; these are the halls of the Woodland Realm! No one leaves here but by the king's consent", and they resented and slumped against their sit or the ground. Thorin had been taken to the elven king and with him, all their hope. They'd have to wait.

Mäetharanel fought against her eyes so they would allow her to dream just a little bit more. They were still heavy after all, but it was a battle she lost. Slowly blinking them open, she buried her face more in the pillow and began thinking about how confortable the sheets felt against her skin and how the bed was- wait. A bed? Mäetharanel was in bed!?

"I am in bed?", she shot up and looked around, in a panic, "Where am I? Thorin?", and then she remembered the forest, the spiders, the elves, "No... No, no, no! NO!", she would recognise where she was even if she had gone blind, the smell of the wood all around her was difficult to forget. Looking to her right side, she faced her own reflexion on the mirror she knew would be there, "I should not have left Elrond. Why did I leave?", her forehead fell against her open palms and she breathed deeply, trying to calm herself to no vail. Of course she had been taken back! The first time she waltzed inside the forest and they took her back! The last thing she remembered was being helped by Dwalin after they defeated the spiders that had threatened their life, and then falling. Grumbling, she stood up and went to get dressed.

As she walked outside the room servants glanced at her as if seeing a ghost. Her white dress was long and it trailed after her on the floor, her baby blue long cape protected her bare arms that had thin straps of satin cloth holding her dress over her body, her hair was still slightly wet but they had not touched her courting braid; it seemed her temper was still well remembered. Her feet took her to the place she dreaded the most, for she knew who would be there. But she would face her problems head on once more, after all, she had to know what had happened to Thorin and the rest of their company.

Just on the other side of the tall doors, the King under the Mountain stood in the presence of yet another King, Thranduil, and his urges to strangle his neck were tingling. Oh, how he had wanted to spit and curse at that man... He sat in his throne as if he was not only king to Mirkwood, but to the whole Middle-earth, with a leg slung over an arm of the throne, while slowly reading the scroll in his hands. Taking his sweet time to regard Thorin's presence and enfuriating him more and more. Finally, he arranged himself in the throne, put the scroll in a small round table and stood up while fixing his royal robes.

"Some may imagine that a noble quest is at hand", Thranduil walked down the steps of his throne, "A quest to reclaim a homeland and slay a dragon", in the plataform, standing a few feet in front of the dwarf, the elf king began circling him, "I myself suspect a more prosaic motive: attempted burglary, or something of that ilk", and then he stopped and looked straight at Thorin, "You have found a way in. You seek that which would bestow upon you the right to rule: the King's Jewel, the Arkenstone... It is precious to you beyond measure. I understand that", nodded the blonde, and that was no lie that came from his lips, "There are gems in the mountain that I too desire. White gems of pure starlight", he slightly bowed his head, in a sign of respect, and closed his eyes, "I offer you my help", Thorin looked down and the corner of his mouth went up.

"I am listening", and he looked back at the elf.

"I will let you go, if you but return what is mine", the son of Thráin turned his back and started walking around.

"A favor for a favor", clarified the brunette.

"You have my word. One king to another", Thranduil truly knew how to speak. It was a pity that he could not care less, not when he could never forgive nor forget what had been done. Facing away from the other king and into the vast area around them, his voice increased in volume as he spoke.

"I would not trust Thranduil, the great king, to honor his word should the end of all days be upon us!", so loud he had been, that Mäetharanel heard him outside and cursed lowly. Her blue eyes pinned the guards that had been looking at her for awhile now.

"Open the doors", commanded the princess, trying to remain calm.

"Yes, princess", and her eyes met with the throne room she was so used to. She had never seen Thorin in it, but she had seen his anger many times and could understand, right from the bottom of the stairs, that her lover was livid. Waiting, she remained there after the guards closed the doors.

"You lack all honor!", Thorin had turned around and pointed a finger at the taller king, "I've seen how you treat your friends! We came to you once, starving, homeless, seeking your help, but you turned your back. You turned away from the suffering of my people and the inferno that destroyed us!", letting his hand fall, he spoke his next words with nothing but hatred, "Imrid amrad ursul!!*", Mäetharanel frowned and began walking. He had gone too far.

"Do not talk to me of dragon fire! I know its wrath and ruin", Thranduil got very close to Thorin, his face contorted as he spoke and the glamour he had on his face dissipated. His scars could be clearly seen, "I have faced the great serpents of the north...", Thorin had been about to answer when someone spoke instead of him.

"Thorin, enough!", he stiffened and turned around. His love was well, how relieved he was. He meant to grab her and smell her hair and caress her face, he meant to whisper sweet nothing's in her ear and to tell her how seeing her once more was a blessing given by Mahal, but as he saw her, nothing made sense. After she walked up the last step on the stairs, her figure was almost strange to him. His eyes, that had been analysing her body for any apparent injury stopped in the circlet that sat on her forehead and he frowned. That was no accessorie, it was a crown.

"Mäetharanel?", she made to approach him but he took a step back, "what in the world are you wearing?", whispered the dwarf. When his elf looked down, obvious shame on her expression, betrayal consumed him, "What is this?", spat out Oakenshield.

"Thorin, you must listen", she tried to get close to him once more but he lifted his hand and she stopped, "I meant to tell you, truly, I did, but-"

"To tell me what!? What is it you have to say for yourself!?", not used to his anger towards her, she had to stop a wince from leaving her lips, "What is your relationship with him!?", he looked at her up and down once more, "Dressing all regal like that, there is only one thing you can be to him!", her eyes began widening at what he was assuming, "You're his wife, aren't you!?", yelled Thorin.

"WHAT!? Thorin, no-", the acusation felt heavy deep in her heart. She had given herself to him, they had spoken of it just days ago!

"Mäetharanel", looking at her brother by law for the first time, his agitated gaze betrayed his calm composture, "Trying to reason with him is in vain", he turned to glare at the dwarven king, "He is just like his grandfather."

"No, n-no!", her stuttering made him believe he was completely correct, "Thorin, no, you're wrong!", she never stuttered. Thranduil, who still knew her well and saw the distress building up in her mind, made a motion with his hand and guards came to take the dwarf.

"You are truly lost. Stay here if you will, and rot!", yelled the king of the realm they were in, "A hundred years is a mere blink in the life of an elf", his gaze glared blankly at the other before he turned his back and began going up the stairs, "I am patient. I can wait", and Mäetharanel's lover was taken away.

Her shaking hands curled in a ball and she grit her teeth, hard. Damn his stubborness! Thorin had just lost his only chance of leaving unarmed and fast. Following the same path Thranduil had just walked, she sat down on the last step before the throne. There was yet another battle she had to face.

"Where have you gone away to?", came an hissing voice from above her and she looked up, "Have you gone deaf?", Thranduil appeared to be a snake.

"Where I have gone to is not concerning", answered the princess while bringing her knees up to her chest and hugging them, "I needed sometime away from here, away from the life we lead", she heard him stand up but refused to look back at him, "I needed to reflect, but I... I did not know it would take me so long."

"You did not think it would take so long? Mäetharanel do you even understand what happened the moment you left?", she took a deep breath before finally turning to look at him, "Legolas was restless every night for months, every night he would go look for you. No matter how many times we tried reasuring him that you would come back, he did not listen, he put himself in danger, for you", he was accusing her, rightfully. Had she not come to his home to defend his son from him?, "Galion considered truly retiring, I almost lost my right-hand man, Mäetharanel! You cannot begin to understand how many letters that man sent, or how many times he went to Doriath to see for himself that you were not back, for he did not believe you would be so reckless as to leave your realm."

"I left a substitute there should-"

"We know you did, the man informed us, because you weren't capable of even doing that. Do you understand what happened when you left with no warning? Your father fell deeper in his depression, Mäetharanel! He was always away, hunting and being reckless", he was yelling by the end of his speech. Mäetharanel faced him head on and glared.

"Don't you dare accuse me of making my father worse!", yelled the princess right back at him, "I needed answers and now I got them! Had I stayed, nothing would be different! I would come back eventually", his forehead pressed against hers and she frowned deeply.

"You are standing in my presence only because my son found you unconscious with a company of DWARVES that walked into MY FOREST illegally!", he spoke between his teeth, unblinking, and she was certain she would not leave the throne room to go inside her own. Oh no, she would be executed for killing the king.

"You dare say-", he separated himself from her like she had some disease.

"Legolas didn't kill them yet because he was patiently waiting for you to waken so he could question you about their motives and intentions towards you", Legolas? Legolas had been the one to take her back?, "The state he found you in was no good and he feared you were being threatened and-", that stopped her thinking of the apologies she'd have to give to her boy.

"I was like that because YOUR forest is sick! Because YOU let it get like that!", shouted the princess, "how dare you claim it when it is practically dead!? How dare you claim it is yours when the trees weep, the wind doesn't sing and the animals have left it!? How dare you claim it is yours when GREENWOOD is no more because it's foolish king was not careful enough to destroy the prime threat towards it and made it turn into the nest that Mirkwood is, Thranduil!?", he was surprised at her outburst but glared right away.

"It's origin is none of my concern-"

"It is when they keep on coming back!", her anger made breathing difficult and she could feel her eyes burn, "You just accused Thorin of being impossible to reason with, but what does this make you?", and with that she turned her back to him and walked away, leaving him to his thoughts as she made her way to the dungeons.

Near the kitchens, the dwarves had watched as their king was thrown into a prison of his own. He had been angrily walking around ever since they had thrown him there, occasionally hitting the walls or cursing loudly.

"Did he offer you a deal?", asked Balin, hopeful.

"He did", answered the angry king, "I told him he could go 'Ish kakhfê ai'd dur rugnu!' , him and all his kin!", yelled Thorin, so every elf would hear it. Balin sighed, nodded his head and smiled sadly.

"Well...that's it, then. A deal was our only hope", he let himself fall against his sit.

"Not our only hope", grumbled Thorin as Bilbo entered his mind. The sound of the heavy door of the prison opening had them all stand up, in defense. But when Fili's voice sounded all around them, shocked, they stiffened.

"MÄETH!?", his mouth was wide open as he took in her figure.

"Mäeth? Mäeth! Are you alright!?", Kili was trying to look at her but he was unable to.

"What, how? I don't understand... Why are you dressed like that?", not that he wasn't enjoying the view, the golden prince thought she looked very attractive, but why on earth? She approached him and smiled gently. He quickly took hold of the bars and looked into her eyes.

"Fili, my dear golden prince", and she kissed his knuckles before walking towards Kili's cell and sighing as she saw him well.

"Oi, Mäeth, why... What the hell are you doing wearing that!?", Nori, Dori and Ori also gasped as they saw her passing by their cell.

"In a minute my dear", and as she looked for Thorin's prison there were noises of surprise and Dwalin loudly questioning her, but she ignored it all. When she found him he was in the farthest wall, glaring so viciously at her that it hurt her physically, "Thorin, amrâlimê-"

"Do not call me that", hissed the king, and she fell down to her knees in front of him, her bottom lip shaking, her shoulders slumped.

"Please! You must let me explain, it has nothing to do with what you are thinking!", how come she wasn't being able to stop her tears? They began falling, but her lover merely growled and looked down, away from the scene.

"Are you related to Thranduil?", he spat the name out of his mouth.

"Yes. But-"

"Quiet! ", and some of the dwarves gasped. Never had they seen or heard their friend being aggressive towards the elf, "I needn't hear more lies from you!"

"Thorin, please! I am NOT his wife!", he had been about to interrupt her, "my sister was his wife! Do you remember? My sister? We spoke of her days ago!", she spoke fast and he became as stiff as a board, "I am a princess of the second branch of the Sindarin Elves, we rule Doriath and when my sister left after marrying Thranduil, I had to remain there for I was the only heir! I only came here because I could not bare to be away from her! I would never shame my sister's memory", breath, she needed to breath, but she couldn't stop talking or else he would not let her continue, "Please, Thorin, please understand", finally stopping, she let her tears fall how they wanted.

"How could I not see this?", whispered Balin.

"Why did you not tell me?", hissed her One.

"You would never have accepted me near you much less in this journey or even in Ered Luin!", she began panicking, and hyperventilating.

"Lass, breath", Dwalin's voice was becoming far away from her, but she did as he said. Closing her eyes, she began taking deep breaths. After sometime, she opened her eyes and saw Thorin right in front of her, worried, but still angry.

"Had you known I was related to Thranduil, even if not directly, that would have changed everything. Mithrandir helped me out of here decades ago for I needed answers and to get away. I now know what I have been searching for", her hand went through the bars and inside the cell, begging to be taken by Thorin's, "please", begged the elf. Thorin stared at her, watching her unfold. He knew she spoke the truth, he felt it, but the betrayal he felt was much deeper than that.

"How could you?", whispered the king, suddenly feeling very weak, "you understand what you did, you always did, yet you still lied. You betrayed me and this whole company by being false for every second around us!", she shook her head and he snorted, "no? Then what do you call what you did?"

"You would have sent me away, you know that, and you know what it feels like to be apart from your other half. I just hope you may find it in your heart to forgive me", and she stood up. Thorin cursed himself for thinking how beautiful she looked, how such a simple dress seemed like the most precious jewel, just because it was worn by her. Looking at her head the silver circlet she had on did nothing to hide the courting braid he had put there, even if she could have put it among those thick tresses of hers.

"I apologise to all of you and I hope you understand this was not done out of naught, for I truly feared your reactions... I-"

"My Lady Mäetharanel", a red haired elleth she hadn't seen appeared and regarded her with a gentle expression, as well as a respectful bow, "Prince Legolas asks for you."

"Certainly. Thank you...?"

"Tauriel, highness", and she bowed her head.

"Please, Mäetharanel is enough. Thank you once more, I will go to Legolas right away", and she did just that, leaving her heart in the dungeons.

She knew where her nephew was waiting for her, even without the other elf telling her. Walking outside, she began her path to the tree that had the targets nearby, the place where her boy had trained for a long time, and the place where she had given him a bow she had specially comissioned for him for when he got older. He has his back to her, but she would recognise him anywhere, anyway. The tall elf he had become also had a good bearing, it seemed he still trained as hard as when he was little. His long, blonde hair was partly tied behind his back and he wore green clothing with a sword strapped to his waist. The sound of the rusttling leaves made him turn to regard her and she stopped right in front of him. Silence engulfed them for long, both because Legolas was relieved upon seeing his aunt healthy and on her feet, and because Mäetharanel saw Vilissë in the now grown elf's eyes. No matter how alike Thranduil he looked, his eyes were Vilissë's. Her own smiled before her mouth did, and her boy began frowning.

"Legolas?", he appeared both sad and angry, "Legolas, my love, I-", but he brought her to his chest and held her tight. Her eyes wide, she returned the gesture almost immediatly and smelled him. She began silently crying as she noticed his smell was still the same, he was still her little boy, even if he was taller than her.

"I thought you dead," whispered her nephew, in pain, "We could not find you anywhere, not in your kingdom, not near the wizards, or in Imladris, or even in your special place", the border between Greenwood and the Misty Mountains, "Ada was so restless, I felt so powerless... Why?", he looked down at her, filled with grief, "what made you leave us? Leave me? ", and with helplessness consuming her, she brought his head to her shoulder and sobbed. Why had she become such a crybaby!? How could she tell him that watching him grow was like losing a part of herself because him going away would be inevitable? How could she say that every time she walked through the corridors Vilissë kept appearing everywhere? How could she tell him she earned for a life she had always persued, but couldn't because of her duties? She couldn't, she wouldn't. The prince would not be disappointed with her.

"I needed answers", and she truly did, "and now I have them."

"You are staying with us, then", that was not a question, and she smiled through the tears. That was much like his father, always demanding, never asking.

"Legolas, the answers I searched for brought me much, including things I cannot leave behind, no matter how much I want to... I have given myself to a cause, a noble one", he held her arms and rubbed them.

"You mean in Doriath? Have you been there before coming here? Is that were the dwarves caught you?", chuckling, she caressed his face.

"No, my dear child, no one caught me", he let go of her arms.

"You are saying you were with them because you wanted to?", he was perplexed. His aunt? Near dwarves, willingly no less? What had she found near them that she needed so much?

"When I left, I went to live with Mithrandir, Legolas", Gandalf the Grey, of course he was involved, "And I owed him for his hospitality. He asked that I should accompany him on a journey, a few years later, and that is how I got with the dwarves."

"So, the wizard forced you?", she shook her head, "It makes no sense, auntie."

"I did not expect it to", she crossed her arms, "Forgive me for not giving you reasons to murder them, but I am very willing to participate in their quest", he made an unpleased noise and she smiled, "I want nothing more than to go to Doriath, Legolas, trust me. I miss my home very much and it has been long since I have had any news from them", when her nephew became somber, she raised an eyebrow, "Legolas?"

"Has my father told you?", he met her eyes and she frowned. Thranduil meant to tell her something?

"Told me what?", her arms went slack be her side, "Is it urgent?"

"All in it's due time", he kissed her forehead and ignored her thoughtful expression, "Ada knows what he does. Please, consider staying, aunt Mäetharanel. You belong here, with us, not with those... dwarves", and he turned around and left. Wondering what the king meant to tell her would do no good, so she went after her answers.

The second time she appeared in front of the throne room, the guards did not need to wait for her order and opened the door right away.

"Her majesty, Mäetharanel from Doriath!", annouced the guard, before helping his companion close the doors.

"Have you been with Legolas yet?", he looked at her from his throne, following her form with his eyes as she went up the stairs. When she reached him, he recognised the finality in her gaze and groaned before taking a sip of the wine glass he held, "Mäetharanel, it has been a long day, I-"

"You cannot do this Thranduil", she had not taken pity on him. He was a king, kings had difficult days, "they had no other option but to take that course, the others are completely impossible to go through", he sat straight in his throne, ready to fight back.

"They could still take them", answered the king, "they have made those nuisances even more restless. Tauriel informed me that the group she had left there had to call for reinforcements."

"Do you truly wish them so bad, you fool!?", he stood up and she glared up at him, "they merely wish for their home! They wish for their people to be safe and to have somewhere where their families can finally settle and need not fear going to anywhere else!" he walked down from the throne and got near her before closing his eyes, "Are you even listening to me!? Thranduil, don't ignore me!", his eyes opened and he touched her lower stomach, "what are you-"

"Have you been feeling any tenderness in this zone?", she stared at him. How did he know?

"I have, it has been bothering me for some time now", she shook her head, "Do not change the subject."

"I am not, believe me", he stood straight and his arm went around her to touch her lower back, "And in here?"

"Thranduil, I have been travelling, as you well know, it is only normal that my body aches", he looked at her chest next, "What do you think you're looking at?", she crossed her arms and he gave her a disgusted expression.

"You have not noticed anything different in yourself?", she seemed taken aback, and after some time thinking she shook her head, "Are they taking that much time from you that you don't even have time to notice such an obvious thing?", he spoke as if he did not believe her and she sighed, angry.

"Stop speaking in riddles, Thranduil, out with it", he stood straight and nodded.

"Very well then", after a long pause, one she was about to interrupt by filling her lungs and giving a piece of her mind for making her lose time like that, he finally said it, "You are with child."

"Excuse me?", whispered the woman. It made no sense, it could not be, "have you gone completely-"

"Mäetharanel", he spoke calmly before grabbing her hand, gently, "feel", and as he put her hand in her stomach, her eyes closed and after some time, she felt it. A tiny heartbeat.

"Oh, by the Valar", but a lot began making sense, her being breathless, the pain she felt in her back, the tenderness on her stomach, "Oh, how could this be?", she looked at Thranduil who gave her a pityfull look, "No, don't look at me like that, don't you dare!", she grabbed the sides of her head and clenched her hair, "how could I be so stupid!?"

"What now?", asked the king, "you certainly can not keep those thoughts of yours. The best course to take would be for you to stay here or return to Doriath", he went to sit back on his throne, "stop walking in circles, Mäetharanel."

"No, you don't understand!", she stopped and faced his way, "We have a journey to finish, we should be getting their home back! How am I supposed to carry a child while I fight for-", her voice was raising too much for her liking, "Thranduil, I can't", whispered the princess.

"Yes, you can", he slung a leg over a side of the throne and leaned back against the other, "I would not turn you away, as wouldn't Doriath, not now, especially", how could he be so calm!? "I do not understand, you should be well on your way to finshing your gestation. Your stomach is not so large, of course, those brutes eat nothing good for us, but how could you not notice?"'

"If you ask me that one more time-", hissed the elf, glaring into his green eyes while touching her middle.

"Oakenshield has began a political issue", interrupted the king and panic began raising inside her, "he will father an elven child now. As if him wanting to face a dragon was not enough, he had to do something worse. Legolas has found the reason he needed to end them all."

"No!", her eyes widened, her figure got rigid, "Thranduil, Legolas cannot know!"

"You truly wish to put your child in such risk?", she went quiet and he chuckled, "certainly, as you wish. I will give you some time to think", she raised an eyebrow, "As I said, I am patient. Give me your answer whenever you feel it is certain. Your dwarves will remain down there for as long as I feel."

"You're impossible."

"And they are trespassers", he leaned his chin against the back of his hand, "go rest, Mäetharanel. Perhaps your bed will be able to keep you here."

"You are no fool, Thranduil. You know it is not as easy as that", but she began her journey down the stairs. The guards opened the door without command, and when she walked outside, she felt much heavier.

A child. She and Thorin would be parents. After nodding to the door keepers, she began her path to her rooms, all while holding her warm stomach.

*- Why does the Dwarf stare at you, Tauriel?

** - How would I know?

*** - He's quite tall for a Dwarf...

**** - Do you not think?

***** - Taller than some, but no less ugly.

****** - Die a death of flames!!

******* - I spit upon your grave!

Chapter Text

The day began early, as it always did in the Woodland Realm. Finally, the princess and Galion had been together. After he scolded and pampered her at the same time, their time was cut short as guards called for the butler and after promising he would search for her later, there he went.

She wished nothing more than to spend her day in the dungeons with the dwarves, but instead, the library of the king made her hostage. She found herself realizing that she missed the elvish words that were part of her. A pile of books stood by her side, books she had meant to read, until someone disturbed her peace.

"Good morning, Mäetharanel", quickly, she sat up on the long sofa she had been laying down on. Thranduil regarded her with his hands inside the sleeves of his long coat, his crown was missing from his head, "I take it you already feel back at home."

"Why, I thought I was at ease anywhere in your kingdom?", shaking his head he turned his back to her.

"Come, lunch is served", frowning, the princess began standing up.

"Lunch?", she glared at his shaking head. and when she looked outside, the sun was way up in the sky, "Oh dear, it seems I stayed here the whole morning", setting down the book, she stood up and followed after the king.

"I hear you have been with Galion", he took her through the corridors and acknowledged all the bows people gave him.

"So, Galion told you we were together", he raised an eyebrow and she smiled, "Yes, Thranduil, your butler amused me before we were rudely interrupted by some guard saying the king had no wine in the cellar."

"It is what happens when Mereth Nuin Giliath is close", the door to the room they would eat in was opened, and the king motioned for her to go inside first, "Or have you also forgotten our festivities?", ignoring him, she sat down in a chair near his, that was on the end of the table.

During lunch time, Galion appeared and spoke in whispers to the king that nodded in the end. Passing by her, Galion smiled and patted her shoulder and she smiled right back at him. He remained the same. 

After they finished their meal, servants took their plates and the remains off the table and Thranduil stood up and lead her near the fireplace by holding her hand. After sitting her down, he put a heavy blanket on top of her legs and she raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you mothering me?", asked the princess while putting herself comfortable on the tall, comfy chair. Thranduil himself sat down and faced her with a serious expression.

"What news have you got from Doriath?", she turned to look at the flames and shook her head.

"I have none, for I did not seek my kingdom. Should they need me, they are well aware of how to find me", the king chuckled and she glared while pulling at the skin in the end of her fingernails, hidden inside the blanket, "Legolas told me there is something you should inform me of", he nodded.

"There is", despite the seriousness in his expression, his voice came very gentle, "You should have known it by now, for if they know how to find you, then this should have reached you long ago", he stood up and reached inside his pockets, "It is irresponsible they have not told you of it." 

"Thranduil, the person I left taking care of my matters knows what they are doing", he nodded once more, "If they did not tell me, it cannot be that urgent, besides, my father-", taking a deep breath, the king spoke fast.

"Mäetharanel, your father has fallen in battle", it took her some moments to process what he had said. 

It was as if Vilissë had died again, it was as if her whole world had crumbled. She stared at him as he came to her holding a ring. Her father's deep blue and silver ring. He gave it to her, but all she did was stare at it, trying to access the situation as calmly as she could, trying to not bring out what she was holding inside her heart and her mind, trying to appear composed and reserved, but her shaking hands told the king otherwise. He knew what she was feeling far too well. 

"What did this?", whispered the she-elf. She took a deep, shaken breath, and closed her eyes.

She had to remind herself that the tears were falling without restraint because she carried a child, and her emotions were not so well held. It all made sense now: the water's reaction to her, Beorn's strange attitude, Mithrandir not looking at her like he did for so many years, Legolas looking at her with a sad gaze, the pain inside of her... it all made sense.

"Orcs", her eyebrow twitched, her nostrils widened, "Doriath was not left unprotected, it seems the one you appointed as your substitute is taking good care of every matter", the look Thranduil gave her was not new to her. He had looked at her like that when Vilissë hugged her when she woke up in their bed, her injuries much too bad for her to even be able to move, "Mäetharanel, leave them", looking up at him, it seemed he broke her out of a spell, "Go take your position, they need you much more than these dwarves that have set their minds on something impossible. Erebor was taken, they cannot defeat a dragon, no matter how determined they are, it is impossible."

"I slayed a dragon for you", whispered the princess while bringing the ring to her chest, hugging it close to her heart.

"You had nothing to fear for", her other hand went to her stomach as he spoke, and she looked down, "Go secure your people, the Woodland Realm will not leave its kin, I would not leave you alone."

Staring at him, she felt helpless and confused. Looking down once more, she put the ring on her ring finger on her right hand, stood up, arranged her clothing and put the blanket behind her, on the chair. Thranduil stared as she moved around, absolutely certain that she regretted returning.

"I have much to think about now. Thank you for informing me of this, Thranduil", and she left.

Her feet took her right to where her heart made her go to. The dungeons were not so cold as she walked to them, her pulse fast, her breath labored and as the guard felt her approaching, he turned to her.

"My Queen-", her heart clenched at the title. They addressed her correctly, but it was against her will.

"Give me the keys", he stiffened, and she glared, "NOW!", he did so and she fumbled with the key that would open the prison before going inside and slamming the door closed.

She went past Gloin who asked her something, but she couldn't hear anything, only her own blood rushing. Dori stared at her with a panicked expression, Dwalin called after her and Fili and Kili stared at her, worried. As soon as she reached the end of the path her hands shook as she put the key into the keyhole. 

Thorin's deep grey eyes stared at her, and he frowned. All of her shook violently, her bottom lip was a mess and slightly bloody, little sobs came from her mouth and when she opened the cell, she walked inside, closed it, threw the key somewhere and walked right to him. 

"Mäeth-", but she merely flung herself at him and wept and sobbed and yelled into his shoulder and he was so shocked that it took him some moments to bring her into his chest even more, "What have they done to you...?", whispered the king, but she merely shook her head and kept on sobbing loudly. 

Thorin sighed and frowned even more, the last time he had held someone like this it had been Dis, and Thráin was no more. Suddenly, she fell to her knees, and he wasn't fast enough to catch her. Her arms folded on his knees and her shaking shoulders were the only thing he could see among all her hair that was soon being caressed by his big hand. He just let her cry.

"My father", came her muffled voice, "My father is no more Thorin. Princess Mäetharanel is no more, either..." her eyes met with his, and he saw nothing inside them.

"Mäeth? Mäeth are you alright?", Ori had woken up, sweet dear Ori who she could not give an answer to.

"Here Ori, keep on resting", Nori gently made his brother lay back down in Dori's lap, who started caressing the younger's hair, and he fell asleep in no time.

Thorin had been like that too, when every responsibility fell on his shoulders. A part of him was glad she had come to meet him right away, the other made him even more angry, coming to the Woodland Kingdom brought them nothing but pain.

"I am here", whispered the King, while caressing her pale face, "I am here, for you", but she could only whimper and shake "What now?", he had to ask, even if he knew the answer to it.

"I", she sighed deeply and her hands still shook when she wiped at her eyes, "I must go to Doriath, I must go to assume my responsabilities. I left someone capable, but they have no business taking care of such important matters...", Thorin shook his head.

"No", she was in pain, not thinking correctly, "You will not go on your own", he would not allow it.

"Am I to stay here, in comfort, while Doriath may fall? No", she shook with rage at the thought, her teeth gritted, "They have done enough. First, my sister, and now my father is gone because of them."

"Orcs took your father, too", she nodded and let out a shaky breath, "I swear to you", his eyes met with hers and she listened, "They will not remain for long. And should they do, they will be crippled", promised the King. But she could not smile, she could not encourage him. She could only look down, and hesitate before speaking her thougts.

"Thorin, you wish to regain Erebor. The Valar know that if I was in your position, I would want nothing else too. I would stop at nothing to reconquer my home", she craddled his hands in hers, her thumb gently caressed the back of his hand, "Please, listen to me, do not be upset", whispered the elf, and he frowned, "Let us join our kingdoms", then, his eyes widened, first in shock, then they filled with rage, until finally they only held disbelief, "Understand I do not say this to-", he stood up, and walked away from her.

"How can you ask this of me?", he understood her grief, he had felt it too, but this was insanity to him, "Mäetharanel, this is no whim of mine. This is my homeland we speak of! Taken from thousands of dwarves, taken from my family. My family, that was also partially taken from me", he shook his head, still not believing "'tis not a matter of pride, it is about letting them rest in peace, finally."

"Thorin, give it some thought, please", she begged him, what else could she do? "Think about the strength of Doriath and Ered Luin, together! You have estabelished everyone there, you worked harder than anyone! Please, think about it, for all of them, for this alliance that will give us much", for me, and for our child that grows within me, she had wished to tell him.

"No. Leave this matter at once, I will do no such thing, I have not risked so much for it to be denied because you are suffering", it felt like a slap to her face,"How many of us have suffered too? Cease your delusions", she would not weep. She was not about to give him that satisfaction. Standing up, she gave him one last look, nodded, and without looking at him, she apologised. 

"My deepest apologies, Thorin", and she left, not looking at any of the other dwarves, not even at Fili whose eyes followed her closely, not even at Kili whose eyes stared at her with saddness.

The corridors and stairs of the woodland palace were so dark, so silent despite her screaming mind. Slowly walking through the place she knew by heart, many thoughts assaulted her; should she leave them and return home? Should she plead to Thranduil to let them go, so they could finally conquer what they wished? Should she contact Doriath and tell them her wishes to return? No, none of it made sense. 

As she walked inside her room, her hands went to her hair and she gripped and let herself sink down against the door, wanting nothing else but to scream at the air, to damn everything and go away again. An urgent knock made her jump, and when someone forced the door open, she was ready to throw hands, until Galion appeared, and her glare fell.

"Oh, Galion, I...", a sob made her whole frame shake, and the other brought her to his arms.

"Mäetharanel, all will be well, come", he brought her to her bed and they both sat down, "Please, if not for me, then for the one you carry", that made her sob more.

"I am harming my child, Galion!", he cursed when she held her stomach, tight, "How have I not noticed this!?"

"Easy, easy", the taller elf began rubbing her back, "You know of them, now", he gently caressed her hair, "We will get you food that is good for you, come", she shook her head and he sighed, "I will carry you, if you do not come", she looked up at him and sniffed, "You know I will, don't test me", he was angry. 

Mäeth stood up, and held Galion's hand through the long corridors. Looking around, she saw that everything was the same, except for some missing artwork. The elves, that had always respected her, bowed deeper than ever. It reminded her that her Ada was not waiting for her. 

"Aerin, bring us something so Queen Mäetharanel can eat, please", the woman bowed down and quickly went to fetch what was asked, "Sit for a bit, rest your feet", he began muttering under his breath, and despite her swollen eyes and red cheeks, she managed a smile when she catched what he was saying, "Stubborn dwarves, not even caring that you are a lady", the woman returned with a plate full of greens, and her eyes could not leave it.

"Here, my lady", she set it in front of her, "We will bring more, if you want it."

"Thank you, Aerin", nodded the monarch, before digging in. 

"Valar bless you", Galion watched as she ate everything, "They starved you!", and she stopped to look around herself.

"Shush, they did not", she shook her head, "They just don't have the same diet as we do", and the other rolled his eyes.

On the other side of the palace, Bilbo walked around, invisible. Going down a corridor, he kept on searching for the dwarves, until he the Elvenking appeared right in front of him. Holding his breath, he quickly stepped back. 

"I know you're there. Why do you linger in the shadows?", the hobbit froze. This was how it ended, he was going to-

"I was coming to report to you-", the elf that walked by the prince's side appeared, and Bilbo allowed himself to breath.

"I thought I gave orders for that nest to be destroyed not two moons past?", the king began walking around.

"We cleared the forest as ordered, my Lord, but more spiders keep coming up from the South", explained Tauriel, "We now know that they are spawning in the ruins of Dol Guldur. If we could kill them at their source -", stiffening, Thranduil stared ahead.

"No. That fortress lies beyond our borders. Keep our lands clear of these foul creatures, that is your task", no one would approach the place that took... his eyes closed, and he breathed out, slowly.

"When we drive them off, what happens then? Will they not spread to other lands?", Bilbo watched the confrontation as he walked part them, meaning to reach the doorway that would let him go out of the chamber.

"Other lands are not my concern. The fortunes of the world will rise and fall-", he resumed his pacing,"But here, in this Kingdom, we will endure", Tauriel bowed down, but remained unconvinced. The Elvenking hesitated, sensing around himself. His eyes look towards where Bilbo is, still invisble, and now slipping through the doorway, "Legolas said you fought well today ... He has grown very fond of you", he had turned back to Tauriel, his gaze softer.

"I assure you My Lord, Legolas thinks of me as no more than a Captain in the Guard", smiling, Tauriel began thinking about the possibility of something more.

"Perhaps he did once, but now", Thranduil shook his head, "I am not so sure", he walked past her and she looked down, shocked. Was the King allowing them to-?

"I do not think you would allow your son to pledge himself to a lowly Silvan Elf", said the elf, unbelieving.

"No - you are right", she stiffened, "I would not. Still - he cares about you - do not give him hope when there is none", and she walked out, her hope lost.

Night time came, and with it, Bolg. Followed by warg scouts, he watched as the front gates were guarded. Looking towards Narzug, he decided they'd find another way inside.

"Kom glozyash. Shûgi golgai ... tud dâdnu!*", his father wished for Oakenshield, and they'd get him.

Young Kili sat in the floor of his cell, against the cold, rock wall. In his hand, a gemstone was being turned absentmindedly between his fingers. Much stole his thougts, but above everything, he wanted to leave so they could reclaim Erebor and bring his mother back to her real home. 

"The stone in your hand, what is it?", Kili tightned his hold on the stone, and stared at Tauriel, his eyes filled with urgency and fear.

"It is a talisman; a powerful spell lies upon it, if any but a dwarf read the runes on this stone they will be forever cursed...", the captain face him sharply, the thought of being cursed not a favoured on. Kili grinned, and shrugged and she felt more at ease, " Or not... depending on whether you believe in that kind of thing", he opened his hand and extended it so Tauriel could look at the stone, "It's just a token - a rune stone. My mother gave it to me so I would remember my promise", the elf looked at it, and saw runes. The light that came from above almost seemed to be reserved for it.

"What promise?", asked the woman.

"That I would come back to her. She worries, she thinks I'm reckless...", remembering his mother brought nothing but a deep yearning to him, he missed her.

"Are you?", he smiled his charming smile, that Mäetharanel always compared to his uncle's.

"Nah-", but then, he flipped the rune stone in the air, and did not catch it. 

It skidded across the floor, and Kili watched as it got closer and closer to the edge of the stairs. He had stood up and grabbed the door of his prison, watching in aprehension as it was truly about to fall, unitl Tauriel stopped it with her foot. Picking it up, she held it and looked at the stone, before handing it to the prince.

"Sounds like quite a party you're having up there", noted the shorter being, while looking up.

"It is Mereth e-n Gilith, the Feast of Starlight",  she hesitated. Why would a dwarf wish to know about their customs? But Kili waited for her to finish, patiently, so she spoke about it, quietly, "All light is sacred to the Eldar, but Wood Elves love best the light of the stars", she looked up, a gentle smile in her face as she contemplated the light.

"I have always thought it is a cold light, remote and far away", Kili looked up, too

"It is memory - precious and pure ... like your promise. I have walked there, sometimes - beyond the forest, up into the night ... I have seen the world fall away and the white light of forever fill the air", and Kili did not know if it was truly there or not, but a light appeared around the elf, and he stared at her in wonder. Shaking his head, he began speaking.

"I saw a fire-moon once", Tauriel listened closely, while sititng down in the stairs near his cell, "It rose over the pass near Dunland... Huge and red gold it was. It filled the sky...", as the dwarf spoke of the places he had been to and the sights he had seen, a tall figure went unnoticed by them. 

"Legolas", looking back, the prince faced his aunt, properly dressed for the feast that would happen soon, "Is everything alright?", when he looked down again, Legolas heard her sigh, "You're upset", he looked her up and down, taking in how her loose dress still made her look wonderful. Looking down once again, he saw the other two still speaking, and giving them one last glare, he turned around.

"I am not", grabbing her face with his hands, Legolas looked at her face, at her hair that now had large curls and some braids in it, and nodded. She raised an eyebrow, had he been examining her?

"I know you are", she looked into his eyes and smiled, "You still glare, much like you did when you were small", he returned her smile with one of his own, and shook his head, "Oh, no? If you could see yourself...", and she hugged him, gently.

"What are you doing down here?", he raised an eyebrow, "Have you come to see your dwarf?", stiffening, the Queen looked at him with panic in her gaze, and he chuckled.

"Your father said he would not tell you!", hissed the woman.

"Even if he did not, this would", his fingers grabbed her courting braid and he let them run down until he catched the bead, showing it to his aunt, "Honestly, auntie, Thorin Oakenshield?", she grabbed the braid and let it fall beneath all her hair, "You are not staying here, let's go upstairs", and as he lead her, his hand on her lower back, she looked back to try and get a glance of Thorin, "You must tell me how that happened, more precisely", she swallowed the lump in her throat, "And if it will last", she heard the threat in his voice, but her shoulders relaxed. The King had not told him of her pregnancy, after all.

She did not see her love. As the voices inside the huge room where the feast was being held got louder, and the doorman announced both of them, Mäetharanel closed her eyes, and made sure that her nerves were settled. 

Touching her lower stomach, she heard her child. Smiling, her eyes opened and she walked towards Thranduil, who had been speaking with some lord. He extended his arm, and waited for her hand to take his. 

When she did grab it, her eyes turned to look back, but her nephew was no longer standing there. The lord bowed down, and addressed her. 'My Queen', he had said. Her eyes met Thranduils, who still held her hand and he nodded, giving her the push she needed to begin speaking with all of them. 

Mäetharanel was a Queen, a Queen without her King. Galion stood by their side throught the night, bringing her food and drink (and he himself drank quite a bit) and taking her to the nearest chair whenever he saw her sseking a more comfortable position. 

Thranduil would not be far, too. The butler stood by them, until another approached, speaking in quiet whispers to her friend, who nodded before turning to look at her. He catched her bringing a pastry to her mouth, one that stopped halfway. Her eyes looked at him as if she had been caught redhanded and he stared.

"My Gods", he shook his head, and she quickly ate the small cake.

"I swear, if you say they starved me, again...", he held his hands up, "What is the matter?", she took a sip of water and winced when a small foot kicked her rib, "You little brute", whispered the elf while rubbing at the spot, "Just like your Ada..."

"It seems the wine has stopped coming, I must see what is going on", nodding, she looked down, but Galion knew that look, "What is the matter?", he returned the question to her.

"I've been craving meat", he had been sipping his own wine, but choked, "Please?", his friend, that always wanted for nothing more than greens and fruits, wanted meat? 

"I'll", he coughed some more, "I'll see what I can do", and he put his cup down by hers, "You should stay sitted, your feet must be killing you", then, he put an arm around her shoulder and pointed with his chin. She cringed at the smell of wine, but laughed when he rubbed his face against her cheek, "Thranduil is right over there, see?"

"Galion, you're drunk", deadpanned the Queen, "And I am no child, remember?", he laughed and turned away, going to the kitchens, no doubt, "But I am to have a child, one that appears to have their father's appetite", and when Thranduil approached with a lady, she stood up, slowly, and nodded when the other bowed down.

How much of this she could take, Mäetharanel did not know. Her patience had thinned for these meetings, no longer did she have the resistance to fake smiles or whispers. Rubbing her lower back, she sat down once Thranduil left with the other woman. 

Galion returned, obviously distraught, and quickly walked towards the King. Speaking in hurried whispers, she saw her brother by law hissing something, the butler nodding, and then he pratically ran out of the room. Stiffening, she stood up and slowly merged into the crowd. Something happened, something bad.

When Thranduil looked towards where he had last seen her, he growled quietly. The dwarves were gone, and now she was nowhere to be seen!? 

*The gates are guarded. Not all of them -follow me!

Chapter Text

Before Galion returned to the large room, he had been in the kitchens. Most precisely, he had gone to attend to a matter in the cellars that held the King's wine, that was no longer being taken inside. The stockpile of barrels told him all he needed to know. Chuckling, he shook his head, and soon, another joined him, searching around for something.

"Galion, you old rogue, we are running out of drink - these empty barrels should have been sent back to Esgaroth hours ago", Galion looked at him, an open flagon of red wine in hand, "The bargemen will be waiting for them", Bilbo, making use of his ring, peered from behind a wall, invisible.

"Say what you like about our ill-tempered King, but he has excellent taste in wine", he was the King's personal butler, no one would take what he had just said as something bad. Oh, the things he had to attend to... Shaking his head, he nudged a stool towards Elros, with his foot "Come - Elros, try it. Such a draught is worthy of respect", the other hesitated, a large bundle of keys hanged from his belt. Keys that held the dwarves' freedom.

"I have the Dwarves in my charge", said the elf, his hand straying to the keys.

"They are locked up - where can they go?!", the other laughed, hanged the bundle of keys in a hook nearby and clinked his flagon against Galion's. Taking a long swing, he began coughing, and Galion laughed loudly.

Nearby, the dwarves were quiet. Bofur, laying down in his cell, sighed.

"I'll wager the sun is on the rise... it must be nearly dawn...", another day had passed, another day that they did not spend reaching their home.

We're never going to reach the Mountain, are we?", Ori was sad. No one answered him, they were not brave enough. Until...

"Not stuck in here, you're not", Bilbo appeared and Thorin looked up. Looking towards the door of his cell, the King saw him holding a bunch of keys. Putting the ring inside the safety of his pocket, Bilbo began by opening Balin's door.

"Bilbo!", spoke the dwarves in unison, much too loud to the hobbit's taste.

"Shhh - there are guards nearby!", warned the small being, while opening the rest of the cell doors. Quickly moving, Thorin took the Company towards the stairs that would bring them to the upper halls.

"Up the stairs! Go!", ordered Oakenshield, but Bilbo shook his head.

"Not that way - down here. Follow me!", urged the red head, already going down the stairs. They did, all under the sound of the party upstairs, "This way", they passed by Elros and Galion, asleep with flagons gripped in their hands. Fili and his brother looked around, but here had been no way out.

"I don't believe it - we're in the cellars", said Kili, frustrated.

"You were supposed to be leading us out -not further in!", accused Bofur, but Bilbo paid him no mind.

"I know what I'm doing", whispered the hobbit. Gesturing towards the empty barrels that were stacked, he urged them, "Everyone, climb into the barrels - quickly", ordered their burglar. Looking around, all Balin could see were the empty barrels.

"Are you mad? They'll find us-", glared Dwalin.

"No, they won't", Bilbo shook his head, "I promise. Please, you must trust me", as soon as he finished speaking, voices were heard. Quickly approaching, too.

"Do as he says", ordered their leader, after looking at him.

They obeyed, muttering under their breath. After making sure they were all tucked inside, even Bombur had managed to squeeze into a large barrel, despite the metal rings complaining and being under great strain, Bilbo hurried over to a wooden lever that was in the cellar wall. Bofur looked outside, after sometime waiting.

"What do we do now?", asked the dwarf.

"Hold your breath", Bilbo pulled on the lever with all his strength. The other frowned.

"Hold my breath? What do you mean?", they all yelled as the entire floor beneath them rose and tilted, revealing the rushing water of an underground stream, "Waiaiaiaiaiaiaiai!!!!!"

Bilbo, who was very satisfied that his plan had worked, looked at the trapdoor, now shut. Shut... With Bilbo still inside the cellar. Desperately stamping and jumping up and down he urges the door to open, to no vail.

"Where is the keeper of the keys!?", yelled who he recognizes to be Tauriel. Guards had noticed the dwarves were missing.

The Company had been tumbling around in the water channel that slowly flowed in a narrow canal. Some of them peeked outside after lifting the barrel lids and inspected their surroundings. They were in an underground cavern, beneath the fortress. Still inside it, Bilbo looked up, with panic in his gaze.

He'd be found, he'd be found and - just as the captain of the guard appeared, racing down the stairs, the hobbit escaped through the trap door and into the water. Holding a barrel that he saw was Nori's, small Bilbo coughed and spluttered as water enters his mouth. Thorin, seeing their saviour, tries to haul him up into a safer position.

"Well done Master Baggins!", at the praise, Bilbo wished he could smile, but as the barrels begin thudding together, he stiffened.

Dori and Oin scream in fear as a small waterfall is seen. Tauriel, along with more elven warriors, was racing down stairways and tunnels, trying to reach them as fast as possible. The barrels emerged out of a tunnel, tumbling over a waterfall. Thorin, who had no choice but to held on like the rest of the Company, yelled the command.

"Hold on!!", warned their King, as the barrels floated towards a narrow channel, leading to a fast flowing waterway that headed of to their destiny.

An iron portcullis was all that had been separating them from freedom now, and they were quickly going towards it. Suddenly, the Prince of the Woodland Realm arrived at a ledge, overlooking the river, with another elf by his side.

"Holo in-annon!*", ordered Legolas, and the elf blew a long note on a trumpet. Elven sentinels quickly close the gate just as Thorin's barrel was about to slip through it. The rest of the Company crashed into his barrel and against each other. They were locked once more.

_________________________________

Quickly going inside her room, Mäetharanel undid the buttons so she could get out of the dress she had been wearing. As she moved around the room to find more comfortable clothing, she caught her reflection in the mirror and saw it. Her stomach, larger than it had ever been, pale and stretched. Her child was protected there.

Shaking her head, she got dressed, put on a cape that would hide all of her figure, buttoned it, grabbed her weapons and ran out the door. The guard calling out for her was ignored. She had to get out of the palace, as soon as possible. The Company was gone.

_________________________________

An elvish guard falls dead. A large force of orcs appeared over the riverbank, with Bolg leading it.

"Goridug!*", ordered the tall orc, and they began attacking the barrels.

Struggling, the Company used the lids to stop the arrows, but orcs leapt into them, and the fight for their lifes began. Kili, who had been looking around, moved quickly out of the barrel and towards the lever that would certainly open the gate that kept them there.

Fighting off the orcs that tried to stop him, he managed to get there. What he had not expected, was that he was not the only one looking around. Bolg, who noticed Kili walking around, nodded at one of his archers that shoot an arrow.

Mäetharanel arrived just in time to see it go into Kili's leg. Kili stiffened and stood still. His aunt loaded her bow in fury as she saw Narzug, the one who had shot the arrow, snarling triumphantly as an hunter orc moved to further endanger her dear boy, but as she had been about to shoot it so the other would not harm Kili further, an elven arrow killed the orc.

Looking towards the direction of it, she saw Tauriel, looking at Kili with what she recognized was worry, before loading another arrow and aiming it at Narzug. Bolg appeared and gave another order.

"Gor 'ash! Gor golginul!*", a Clarion call was sounded, and the taller nuisance turned to see Legolas leading a group of elven warrior, swords drawn and charging against his troops.

While Tauriel began cutting at orcs with curved elven knives, and Legolas fought with amazing skill, Mäetharanel, looking as Kili reached for the lever once again, released her arrow. It flew just past Bolg's head, into Narzug who yelled.

Looking over, his eyes met with deep blue ones, that were glaring. The Company stared wide-eyed as Mäetharanel grabbed another arrow. She pushed the other arrow back, and with unblinking eyes, pointed it at Thorin.

"I warned you", and she released it so it went straight into an orc's forehead. It fell down to the water, just in front of him, and she jumped down from the tree branch she had been standing in, "You should not have left me behind."

Kili was already paling and when she made to go towards him, but he managed to push the lever, and to leap into his barrel. Leaning back towards it, he breathed fast.

Mäetharanel cursed loudly and, while killing more orcs, now with a long sowrd, she growled and turned towards Bolg.

"Abgurid! Gur!*", stiffening, Mäetharanel began running after the orcs and the dwarves. Her eyes met with Legolas, fighting them off with Tauriel. They were lethal and she smiled, proud.

The dwarves had been fighting as well. Inside their barrels, they kept on being pursued and orcs were throwing themselves at the Company. Bilbo clinged on as a high waterfall that lead towards the river came into view. Stopping, she turned to stare back at her nephew. She would not abandon him, not again.

Legolas, who looked at them going at high speed had been about to be attacked by a wounded Narzug, when suddenly, Tauriel easily overcame him. Pulling a knife to his throat, she had been about to kill him, but Legolas held his hand up and she stopped.

"Dartho, Tauriel. Avo hono -- hen hebim cuin*", surprised, she looked at the prince before her eyes followed after the orc pack that still went after the dwarves.

"Legolas", Mäetharanel fell from a tree, and the orc growled, "I will not leave you without a word, not this time", she walked ahead, her eyes never left the kneeling beast, "I just hope you understand me", her nephew looked at her, upset.

"You know what I think, but I cannot keep you here against your will, no one can", looking back to the fortress that was the palace of the Woodland Realm, she smiled, "Ada will see this as a disrespect."

"I know", she nodded, walked forward, kicked the orcs face and went down to one knee in front of him, "I don't know what will be of you, even if I have an idea", her eyes held nothing but disgust, "But if you ever do return, warn your leader", her hand grabbed the orcs jaw, "You don't touch my nephews", her face neared his, and the orc stiffened, "You don't touch anyone that is mine", and she pushed his face away, into Tauriel's knees. When she tood up, the woman looked at her with respect.

"Do be careful", Legolas caressed her cheek and her heart clenched, "You know how everything is, now", she looked towards the forest while holding his hand to her face, "Do not make us mourn you", and he nodded towards Tauriel, who grabbed the orc and began her way to the palace.

Closing her eyes, Mäetharanel asked for Thranduil's forgiveness and ran along the river's path.

"Khozdai-go! Sha mogi obguryash!*", she heard Bolg's voice and hurried.

_________________________

In the High Fells, Mithrandir climbed a steep, rocky mountainside. Passing by a creepy pagan statue, he understood the warning, but still it did not stop him. Ahead, there was a tall cliff, with narrow steps that would take him into a single, dark door. Climbing them, he stopped in the doorway, catching his breath and looking at the remains of an iron door, that hanged twisted from the entrance. Frowning, he entered.

The wizard looked up from the bottom of a long tunnel, carved in the rocks. Beginning his descend, his feet skidded on the floor and he skated down, fast. Sliding down the tunnel, Gandalf had nearly plummeted over the edge of a deep shaft, but he managed to balance.

After summoning a cool light from his staff, the wizard carefully walked forward, through the narrow steps inside the shaft. There he found a broken tomb door, and inside there was a stone sarcophagus. A sound coming from the depths of the tomb made him stand alert, and holding his staff defensively, Gandalf approached the high stone box, leaned forward and faced the darkness there.

Suddenly, a sparrow flew out of the coffin. It raced past the Grey, who followed to see where it went, but the wizard stiffened. There was a figure standing there, behind him. Slowly lifting his staff, his breath catched when he stepped forward, until-

"Oh, it's you!", Radgast the Brown faced his friend, frightned.

"Why am I here, Gandalf?", the sparrow appeared when the Brown lifted his hat, and settled in the nest in his hair.

"Trust me Radagast, I would not have called you here without good reason", said Gandalf, while looking around.

"This is not a nice place to meet", answered the other.

"No ... it is not", the Grey sent light around the tomb, looking for something the other did not understand. Strange marks appeared, carved in the tomb walls and Radagast recoiled in dread.

"These are dark spells, Gandalf ... old and full of hate. Who's buried here?", the taller wiard turned from the tomb's entrance.

"If he had a name it has long since been lost ... he was known only as a servant of evil - one of a number", looking down into the darkness of the shaft, he raised his staff and eight more black holes appeared below, with equally stone doors, smashed open, "One of nine", whispered Gandalf, in dread. Leading Radagast out, Mithrandir walked fast.

"Why now Gandalf? I don't understand", the Brown walked fast by his side, almost running.

"The Ringwraiths have been summoned to Dol Guldur", announced the Grey

"But it cannot be the Necromancer - a human sorcerer could not summon such evil", wondered Radagast.

"Who said he was human?" he appeared alarmed at the thought, "The Nine only answer to one Master. We've been blind, Radagast - and in our blindness, our Enemy has returned. He is summoning his servants...", spinning around, he confronted Radagast, "Azog the Defiler - he is no ordinary hunter, he is a commander of legions ... The Enemy is preparing for war. It will begin in the East...", and he suddenly realised the mistake he had made, "His mind is set on that Mountain", he had been about to hurry away, to the dwarves and to his friend, to hurry them away, when Radagast spoke.

"Where are you going?", he had stood still.

"To rejoin the others -"

"Gandalf -"

"I started this, I cannot forsake them now. They are in grave danger", the clutches of regret took hold of him.

"If what you say is true ... the world is in grave danger. Every day the power in that fortress will grow stronger", Mithrandir stopped, and turned to look back at the smaller wizard.

"You want me to cast my friends aside?", whispered the Grey.

_________________________________

*Close the gate!

*Slay them all!

*Kill her! Kill the She-elf!

*After them! Go!

*Tauriel - wait. This one we keep alive.

*After them! Cut them off!

Chapter Text

The wizard was not the only one in a difficult situation. The dwarves had managed to lose the orcs, but the flow of the river had also been lost.

"Anything behind us?", calls out Thorin, looking back at his Company.

"Not that I can see", answered Balin.

"I think we've out run the Orcs!", Bofur looked behind them and nodded.

"Not for long - we've lost the current!", their leader looked at the water as if it had betrayed them.

"And Bombur's half drowned", noted Dwalin, who had been scouting the line, his arms serving as paddles, much like the rest of them.

"Make for the shore!" ordered Thorin, pratically reaching it.

Exhausted and drenched, the dwarves and Bilbo struggled to reach the shore inside the barrels. They paddled with their hands or steered them with broken branches, but not Kili.

He was already sitting on the shoreline, blood seeping through the fingers that covered the arrow wound, done by the orcs. Bofur offered him a rag, and stared, worried.

"I'm fine - it's nothing", his voice was raspier than usual, and when Kili looked down, it seemed like he was a child that had just been called out for something he had done.

"On your feet!", Bofur and Fili, that had been looking at Kili regarded Thorin.

"Kili's wounded, his leg needs binding", said Fili, looking directly at his uncle.

"There's an Orc pack on our tail, we keep moving", Thorin would not risk them, not even for his nephew.

"To where?", Bilbo walked towards them.

"To the Mountain - we're so close", answered the hobbit.

"A lake lies between us and that Mountain and we've no way to cross it", answered Balin, shaking his head.

"So... then we go round", Dwalin wanted to snort, how oblivious of the hobbit.

"The Orcs will run us down sure as daylight", said the gruff warrior, "We've no weapons to defend ourselves", Thorin looked at his kin, and came to a conclusion.

"Bind his leg - quickly", Fili nodded towards his uncle and quickly tended to his brother, "You have two minutes", he looked at Balin, worried.

Ori began emptying his boots by the shore, and shook them to get as much water as possible out of them. Freezing, the dwarf slowly looked up, and found a tall, dark haired man standing in the clearing, bow in hand, already ready to shoot an arrow.

Dwalin slowly reached for a large tree trunk and raised it above his shoulder, ready to throw, but the man sent the arrow flying, and it turned into two. Kili made to grab a rock, instinctively, but another arrow flew, and sent the rock scudding along the ground. Dwalin looked at the man, and saw another arrow already ready.

"Do it again, and you're dead", threatened the bowman. No one moved.

"You are from Lake-town, unless I am mistaken?", Balin stepped forward, and the arrow pointed at him, "Excuse me - that barge yonder, it wouldn't be for available for hire by any chance?", suprised, the man lowers his bow. Thorin approached Balin, and together, they began the negotiation.

While Dwalin stood on the lookout for orcs, all the other dwarves and Bilbo huddled together. They watched the man roll the empty barrels onto the rocky shoreline, before being loaded on to the barge.

"What makes you think I would help you?", asked the tall one, after standing straight.

"Those boots have seen better days, as has your coat. And I'll wager you have some hungry mouths to feed", when his expression became somber, Balin knew he had him, "How many bairns?", asked the white haired dwarf, smiling with kindness.

"A boy and two girls."

"And your wife's a beauty, I'll wager?", he felt tempted to wink.

"Aye ... she was", Balin's face fell, and the man moved the ropes of the boat, sad.

"Ah - I'm sorry I didn't mean...", Dwalin approached his brother.

"Come on, come on - enough of the niceties", the younger spoke lowly to his brother, and while he brushed him off, the man caught them. 

"What's your hurry?", asked the man, while looking at them.

"What's it to you?", Dwalin was done with the situation. They had a mountain to reach.

"I would know who you are and what you are doing in these lands", he seemed taller, almost.

"We're simple merchants from the Blue Mountains - journeying to see our kin in the Iron Hills", Balin tried to soften the conversation.

"Simple merchants, you say?", he eyed Thorin, up and down, with a raised eyebrow.

"We need food, supplies - weapons. Can you help us?", he was king, and he was desperate to reach his kingdom.

"I know where these barrels came from", he touched the surface of one.

"What of it?", glared Oakenshield.

"I don't know what business you had with the Elves but I do not think it ended well", the human seemed suspicious, "No-one enters Lake-town but by leave of the Master. His wealth comes from trade with the Woodland Realm. He will see you in irons before risking the wrath of King Thranduil", 

"I'll wager there are ways to enter that town unseen", Balin smiled, but his brother looked at him with urgency.

"Aye, but for that you would need a smuggler", they had him, they had to.

"For which we would pay double", the white haired dwarf answered quickly, and the human stared, weighing his decision.

Much too close for comfort, Bolg and his pack of orcs advanced fast to where they were.

"Sha mogi obguryash!*", ordered Azog's spawn.

"Such is the nature of Evil", began the Elvenking, his face half shadowed in the flickering torchlight, "Out there in the vast ignorance of the world it festers and spreads... A shadow that grows in the dark. A sleepless malice as black as the oncoming wall of night. So it ever was; so will it always be - in time all foul things come forth", he ended while looking down at the orc, slumped in front of him, Tauriel and his son.

Narzug, the orc, had his head held by Legolas, who also had a dagger to his throat. Tauriel stood nearby, ready to attack if needed. Their captive eyed the she-elf with hatred, tracking her every step.

"You were tracking a company of thirteen Dwarves - why?", asked the prince of the woodland realm.

"Not thirteen, not anymore", the orc grinned, showing rotten teeth, "The young one, the black-haired archer...", Tauriel's eyes flickered, something almost unseen, as he mentioned Kili, "Stuck him with a Morgul shaft. The poison's in his blood, he'll be choking it on it soon", the orc lifted his head and laughed.

"Answer the question - filth", spoke the red haired elf, in between her teeth.

"Shâ hakhtiz khunai-go, Golgi!*", he spat at Tauriel, who suddenly held a dagger in her hand.

"I would not antagonize her", warned Legolas. 

"You like killing things, Orc? You like death? Then let me give it to you", she lunged at Narzug, but Thranduil stopped her.

"Farn! Tauriel - ego, gwau hi", ordered the king, glaring. The woman reluctantly withdrew, "I do not care about one dead dwarf. Answer the question. You have nothing to fear", Thranduil spoke well, much too well, "Tell us what you know and I will set you free", promised the monarch.

"You had orders to kill them. Why?", asked Legolas, sharply staring at his father, "What is Thorin Oakenshield to you?", Narzug looked from one blonde to the other, and laughed.

"The dwarf runt will never be King", said the orc, scornful.

"King? There is no King Under the Mountain - nor will there ever be. None would dare enter Erebor whilst the dragon lives", none, but his son's foolish aunt, driven by love, thought the King.

"You know nothing, your world will burn", it seemed he mocked them.

"What are you talking about - speak!", the orc laughed, filled with glee because of Legolas' surprised voice.

"Our time has come again. My Master serves the One", Thranduil's eyes widened in shock, "Do you understand now Elfling... death is upon you ... the flames of war are upon you", only the King understood what the orc meant. His son had not lived enough to know the terrors their captive spoke of.

Drawing his sword, he swung it at the orc's head, almost disinterested. Legolas stepped back, and found himself holding Narzug's severed head, that swong from side to side in his hand. Dropping it to the floor, he looked towards his father, glaring.

"Why did you do that? You promised to set him free", the prince approached his father that looked at him.

"And I did", answered the taller blonde while he shook the blood off his sword, "I freed his wretched head from his miserable shoulders."

"There was more the Orc could tell us-"

"There was nothing more he could tell me", the father turned around and began to leave the throne room.

"What did the Orc mean - the Flames of War?", Legolas followed after him, curious.

"It means they intend to unleash a weapon so great it will destroy all before it", Thranduil's mind was running, and his Louth accompanied it, "I want the watch on our borders doubled", he ordered the guard who nodded, "All roads, all rivers... nothing moves but I hear of it. No one enters this Kingdom, and no one leaves it", bowing down, the guard left to inform the others of their orders.

Turning to his son, who understood he also had a part to take as captain, his eyes followed after him as he left through the tall doors of the room.

Legolas had walked outside, into the long corridor that had the great gate of the Woodland Realm at the end and stopped to address the guards there. 

"Holo in-ennyn, tiro i devnin hain - na ganed en-Aran*", ordered the prince, visibly troubled.

"Man os Tauriel?*", asked Elros, and the prince that had already turned his back and had resumed his path, stopped and inhaled.

"Man o sen?*", asked the blonde, while praying for patience.

"Edevin eb enedhor na gû a megil*", for the love of- Tauriel had defied his father.

"En ú-nandollen*", spoke the guard while following him outside. 

Legolas glared towards the river and the forest. He had to go get her.

Inside his rooms, Thranduil paced around, slowly. Stopping, he stood straight and called for a guard.

"Queen Mäetharanel?", asked the King while looking at the brown haired man.

"Should be arriving at Laketown, my King", nodding, Thranduil looked towards the gates.

"She should be watched closely", she was reckless, despite the babe. He would not allow such a loss, "Doriath needs its Queen", and his son loved and needed his aunt.

"Yes, my Lord", he bowed and left Thranduil alone with his thoughts.

__

*Do not let them escape!

*I do not answer to dogs, She-Elf!

*Enough! Tauriel - leave, go now.

*Close the gate, keep it sealed - by order of the King.

*What about Tauriel?

*What about her?

*She went into the forest, armed with bow and blade.

*She has not returned.

Chapter Text

In the banks of the forest river, a dark, deformed figure creeped swiftly along it. His snout pressed to the ground, searching and searching, suddenly stopped and he looked up. He had picked up the scent of the dwarf scum! His master, Fimbul, lead an orc pack to where the dwarves had come ashore. A dark stain got his attention, and he leaned down so he could wipe his finger across the stain, to lick it.

"*Tum nash... Agra-yi", Bolg stood still while he sniffed the air.

"*Nuzdi-arg nash... hum ân bûnish", the bowman that had taken them was also sensed, "*Keranish ô kirzad", the tall orcs head swivelled towards something in the distance.

The early morning fog was heavy upon the stilll, dark waters. A barge softly broke a crust of thin ice, as it advanced across the lake with surprising speed. The dwarves, Bilbo and the man that accompanied him stood atop the barge. The Company sat huddled together in the front, admiring the pre-dawn light, pale and milky. The barrels they had used to flee the Woodland Realm were stacked in the deck.

"Watch out!", warned Bofur, and they all ducked. All but the exprienced bargeman.

The man calmly pulled the tiller, and navigated the dark waters as if he and the lake were one. Years of maneuvering through those waters gave him confidence and a sense of peace. The dwarves stared as they passed under an ancient stone archway that raised out of the water.

"What are you trying to do? Drown us?", accused the King Under the Mountain.

"I was born and bred on these waters, Master Dwarf", informed the tall one, "If I wanted to drown you, I would not do it here", calmly speaking, the man looked at the waters.

"I've had enough of this lippy lakeman", Dwalin had turned to his fellow dwarves and spoke lowly, "I say we drop him over the side and be done wi' it", Bilbo sighed.

"Bard", the others turned to look at him, not understanding what he meant, "His name is Bard", he seemed to glare at them.

"How do you know?", asked Bofur.

"I asked him", as obvious as it was, the hobbit still answered them.

"I don't care what he calls himself, I don't like him", said Dwalin, after spitting to one side. His eyes never left the tall frame, assessing, waiting for an opportunity to take the barge.

"We do not have to like him. We simply have to pay him...", Balin counted the coins in his hand, "Come on now lads, turn out your pockets."

"How do we know he won't betray us?", his years as a captain were not left behind in Ered Luin.

"We don't", answered his King. Dwalin's older brother cleared his throat loudly.

"There's a wee problem ... we're ten coins short", informed the white haired dwarf after nudging Thorin. Muttering, everyone began looking for more coin.

"Gloin - come on...", the red head looked afronted, "Give us what you have", Thorin looked at him knowingly.

"Don't look to me! I've been bled dry by this venture...", announced the brother of Oin, "And what have I seen for my investment? Eh? Nought but misery and grief!", but he got no answer, from any of them.

They stared silently towards northwest, and he did the same. In the distance, there it stood, with their memories, with their whole lives still left behind. With the burning trees, the screams and the battle. The Lonely Mountain was a solitary peak among the fog, their home was so near... The first light of dawn appeared and it seemed as if the Valar themselves were announcing it; they had to get there.

"Take it...", his throat had closed up, and Gloin spoke choked up, "Take all of it!", a small leather purse, filled with coins, was put in Thorin's hands.

They still stared at their home, silent and in grief. Bilbo, who did not have such a connection, still paid attention to his surroundings and saw Bard staring intently at them. Turning to them, the small hobbit tried to get their attention, but the bargeman moving closer to them did it.

"The money, quick - give it to me", he extended his hand to Thorin, who frowned.

"We'll pay you when we get our provisions and not before", the king glared.

"If you value your freedom, you will do as I say. There are guards ahead", hissed the man.

They had neared the Laketown. A loud shout allerted the dwarves and Bilbo that looked in it's direction. The town was wooden and loomed out of the now thinning fog, revealing the shapes of buildings and torchlights. The barge of Bard was still several hundred yards away from it, but they approached with good speed. The long wood bridge was the only connection with the shoreline, that had fisherman pulling nets from small boats. Sliding besides them, the barge stopped.

Their smuggler spoke and bartered with some of the fisherman in a low voice. The dwarves, inside the barrels again, did not know what was happening. Little Bilbo peered out of a hole in his barrel, watching Bard closely.

"What's he doing?", growled out Dwalin, squeezed inside his own barrel.

"He's talking to someone...", answered the hobbit, "He's pointing right at us! Now they're shaking hands", reported the red head.

"What?!", came Thorin's voice, alarmed.

"He's selling us out!", the half bald dwarf began squirming, about to leave his barrel.

But something stopped him. If it was the shadow that appeared on top of him or the fish that was poured into his head, he did not know. One by one, the barrels were filled with fresh fish. Thorin tried not to move much, but allowed his eyes to look up and sighed, relieved. Another entered his mind, he remembered how-

"Mäeth would be so angry if she was here with us", came Kili's muffled voice, and his uncle let out a sigh. Yes, she would.

Bard had returned to steering his barge towards a canal that woudl take them to the heart of his town. Grumbling, the dwarves sounded much too at ease for him, but a swift kick to the nearest barrel made them quiet down.

"Quiet - we're approaching the toll-gate", informed the dark haired man while looking ahead. The heavy iron gate blocked the entrance, and a voice called out from the side.

"Halt! Good's inspection, pull alongside!", it was a nice enough voice, Bilbo thought, "Papers, please! Oh, it's you, Bard", the man woudl be around middle age, and he seemed to know Bard.

"Morning, Percy", greeted the bargeman. the toll collector stepped out and nodded. Bard gave him the papers he requested and watched as he scanned them.

"Anything to declare?", asked the older man.

"Nothing. But that I'm cold and tired and ready for home", Bard arranged himself while standing, waiting for his papers.

"You and me both", chuckled the man as he stamped the papers, "There we are... all in order", he smiled and handed back the waybill, until-

"Not so fast!", someone took the paper from Percy, someone Bard wasn't very pleased about. Alfrid, the private secretary of the Master of Laketown, stood close, holding the paper in the air. Several guards flanked him, and even their captain, Braga, was present, "Consignment of empty barrels from the Woodland Realm...", the little man's eyes flickered towards the barrels, filled with fish, "Only... they're not empty, are they Bard?", an ugly grin appeared in his face.

Approaching the barge, he lifted a fish from one of the barrels, revealing Bombur's wide eyes. Turning back to Bard, the other man pretended to think.

"If I recall correctly, you're licensed as a bargeman, not a fisherman", he announced loudly.

"That's none of your business", glared Bard.

"Wrong", declared the secretary, "It's the Master's business, which makes it my business", smiling, he nodded towards the guards that began approaching, and scattered around the barge so they could begin putting the fish back to the lake.

"Come on, Alfrid - have a heart. People need to eat", Bard would not beg, but he tried to make sense of the situation. If not, the dwarves would be in toruble, and so would he.

"These fish are illegal!", he tossed the fish in hand away, and turned to look at the guards, "Empty these barrels over the side", the captain nodded.

"You heard him, in the canal!", ordered Braga, and Bard stood straight, impassive as he watched them beggining to push the heavy barrels towards the side of his barge.

"Folk in this town are struggling. Times are hard, food is scarce-", he tried to reason, still. Bilbo, whose barrel was being manhandled panicked.

"That's not my problem", his hands behind his back, Alfrid watched them.

"And when the people hear the Master is dumping fish back in the lake; when the rioting starts", he watched as the other stiffened, "Will it be your problem then?", his blue eyes turned from the scene to the shorter man.

"Stop!", just as they were about to push the barrels to the water, he raised his hand and they stopped. Gesturing towards Braga, who gave the order for the guards to back away, he leaned closer to the bargeman, "Ever the people's champion, eh, Bard? "Protector of the common folk". You may have their favour now, Bargeman, but it won't last", hissed the pale, small little devil, "The Master has his eye on you. You would do well to remember - we know where you live", Bard began arranging to depart, his eyes flickering in brief anger.

"It's a small town, Alfrid", declared the man, "everyone knows where everyone lives", and as the iron gate opened, he steered his barge down the narrow canals.

Away from them, hidden in the shadow, a figure rubbed their mid section. Approaching the light, it revealed to be Mäetharanel, easily concealed with her heavy, dark cape. Her hand that caressed her stomach stopped and she resumed her pursuit of the Company. The water seemed calm around her, finally acknowledging it's new Queen. Smiling down at it, she bent down and let her hand fall into the lake.

"*Elarian... ora-se, iquista?", she knew the water would not disappoint her. Standing up, she looked to where the barge had gone and resumed the caresses. Her child was restless.

Inside the master's home, Alfrid attended to his lord. Getting up in a huff, the blonde, red faced and wide man walked around his four-post bed. His home was the opposite to what happened outside, it was much too rich for the slowly decaying wooden buildings.

"All this talk of civil unrest...", Alfrid tossed the contents of a chamber pot outside and put it down, "Someone's been stirring the pot, Sire", it would be funny, if it was said by another, "Gout playing up, Sire?"

"It's the damp - it's the only possible explanation. Get me a brandy", answered the master, and the servant went to fetch it.

"The mood of the people - it's turning ugly", said Alfrid, while pouring a large tumbler of Brandy.

"They're commoners, Alfrid... they've always been ugly", answered the man, while sitting down, his florish night clothes lookign almost comical, "It's not my fault they live in a place that stinks of fish oil and tar. Jobs, food, shelter; it's all they ever bleat about", complained the master.

"It's my belief, Sire, they're being led on by troublemakers", the blonde looks at him, Alfrid has his full attention now.

"Then we must find these troublemakers and arrest them!", urged the master while entering dark vaulted hall, lined with ledgers. An ornate desk sat at one end. The hall's pillars, floor and walls werebadly warped with damp.

"My thoughts exactly, Sire", nodded the smaller man.

"All this talk of 'change' must be suppressed. The next thing you know they'll be asking questions, forming committees, launching inquiries", it all seemed very frightnening for him.

"Out with the old... in with the new?", answered the servant, in between gritted teeth.

"What?", asked the master, almost in a panick.

"That's what they're saying, Sire... there's even talk of an election", Alfrid was sly as he spoke it.

"An election!", the outrage was enormous, as the master turned, shocked by such a suggestion, "That's absurd! I won't stand for it!"

"I don't think they'd ask you to stand, Sire", provoking his lord, Alfrid walked behind him.

"Shirkers, ingrates, rouble rousers...", said the master in between teeth, as he stepped onto a balcony that allowed him to face all of Laketown, "Who would have the nerve to question my authority? Who would dare-", but he knew who would. His face hardened, "Bard! You mark my words, that trouble making bargeman is behind this!"

Speaking of the bargeman, he was looking around. The alleys of the industrial part of Laketown were empty, thankfully. Only a dock worker secured the mooring. Tipping the barrels over with his foot, dwarves and fish spill into the deck. The worker seemed amazed, while the others took fish from their clothing.

"You didn't see them. They were never here", said Bard as he pressed a silver coin into the man's hand, "The fish you can have for nothing", he began leading the Company away from the wharf, "Follow me", and they did. As they walked through town, hidden as best as they could, a woman stared in wonderment.

"Dad!", a young boy appeared. Bard's son, Bain, hurried towards him, "Our house - it's being watched", the father thought fast.

When they arrived at their two story house, Bard quickly took notice of a one-eyed beggar hunched in a alcove, that tapped his cane on a wall. Two small boys ran down an alley, and rung a bell as they pass. Then, a strange man in a near alley lighted his pipe. Hurrying to their door, father and son casted glances over their shoulder. Two men sat in a small boat in the canal in front of their home. Bard glanced down at them before chucking them an apple and whistling.

"Tell the Master - I'm done for the day", and they walked inside. Quickly closing and bolting the door, the father turned to look at his daughters.

"Da! Where have you been?", little Tilda, only 8 years old, was happy to see her only living parent.

"Father! There you are - I was worried", Sigrid, a bit older than the little one, was relieved. Bard hugged them, picked Tilda up and glanced out of the window, before turning to his son.

"Get them in", and Bain walked towards their basement.

Pushing the toilet door, the young man hit the side and Dwalin's head popped up through the hole, durectly perched over the water of Laketown. The half bald dwarf glared up at him, a threat evident in his gaze.

"If you speak of this to anyone I'll rip your arms off", and there it was, spoken too. After Bain helped the wet dwarves and a shocked Bilbo out of the long-drop, he signaled them to go upstairs.

"Up there", pointed the boy, and Sigrid and Tilda watched from the middle of the stairs.

"Da - why are there dwarves climbing out of our toilet?", Sigrid frowned as they passed by her.

"Will they bring us luck?", grinned little Tilda. The sisters waited for all of them to get inside, but the sound of someone walking on top of the planks made them look back.

Gasping, Sigrid quickly held Tilda to her. A tall figure in a cape neared them, with light, certain steps and a hidden face. Soft looking hands appeared from the sleeves and when the hood fell, they stared at the woman. Tilda gaped at her, and her big sister could not believe it. An elf! She was an elf!

"Hello, girls", Mäetharanel smiled up at them, but they couldn't answer, "I believe your father is hosting my friends in your home?"

"Sigrid, Tilda, what's-", young Bain stopped coming down the stairs and his mouth opened. The elf looked up at him and smiled.

"If I may, I really would like to get inside, to meet you father and see my friends", the boy nodded, still in shock. Mäetharanel extended her arm, signaling them to lead the way and the girls quickly went up the stairs.

"Da! Da!", little Tilda quickly went to Bard, who looked down at her, "You will not believe it!"

"What is it, dearest?", but he did not need an answer.

Mäetharanel slowly walked up the stairs. Behind her, Bard's son appeared, and walked to him, pale and slow. Looking the woman up and down, the man frowned when their eyes met. She was an elf, her pointed, pierced ears exposed her, clearly. The dwarves had appeared near him in barrels that certainly had come from the Elvenking's realm, so from where else could she be? Her figure was hidden beneath a cape that looked large on her, but Bard could not help and looked into her eyes once again. Those were not concealed, and for good reason.

"Whatever it is they have done, I-", she held her hand up.

"They did nothing wrong", she sighed and ran an hand through her hair, "Now, will you take me to them? I did run a bit", the man seemed aprehensive, but he finally lead her through the house, into the place where they were.

Standing in silence, away from their eyes, Mäetharanel watched them, and Bard watched her. Sigrid was passing them cups of warm tea, while little Tilda gave them blankets and clothes. Their host observed as she looked at them one by one, and saw the emotions passing her eyes: grief, relief and finally, slight anger. He wondered why. It was not everyday that an elf would approach dwarves like that and would not attack them immediatly. He dared think it was unheard of.

"Thank you, master?", her voice interrupted his thiughts, and he cleared his throat.

"Bard, my lady", he nodded and she smiled.

"The man that helped my family can only call me Mäetharanel, please", looking back at them, she sighed, "I understand how difficult thet can be", he smiled at her.

"Truly?", the woman chuckled and he walked inside, closer to them, and began tending to other things.

"They may not be the best fit, but they'll keep you warm", their host spoke, but no one answered him.

Thorin stared out the open window, and Bilbo, ever the curious creature followed his gaze. Their elf, still hidden, knew what her love was staring at. In the distance, atop a watchtower, stood a large, mounted crossbow. A crossbow that should have not failed it's mission to assassinate the dragon Smaug.

"A Dwarvish windlance", spoke Thorin, almost in a whisper.

"You look like you've seen a ghost", the hobbit meant to lighten the mood, but it was not possible in such a situation.

"He has", said Balin, also speaking softly, "The last time we saw such a weapon... a city was on fire", he began remembering, once more, of the day the dragon destroyed everything, "It was the day the dragon came; the day Smaug destroyed Dale."

He could see it in front of him, Blain could even smell the smoke. Fire rainned down upon Dale, people ran and screamed in the streets.

"Girion, the Lord of the City, rallied his bowman to fire upon the beast", Bilbo had sat as he listened with all his attention, "But dragon's hide are tough - tougher than the Strongest armour. Only a black arrow fired from a windlance could have pierced the dragon's hide... and few of those arrows were ever made."

Girion, the Lord of Dale at the time, had those arrows. He fired some when he stood atop the highest tower in Laketown, while desperately aiming the large cross bow at the dragon.

"Their store was running low when Girion made his last stand. Alas, to no avail", the older dwarf stared out the window once more and sighed, sad.

"Had the aim of Men been true that day, much would have been different", Thorin's eyes had not left the weapon.

"You speak as if you were there?", Bard spoke, suspiscious. The King turned to look at him.

"All Dwarves know the tale."

"Then you would know that Girion hit the dragon", young Bian had approached them, too, "He loosened a scale under the left wing. One more shot and he would have killed the beast."

"That's a fairy story, lad, nothing more", Dwalin shook his head.

"You took our money - where are the weapons?", Oakenshield was the name given to him when he defended himself with what he had at hand - but not now, they had paid for something better.

"Wait here", and the man walked outside. Finally, the elf walked closer to the doorway, and spoke.

"You should not be so hard on him", gasps echoed in the living room, and they all turned to look at the elf, "He is not Girion, after all."

"Mäeth!", Bilbo smiled, relieved, and she smiled back at him, before walking to Kili, who stared at her as if she was not there.

"Kili, you stubborn idiot...", whispered the elf while putting stray hairs behind his ear, "You were not the only one who made a promise", then, she stood up to look at Fili, "Are you alright, Fili?"

"Yes, I", he gulped and nodded, "I am", looking all around, she took in their figures.

"I am glad you all made it safe to here", and she really did, "Now, let us-"

"Should you not have stayed back?", Dwalin's gruff voice made her glare in his way, but he held his arms up, "You can't give the excuse of them not being your kin", Bilbo appeared confused.

"Here, Bilbo, what Dwalin means is...", Bofur explained to him what they now knew, and the hobbit heard carefully. By the end of it, he looked at the elf, eyes wide and mouth open.

"You're a princess!?", sighing, Mäetharanel winced and looked around for a chair.

"Yes, I am", sitting in the sofa behind her, she made sure her cape was still hiding her pregnancy, "I apologise for keeping this from you, too."

"What-", he shook his head, "You're related to Thranduil!?", she let her head fall into her open palms and felt like crying.

"Yes, Bilbo, he is my brother by law", it was too much, both for the hobbit and Bard's children who also stared at her.

"You're a princess? A real princess?", Tilda looked at her in awe, and Mäetharanel smiled and waved to the girl, so she'd approach.

"That I am", chuckling, she showed the ring on her hand, "And do you see this?", the little girl nodded, her eyes fixed on the big, blue gem, "I am actually a Queen, now", gasping, the little girl looked at her and grinned.

"Really!?", Mäetharanel laughed loudly and caressed the girl's hair.

"Really, really", nodding, she let her hand stop in the girl's cheek, "I am to be a Queen of two kingdoms", looking back her One, she saw his shoulders relax slightly, "If my King will still have me", Thorin's eyes filled with saddness, but he shook his head.

"We have more pressing matters to attend to. Fili, Kili, Balin", they approached him and began speaking amongst them, "Tomorrow begins the last days of autumn."

"Durin's Day falls the morn after next", Balin's hand ran through the length of his beard, "We must reach the mountain before then."

"And if we do not? If we fail to find the hidden door before that time..?", asked a pale Kili.

"Then this quest has been for nothing", his brother looked at him, with saddness in his gaze.

Bard, who had gone downstairs to a small landing beneath his house where a row boat was docked, walked inside his home holding a large oil-skin wrapped bundle. Everyone stopped talking and waited until he dumped the bundle on the table.

Pulling away the oil-skin, the man revealed home-made weapons. Made from fishing equipment, tools and roughly hewn iron. The Company stared at the "weapons" in dismay. Thorin picked up what was supposed to be a short staff with a rusty hook bound with twine.

"What is this?", asked their leader, looking at the tall man.

"A pike-hook, made from an old harpoon", explained Bard, "It can tear the legs from under a foe, if handled right."

"And this?", Kili held another tool up.

"A crowbill we call it; fashioned from a smithy's hammer. Heavy in hand, I grant, but well balanced for all that", he understood they were not happy with what he had given. Mäetharanel frowned in Kili's way when he winced while putting the weapon down, and shifted his weight from his bad leg, "In defence of your life, these will serve you better than none."

"We paid you for weapons, iron-forged swords and axes...", Gloin glared up at the bargeman.

"It's a joke!", Bofur threw another makeshift weapon he had been analysing to the table.

"You won't find better outside the city armoury; all iron-forged weapons are held there under lock and key", Mäetharanel catched the looks exchanged between Dwalin and Thorin and let her hand fall on Dwalin's shoulder.

"Don't even think about it", hissed the elf in between teeth, "Dwalin, no", but he did not answer her, he just looked up at her before looking at Thorin.

"Thorin!", Balin, always the voice of reason, urged the king to look at him, "Why not take what's on offer and go. I've made do with less, Thorin, and so have you. I say we leave now."

"You're not going anywhere", everyone looked at the man sharply, and even Mäetharanel frowned in his way.

"What did you say?", growled Dwalin.

"There's spies watching this house", he looked at all of them, "And probably every dock and wharf in town. You must wait for nightfall", Kili sitting down in pain alarmed the elf that quickly sat in the floor by his side.

"Kili, my âzyungûn", tears brimmed her blue eyes as he held his leg, in obvious pain, "Let me see, please", but he shook his head.

"No, no...", her sad eyes became angry and she cursed lowly. They had taken her sister, and her father. They would not take her nephew.

In the balcony of his home, Bard wondered about the name of the dwarf leader.

"Thorin... Thorin...", muttered the man.

"Da?", Bain watched his father that stared at the Mountain with attention. But it was not the Mountain that interested him, it was the kingdom there - Erebor.

"Don't let them leave", ordered the father, while hurrying down the stairs.

*Dwarf blood... They were here.

*Keranish ô kirzad.

*There is another scent... man-flesh

*They have found a way to cross the lake.

*Elarian... warn him, please?

Chapter Text

Tauriel ran over river boulders and came upon a sad sight. The remains of a dead deer littered the ground. The poor thing had been ripped apart and eaten raw. Pulling out the orc arrow that was in the flank of the deer, she stared sadly at the scene before departing once more.

Following the orc tracks, she climbed stealthily up a rock, until she arrived at the top of an hill, and overlooked the long lake. Smoke rose from chimneys in Laketown, the place where she had followed Queen Mäetharanel to. A sudden sound beind her made her freeze. Spinning around she pointed her bow, ready to fire, only to stare at Legolas' own bow, aimed right at her.

"Ingannen le Orch*", spoke the red head, still bent down.

"Ci orch im, dangen le*", answered the Prince, with a serious expression, "Tauriel, you cannot hunt thirty Orcs on your own", he put his bow down and frowned in her way.

"But I am not on my own", smiled the elleth.

"You knew I would come", said the blonde, while moving closer to her, "The King is angry, Tauriel. For six hundred years my father has protected you, favoured you", everyone knew how difficult it was for Thranduil to trust, much more to favor, "you defied his orders, you have betrayed his trust", and she knew this, "Dandolo na nin... le gohenatha*."

"Ú-ohenathon*", Tauriel looked at the cold waters of the long lake, "Ci dadwenithon, úohenathon im*", her quiet voice reached him quite well, and Legolas looked taken aback, "The King has never let Orc filth roam our lands, yet he would let this Orc-pack cross our borders and kill our prisoners."

"It is not our fight", no matter how much the prince understood what she felt, he would not acknowledge it, not to her.

"It is our fight. It will not end here", his friend faced him completely, and spoke while looking in his eyes, "With every victory this evil will grow. If your Father has his way, we will do nothing", images of his aunt telling him the same overcame his mind, "We will hide within our walls. We will live our lives away from the light and let the darkness descend", their eyes did not leave each other, "Are we not part of this world? Tell me, mellon ... when did we let Evil become stronger than us?", but the prince had no answer to give her.

Bard ran through the Laketown, stall after stall, until he reached the one he meant to go to. Looking around, he began pulling down blankets and woven rugs, searching for something. The stallkeeper looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"'Allo Bard. What you after?", he did not look up to meet her eyes.

"There was a tapestry - an old one", he kept on looking around and touching things, "Where's it gone?"

"What tapestry you talkin' about?", she had so many, but apparently he had forgotten about it.

That's when Bard found it. Hanging on the back wall, a large, woven heraldic tapestry that showed the extense line of Durin, the Deathless. Soon, murmurs of excitement began bulding, and running throught he marketplace.

"They were Dwarves I tell you, appeared out of nowhere!", a lady that sold herbs, Hilda Bianca, spoke to a small group hiddled near them, "Full-beards and fierce eyes. I've never seen the like", said the woman with a misterious tone of voice.

"What would Dwarves be doing in these parts?", a man, Netmender spoke surprised.

"It's the Prophecy...", a fisherman, old enough to have heard it times and times over, spoke.

"Prophecy?", asked the other man, and all turned to look at the older man.

"The Prophecy of Durin's Folk", he clarified, seated on a bot mending nets.

Bard traced the lines until his fingers found a line that began with a name: Thror. Going down, he traced Thrain, until he finally arrived at the last name on the tapestry, Thorin. The dwarves in his home, the ones that had upset King Thranduil and had a elven lady following...

"The prophecy... the prophecy...", whispered the boatman while looking at the dwarf's name.

"The old tales will come true", a man spoke, excited.

"Vast halls of treasure!", exclaimed a woman.

"Can it really be true, has the Lord of Silver Fountains returned?", another man asked, unbelieving.

"The Lord of silver fountains", looking up in dawning realisation, Bard began recalling an ancient rhyme, "The King of carven stone. The King beneath the Mountain, Shall come into his own", then he ran once more.

Desperately running through the streets of Laketown, pushing his way through crowds of people, he ran and ran. He ran and recalled.

"And the bells shall ring in gladness, At the Mountains King's return", turning the corner, he neared his home, "But all shall fail in sadness And the lake shall shine and burn. The last rays of the setting sun ripple across the waters towards the Laketown like a shining, path wrought from gold", the strength he used to open the door startled Sigrid who looked up at him.

Bard slammed the door behind him, scanning the room quickly. Mäetharanel, who had fallen asleep, startled awake and reached for her hidden sword. There was no sign of the dwarves beyond half eaten plates of food and mugs of tea left lying on the table.

"Dad, I tried to stop them", his son appeared, with apologetic eyes and fast words.

"How long have they been gone!?", asked the father, panicked.

"Bain? Bard?", wincing, she arranged herself on the sofa and held the blanket Sigrid had put on top of her, "Oh, those giant fools!", Bain had tried to stop them, indeed...

When he saw them arranging the few things they had brought, he appeared clueless. His father had told him to not let them leave, but what could he do?

"Uhm, da said you should stay here", noted the boy, looking at them.

"And who's going to stop us, boy?", Dwalin crossed his large arms and looked at him.

"Certainly it ain't you", Gloin raised an eyebrow.

"C'mon lads, let's go", Bofur touched their shoulders and they followed after him and the rest. Only the one named Thorin, the blonde and the one that had almost no beard remained.

"She'll be upset, we should not leave without her", whispered Kili, sweating slightly while caressing the elf's soft hand.

"She is finally resting, Kee, look", Fili caressed her face with his knuckles and arranged the blanket the older daughter of Bard had put on top of her, "I think I never saw her sleeping like this..."

"Let's go boys, we must hurry", nodding, they stood up and while holding his brother's waist, Fili lead them both outside, "Amrâlimê...*", whispered Thorin, before kissing Mäetharanel's forehead gently, "We will be back for you, I promise", her nose scrunched up because of his beard and he smiled, "Men lananubukhs me, atamanel*", and his lips touched hers. His eyes met with young Bain's, that stared in shock, but a glare from the dwarf quickly put him in place, "Tell your father we are very grateful for his hospitality", then he left after the others.

"I know where they will be going", Mäetharanel managed to stand up and take a few steps, before her sleeping legs made her knees buckle and Bard leaned to grab her, around the waist, just beneath he chest, "Thank you", separating form him, she arranged her cape and made to leave.

"Miss Mäeth?", Sigrid spoke, and she stopped to look down at the little girl, "You're leaving?"

"I am, my dear", smiling at the little one being held by her big sister, saddness envolved her heart, "Protect each other, the three of you, always. Having siblings is one of the biggest blessings a being can have", and she ruffled Bain's hair before opening the door, but a hand closed it, "Yes?", she glared at Bard who regarded her with a frown.

"I believe it is in your best interest to remain at my home, my lady", he looked into her eyes as she crossed her arms, "Please, I will see to them."

"That is not necessary, we have already burdened you enough", and when she made to open the door, but he did not budge, "Belive me when I say I will forget the kindness you have given us quite fast, Bard, I-"

"You two will remain here", he spoke each word slowly, and she understood and went rigid. Sighing angrily, she turned her back to him and sat back down.

"You're staying?", Tilda ran to her and held her hands, then the elf smiled at her and caressed her hair, "I'm so glad!", and she hugged her.

"Apparently, I am", she glared at their father, who gave her a stern look before leaving through the door.

On the civic square of Laketown, during night time, a group of dwarves whispered among themselves. They had been cautiously hiding through the town that had welcomed them, about to commit something that could prove to be very dangerous for their quest.

"As soon as we pull the weapons we make straight for the Mountain", they all nodded at their King, that signalled them to move forwards, "Go, go, go!", whispered Thorin to Nori.

Bombur, Bifur and Fili stood on each other's shoulders, while Kili was on his hands and knees so they could hault themselves and go through the small window. Quickly entering the armory, the dwarves began sorting through the weapons. In the shadows, Balin watched them, nervously.

"Just take what we need and go!", ordered Thorin while loading weapons into Kili's arms, who staggered under the weight, "You're alright?", asked their King, and his younger nephew looked at him, pale.

"I can manage", nodded the shorter dwarf, "Let's just get out of here", and as he turned his back and began going down the stairs, it was too much for his injured leg.

His leg gave away, and he fell, along with the weapons he carried. The loud sound of everything falling made the dwarves look at him, but it was too late. Steps were heard and they looked at each other, frozen in place. Dori, the first to recover gave the order.

"Run!", and when Nori, who was at the front, had been about to bolt, two guards pointing their spears at him made him stop. Grabbing the weapons they had stolen, they pointed them at the guards, but were quickly overwhelmed.

Spears were pointed at their throats, and they were made to walk through the town, close to the Master's home. Alfrid's head peeked outside, and when he saw what had caused the commotion outside, he quickly closed the door. As soon as they arrived at the stairs, escorted by Braga and a group of armed guards, the large double doors opened once more, but this time, its owner walked outside. The people had gathered and whispered excitedly.

"What is the meaning of this?", demanded the Master.

"We caught them stealing weapons, Sire", answered Braga.

"Enemies of the State, eh?", smirked the blonde man, and a gasp was heard from the more nervous members of the crowd.

"A desperate bunch of mercenaries if ever was, Sire", mocked Alfrid, with a serious face. But Dwalin would never let someone look down on his King.

"Hold your tongue!", he stepped forward, enraged, "You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal", the Masters eyebrows got heavy on top of his eyes, "This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!", announced Dwalin, with pride and pointing at his cousin.

"We are the Dwarves of Erebor", said their leader, after touching Dwalin's shoulder, "We have come to reclaim our homeland", he spoke with fierce eyes and a confident voice.

People whispered more in the crowds, spekaing fo how it was true - the dwarves of Erebor had returned! The Prophecy of old would certainly happen... A figure began nearing the end of the crowd, but remained in the shadows.

"I remember this town in the great days of old - fleets of boats lay at harbour - filled with silks and fine gems", Thorin had approached the Master, and looked around, "This was no forgotten out post, no forsaken town on a lake. This was the centre of all trade in the North!", the people began nodding and agreeing, "I would see those days return! I would re-light the great forges of the Dwarves, and send riches and wealth flowing once more from the Halls of Erebor!", he spoke as well as he rulled.

Cheers echoed through the crowd. Thorin turned to look back at the man who rulled the Laketown, but a voice made him look back again.

"Death!", almost everyone went quiet, and Bard walked to the front of the crowd, so he could face the dwarf, "That is what you will bring upon us! Dragon-fire and ruin!", holding the leader's gaze, the bowman kept on speaking, "If you awaken that beast, you will destroy us all!"

"You can listen to this naysayer", he moved his arms, "But I promise you this, if we succeed all will share in the wealth of the Mountain", he spoke quietly, but loud enough so everyone would listen, "You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!", more cheers were heard, loud like Thorin's voice at the end, but the hidden figure began shaking their head.

"All of you, listen to me", Bard turned to the crowd, desperate to be heard, "You must listen! Have you forgotten what happened to Dale?", the whispers began again, but they were not happy anymore, "Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm?", Thorin looked around and saw saddness, anger and fear, "And for what purpose? The blind ambition of a Mountainking", he was almost speaking between teeth when he turned back to look at the current King, "So riven by greed he could not see beyond his own desire!", Dwalin, who had been about to beat up Bard, was held back by Bofur. The crowd seemed to be agreeing with the man.

"Now, now", began the Master, "We must not, any of us, be too quick to lay blame", Alfrid nodded, "Let us not forget it was Girion", he pointed at Bard, who glared, "Lord of Dale, your ancestor who failed to kill the beast", Thorin looked at the tall man, in desbelief.

"It is true, Sire, we all know the story. Arrow after arrow he shot, each one missing it's mark", Alfrid made sure he had reinforced what the Master meant, and once more, the people were on the dwarves side.

"You have no right, no right to enter that Mountain", Bard had walked close to Thorin, and whispered to him.

"I have the only right!", the descendant of Durin whispered back, before turning his back on the man, "I speak to the Master of the Men of the Lake", he walked up some stairs, "Will you see the Prophecy fulfilled? Will you share in the great wealth of our people?", silence was all around them as the blonde man contemplated, "What say you?"

"I say onto you...", he pointed at the Dwarf King, and after a dramatic pause that had everyone holding their breaths, "Welcome! Welcome! Thrice welcome! King Under the Mountain!", exclaimed the Master, with his arms wide open. The hidden figure came into the light.

"Thorin!", hissed a voice from between the crowd, and when they all stepped aside, Mäetharanel was there.

Her steps were angry, and her mind screamed at her, but Mäetharanel would not stay quiet. He had to be insane! What had she just heard? Making her way to the front of the house, she glared straight into Thorin's eyes as she passed right in the middle of the Company who gasped, touched Bard's shoulder, walked past him and watched with pleasure as her lover's proud stance went rigid.

"Thorin, what is the meaning of this?", walking towards the frowning dwarf, the elf glared.

"And who is-", but she did not let the Master finish.

"Excuse me, I am speaking with my husband", gasps were heard all around, the Master himself seemed shocked, and even Alfrid, who had been lusting over the elf, shook himself awake and had the decency to appear stunned, "Have you thought about this?", she still hissed, but now she was speaking in whispers.

"Lass, not now", whispered Dwalin, but she glared at him.

"Dwalin, this is-", Thorin stood straight, and she understood there was no use speaking to him, "Very well then, have it your way", she nodded and arranged her back so she appeared even taller, before leaning forward and whispering, "I will be here to tell you I was right", and then, she walked past the bowing Master, into his home.

Hours later, most of them were already too much into their cups and had their bellies filled. Mäetharanel caressed Kili's pale face and he smiled up at her.

"I am fine", he leaned into her hand and she frowned, "Truly, it is nothing", he nodded as if it would add strength to his point.

"He lies", Fili kissed her cheek and sat by her side, "We were found because he dropped the weapons", looking down in shame, Kili seemed truly regretful.

"I'll have none of that from you, Ki, look up", and when he didn't, her hand in his chin made him, "Your brother is not trying to reprimand you, he is worried", his big brother nodded and he smiled.

"Yeah, sorry about that... I'll get me a cup of wine, anyone want some?", but he did not wait for an answer, and she smiled when Fili sighed and quickly went after him.

"Keep on looking at me like that and a hole will appear through my head, Thorin", turning to look back at her husband, she frowned at him, but her eyes were gentle, "I cannot believe what you have done", she whispered, "You do understand what you did? The promises you have made and need to keep?", her blue eyes searched for something in his.

She understood he had done it out of desperation. Thorin gave them what they wanted so they could have what the Company neeeded, but still, Mäeth worried. Bofur and told her all that happened in the armory, how they were thrust into the walls and had spears pointed at heir throats. That along with the fact that the Master of the Laketown did not appear to be the smartest person was a major problem in her head. What if he had said no? Was it so easy to risk everyone's life?

Their nephews, Dwalin, Balin, everyone else... Their child. Looking down, she thought hard about it. Would it make him more cautious if he knew of their babe? Caressing her lower stomach discreetly she sighed. In there, their child was protected from every danger and bad intention. What she saw in her love's eyes, his beautiful, once serene eyes, had made her fear even more: he was hungry, but not for her, not for food. She had seen in before, and Thranduil had told her of the way Thrain looked at the Arkenstone. They were close.

"I am well aware of what I have done", he nodded and she slumped back against the tall chair, "Are you not enjoying yourself?", she looked at him and he began getting closer to the first button of her cape, but she grabbed his hands.

"Thorin-", he looked into her eyes with saddness.

"Why do you hide from me?", whispered Thorin while leaning his forehead against hers.

"I have been worried, my King", she looked down, away from his eyes, and arranged her cape, "Ever since we left the Mirkwood, the water has been restless, and has made me lose my sleep too. Something is going to happen", she began playing with the big ring on her finger and the dwarf King separated from her.

"I know what keeps you awake", he caressed her hands and she stopped moving, "But you can't go", she glared up at him without moving her head, "Erebor is about to be ours, once more", he caressed her face, "To be mine."

"Oh, Thorin...", smiling sadly, her glare did not disappear, "That decision is not yours to make", then, she stood up and walked into the balcony of the house they had settled in.

Morning came. Bilbo and the dwarves had been dressed in absurd looking finery, given to them by the Master along with a barge loaded with supplies. A crowd had formed to bid them goodbye and fill them with good lucks and well wishes. Bilbo began counting everyone and frowned.

"You do know we're one short - where's Bofur?", asked the red head. Thorin and the others began pushing through the crowds, with Mäetharanel in the back.

"If he's not here, we leave him behind", said their leader, still walking.

"We'll have to if we're to find the door before nightfall. We can risk no more delays", Balin nodded and he too, remained walking.

Pausing at the foot of the gangplank, he watched as the dwarves and Bilbo passed by him, but put his hand on Kili's shoulder when he meant to go inside too. The dwarf stopping made Mäetharanel freeze a couple feet behind him, and put her hands on his shoulders

"Not you. We must travel at speed, you will slow us down", said his uncle, passing weapons to the inside of the barge. Kili looked up at him and smiled, incredolous.

"What are you talking about? I'm coming with you", but his uncle's expression told him otherwise. Fili stopped helping and looked towards his brother and uncle, "I'm going to be there when that door is opened - when we first look upon the halls of our fathers", he seemed determined, and the elf behind him did not know who to agree with.

"Kili", he spoke his name like her father used to say hers when he was trying to make her see reason, "Stay here, rest. Join us when your healed", he caressed the back of his head. Despite the gentle gesture, Kili shook his head and when his uncle turned his back. he stepped away.

"I'll stay with the lad. My duty lies with the wounded", Spoke Oin, walking off the barge. Mäetharanel, who had stopped right in front of the plank, made way for him to pass, but stayed put.

"Uncle?", Fili had approached him to confront his decision, "We grew up on tales of the Mountain, tales you told us", his blue eyes shoke when he spoke, "You cannot take that away from him. I will carry him if I must-", he wanted his brother, like Arda wanted peace. Without him, it made no sense.

"One day you will be King and you will understand", he answered in a low voice, "I cannot risk the fate of this quest for the sake of one dwarf, not even my own kin", looking behind Thorin, Fili saw Kili shaking his head, pain evident in his expression, and made to disembark, "Fili! Don't be a fool! You belong with the Company-", their leader grabbed his arm.

"I belong with my brother", and setting himself free, he walked towards a surprised Kili.

Their elf looked back and saw Fili holding his brother's face and speaking to him in low whispers. Oin was shaking his head and speaking something she had understood was related to poisons. A hand grabbing hers made her look to the front, where Thorin stood. His eyes searched her face, and he frowned.

"You seem pale", he touched her forehead, "What ails you?", Dis did. Her voice inside her mind, yelling and trying to make her stay with her children, was much too loud for Mäeth's tastes.

"I", wincing, she began massaging her temples, "I can't stop you", he seemed to understand what was about to happen, "Thorin, you made a promise, but I have made one too", she grabbed his face, "I promised our Dis, that Fili and Kili would return to her, that she would hold them once more", whispered the elf, while leaning down, "I intend to keep my promise, but I am not capable of stopping you from yours."

They looked at each other for some seconds, before their lips touched and nothing else mattered. When he grabbed the back of her head, meaning to deepen the kiss and to push her close, she detached from him, ran her fingers through their courting braid in his hair, and turned back to their boys.

The band began playing, and when she reached them, their shocked expressions were almost funny to see. The Master and Alfrid made their way through the crowd, and the loud sounds echoed everywhere, even more inside the empty halls of the house the Company had spent the night at. Bofur sat up, banged his head on the underside of the Master's desk and took a few seconds to realise what was happening.

"By my beard, is that the time!?", he was so late.

Outside, despite the poor surroundings, the band seemed to shine. Standing on a makeshift podium, the Master cleared his throat.

"Go now with our goodwill and good wishes... And may your return bring good fortune to all!", cheers and applause echoe all around the bank of the river. Their barge begins slidding out into the icy waters, and just as they began going, Bofur appeard, rushing through the crowd and stopping by Oin's side.

"Did you miss the boat as well?", Mäetharanel had been about to answer, but Kili began swaying, and Fili, who had noticed, gasped.

"Kili? Kili!", the older brother catched the dark haired young dwarf prince. Slumped agains his brother, sweat beads in his forehead and in his pale face, Kili's breathing was shallow. When Oin pulled the make-shift bandage on his leg aside, the elf stiffened. Her nephews leg was black.

"Durin save us!", said Oin.

"Come, quick!", Mäetharanel helped Kili stand up, and Bofur and Fili each grabbed one of his arms. They walked through town, following after Oin and the elf.

Stopping in front of a door they all knew, Bofur knocked. Bard opened the door, and shook his head when he saw the dwarf.

"No - I am done with Dwarves. Go away", but before he could close the door, Bofur scrambled forward and managed to get his foot in the doorway.

"No one will help us, please", his panic made the man open the door, "Kili is sick", he looked back towards the other dwarf, being held by Fili and the elf that had tear trails on her cheeks as she looked down at him, "He's very sick", Mäetharanel pleaded with her eyes, and kept on caressing the dark tresses.

Looking at them, Bard did not know what to do.

*I thought you were an Orc

*If I was an Orc, you would be dead.

*Come back with me ... he will forgive you.

*But I will not ... If I go back, I will not forgive myself.

Chapter Text

Thorin stood at the prow of the barge. His eyes held the image in fornt of him with a firmness that had slowly become familiar to them all. The Lonely Mountain rose at the far end of the lake. He lead the small company into the foothills above laketown, looking back when they all set foot ashore. They were missing some members, important people that should have been by his side for what was about to happen. His nephews, his heir, his Queen... they should have been there. 

The company looked around and noticed new vegetation growing among the blackened ruined forests, but the trees were still sick, the earth was still poisoned. Bilbo looked up and carefully watched the ruins of ancient houses, towers, bridges and roads that were shadowed by the mountain. The landscape was completely destroyed, and he could almost hear their elf (oh, how he missed her, already!) lamenting the destruction of nature, and the contamination of water.

"What is this place?", Bilbo looked around, examining his surroundings.

"Once it was the city of Dale, now it is a ruin", answered Balin, sadly, "The desolation of a dragon."

"The sun will soon reach midday", Thorin had looked up towards the pale, watery light of a noon day sun, "We must find the hidden door in to the Mountain before it sets. This way!"

"Wait, is this the Overlook", the hobbit hesitated, "Gandalf told us to meet him here!"

"Do you see him?", asked their leader, "We have no time to wait upon the Wizard - we are on our own. Come!", the dwarf King had taken the map from the silent red head and had resumed his walk to the mountain.

Said wizard was accompanied by another, Radagast, and they were in Dol Goldur. How wonderful it was, to be in the hulking, dark ruins of the abandoned fortress... Among the Mirkwood gloom, the fortress was, after so many centuries, still standing. The two wizards watched it from a hidden advantage point.

"Dol Guldur, the Hill of Sorcery", Gandalf looked into it with a terrible feeling.

"It looks completely abandoned", noted the brown wizard.

"As it is meant to... a spell of concealment lies over this place", a small smile appeared on the grey's face, "which means our enemy is not yet ready to reveal himself, he has not regained his full strength", nodding, he turned towards his companion, "Radagast, I need you to carry a message to the Lady Galadriel, tell her we must force his hand."

"What do you mean?", frowned the other man, while conferring their surroundings quickly.

"I'm going in alone. On no account come after me", nodding, the Brown began going away, "Do I have your word?", asked the other wizard, without turning around.

"Yes, yes, yes...", turning around, Radagast frowned, worry and fear had consumed him, "Wait, Gandalf... what if it's a trap?"

"Turn around and do not come back. It's undoubtedly a trap", confirmed his frienf while making his way from their point. Unsheating Glamdring he moved along the crumbling causeway towards the front gate, and disappeared.

Keeping close to the wall and surveying his surroundings, Gandalf heard nothing, saw nothing, and it unsettled him. Raising his staff, he began speaking and elvish spell, loud and commanding.

"Ké ná ulko sís nurtaina - I ettuluvas kaninye; Kanin i sá tanuvakse!*", yelled the wizard, while slamming his staff down

A powerful pulse of white light travlled across the old fortress like a shock wave, but nothing was revealed. Walking a bit more, the spell was said once more, the staff slammed down again and he waited. Still, nothing. But alas, there was someone there. Azog, the Defiller stood on a darkened, ill-lit courtyard. Warg riders surrounded the tall Orc, waiting his commands. Looking up, his blue eyes stood out even more in the dark.

"Zidgu...*", an orc underling creeped forward, scared.

"Obtoragish gulum-nu... gimyashim*", said the smaller one, but their leader only smiled grimly.

"Hurnash*", the other nodded, and kept looking at the moving wizard.

On the Lonely Mountain, the dwarves and Bilbo had spread out along the side of the Mountain. Dwalin and Gloin appeared from behind a ridge line and Thorin called out to them.

"Anything?", asked their King.

"Nothing", his cousin and guard answered. 

"There must be a way - if this map is true, the hidden door lies directly above us", desperate and beginning to lose hope, Thorin studied the map.

Bilbo rounded the corner of a large rock outcrop and found himself staring at the base of a huge dwarven statue that rose high into the cliffs above of them. Turning to the others, he called out.

"Up here!", the dwarves clustered around, and Bilbo pointed to the crumbling and worn stairs that were carved into the armour and cloth of the gigantic statue. 

"You have keen eyes, Master Baggins", clapping the hobbit's back, Thorin walked behind him as Bilbo lead them up the stairs.

Arriving at the top of the statue, there was a steep walled ledge. One by one, the dwarves join Bilbo and stare at the smooth surface of the rock wall. The red head suddenly remembered they weren't just dwarves who had lost their home, they were also men that were devoted to stones and jewels. Thorin caressed the surface of the rock and felt and saw the outline there. 

"This is it - the hidden door", said the King, softly. His eyes closed and he thought of his Queen, of how she and their nephews should be there. Pulling the key from the inside of his shirt and ripping it form it's chain, he held it up, "Let all those who doubted us - rue this day!", he smiled widely, and the others cheered.

"Right then, we have a key, which means somewhere... there is a keyhole", Dwalin began touching around the stone.

Sometime had passed, and the sun was beginning to descend. Despite his efforts, and growing panick, Dwalin could not find the keyhole.

"The last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole", repeated Thorin, desperation clawing at him once more, "Nori!"

Nori was already pulling some sort of specialist equipment from his backpack. Stepping up to the wall, he examined the smooth surface of the stone wall with an expert eyes. Dwalin joined him and ran his hands across the wall, again. Nori placed a listening device to the rock and began tapping it with a small chisel, listening for a hollow sound. Thorin anxiously watched the both of them working, while Balin stared at the wall by his side.

"We're loosing the light - come on!", urged the Durin heir. Dwalin turned towards him, concerned. Turning around, he chanelled all his anger into his shoulder and rammed at the wall, searching and bashing.

"Be quiet. I can't hear when you're thumping!", Nori complained, desperately looking for a sound.

"I can't find it. It's not there", Dwalin kept on trying to find something, more and more quickly, his eye twisted, his hands had cuts and he was not even feeling them.

"Break it down!", ordered Thorin. Bilbo jumped in fright when the others began striking agasint the hard stone wall with picks and chisels, "Come on!", Disappointed and sad blue eys entered his mind and he could not take it. It was both Fili and Mäeth, "It has to break!", he spoke under his breath, imagining the pain Kili must be under, and how he had left him back, just to fail.

A breaking sound was heard. Their instruments broke and shattered. Thorin's face darkened as he examined the wall, still perfect. Not a single dent, not a cut, nothing.

"It's no good", spoke Balin, "the door is sealed. It cannae be opened by force. There is a powerful magic on it", his sad voice went quiet, and Thorin looked around at the sun desperately.

But it did not wait for him, it did not wait until they could achieve what they had been wanting so much. The sun sunk behind a band of low, thick cloud and sat just above the horizon. Angrily pulling out the map form his pocket, Thorin poked at the runes.

"'The last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole', that's what it says!", yelled the King, "What did we miss? What did we miss, Balin?", he desperately questioned his younger cousin, who shook his head and remained quiet.

Thorin lost it then. All the hope he still had. The light began disappearing and with it, all of his dreams, all of his happiness, all of the reasons for him to return to Ered Luin. How could he face Dís? How could he return to the Laketown and go get his family back? How could he tell Mäetharanel she had been away from her kin for so long, and it was for nothing? He had failed. He failed his family, his love, his people. Balin put a comforting hand to his shoulder.

"We have lost the light, there's no more to be done", said the white haired dwarf, as gently as he could, "We had but one chance... it's over. Come on lads, come away", and he let go of Thorin's shoulder.

Opening his hand, he looked at the key there. It had only one job, it only had to open the door to Erebor, it only had to let them inside their home. But it failed. Slowly turning his palm, he watched the key fall to the floor. Slowly, they began turning away and making their way down the hidden path. Bilbo, who still stood dumbfounded, refused to let their quest be in vain. It could not be the end, not like that!

"Wait a minute, where're they going?", he asked Thorin as he neared him, "You can't give up now! Thorin? You can't give up now...", but the Prince only thrusted the map at Bilbo's chest as he left.

While the others ignored him, Bilbo turned to stare back at the wall, and began thinking. A cold wind had began going around the Mountain and was blowing around him. Looking towards the west, the hobbit faced the silver moon raising in the sky. A soft beam of light began appearing across the face of the rock wall.

"Stand by the grey stone", he began whispering, "when the thrush knocks and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine", he looked up towards the moon once again, "...the last light... the last light...", his eyebrows went up when a sound began seeping into his consciousness. 

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK... Turning around, the red head saw the thrush. It had caught a large snail in it's beak and was knocking it's shell agasint the grey rock. The moonlight began gaining strength and his mouth opened in bewilderment. Faint moon runes began shimmeting on the rock face. Bilbo catched his breath and watched as a narrow red ray of dying sunlight escaped through a rent in the cloud. 

It raced through a valley, went past him and fell on the wall in front of him. CRACK! A flake of rock split and fell from the wall, leaving a hole in the midst of the moon rune marking. For a brief moment, the light from both the moon and the sun played on the rock. The hole on the wall was big enough for the key to fit in. That had to be it!

"The last light... The last light!". he spoke softly at first, before he began calling out, "Come back! It's the light of the moon... the last moon of autumn", he informed his companions, loudly, "The key! Where is the key?", he asked himself.

Scrambling around desperately in the dark, Bilbo tried finding the key on the dusty ledge, but he found nothing. Walking around, his furry foot unwittingly knocked against the key sending it flying towards the edge of the bay. His shoulders went up, his hand went forward, and panick installed itself on his stomach, until a heavy, dwarven boot stopped the key from sliding over the edge. Thorin looked at him as he bent down and picked it up.

Inserting the key into the hole, it turned, and then- click. The dwarves stared at the moonlit door and at the runes that glowed in the silvery light, that were beggining to fade. An old mechanism released it's hold, and the rock face shuddered slightly. Putting his hands to the wall, Thorin pushed against it, and they all watched as long, straight cracked appeared and widened as the door slowly opened inwards, soundlessly.

"Erebor...", he spoke softly, still not believing it.

They all stood outside, watching the darkness that had taken the inside of the mountain. Theu heir walked forward into the darkness, as if spellbound and breathed the mountain air.

"Thorin...", Balin whispered his name with tears in his eyes as he watched his cousin touch the stone walls of the tunnel.

"I know these walls... these halls, this stone", he whispered, too "Do you remember it, Balin?", he did. He remembered chambers filled with golden light.

"I remember...", answered the other. Out of everyone, he and Thorin had been the ones to know their kingdom the best.

An image was etched in stone above the inside of the door. It was beautifully carved. Gloin read the ancient runes beneath the carving, in what Bilbo could only guess was their language.

"Herein lies the Seventh Kingdom of Durin's folk... may the Heart of the Mountain unite all Dwarves in defence of this Home", the hobbit heard him, but his eyes could not leave the ornate carving that depicted a throne. Above it, there was a small, oval shaped gem suspended.

"The throne of the King", explained Balin, reverently.

"What's that above it?", Bilbo asked, his eyes never leaving the stone whose light shined in all directions.

"The Arkenstone", answered Balin, nodding.

"The Arkenstone? Hmmm...", he had heard that name before, they had spoken of it, "And what's that?", he looked around and everyone was staring at him.

"That, Master Burglar, is why you are here", declared Thorin.

In Bard's home, Kili's face was completely filled with sweat. Fili looked at Oin as their medic scrambled around, trying to find something helpful. As Kili kept on moaning and trashing in pain, Mäetharanel whispered gently and roamed her hands through his completely sweat drenched hair. Fili, who watched his brother in pain, was twisting his moustache. 

Gently grasping his hand, the elf tried a reassuring smile, but the blonde just looked sad. Kili whimpering made her sit by his bedside. Despite containing her tears, she could not stop the wince that left her throat when her younger nephew groaned loudly.

"Dís, I'm sorry", whispered the elf,  "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...", she contained her tears, "Kili, listen to me, look at me, my mizimith*...", hearing the familiar word, one of the few his mind could register among so much pain, he turned his head to face her, fast and disoriented and Mäetharanel smiled shakily, "My beautiful, beautiful boy", he winced, and she caressed his nearly white cheek, "Oh, my dear", whispered the Queen while watching his pained eyes.

"Can you not do something?", Fili asked Oin as Bofur prepared a basin filled with water.

"I need herbs, something to bring down his fever", answered the medic, and Bard turned to quickly scavenge through his herb bag.

"I have nightshade, feverfew...", said the bowman, his hands still searching for anything else as fast as his words.

"They're no use to me. Do you have any Kingsfoil?", upon hearing the name, the elf's eyes brightened.

"Athelas... But of course!", whispered the elf. Grabbing the side of the bed, she tried to stand up, but winced when her child battled against one of her organs, "Easy, you", rubbing her stomach, the babe calmed down.

"No, it's a weed. We feed it to the pigs", said the master of the house.

"Pigs? Weed? Right", Bofur was quick to leave the house in search of it. Mäetharanel walked towards Bard, whose eyes did not leave her figure.

"Feverfew should help while Bofur does not return", and she grasped the plant and began crushing it, while whispering magic, "Fili, help me, will you?", nodding, the heir touched his brother's arms and whispered to him in kuzdhul. Kili began fighting against his brother's arms, "Kili, Kili it will be fast, please", he shook his head when she approached, and she sighed, "Hold him down", Fili did it, and it pained him as much as it hurt his brother.

Mäetharanel began chanting and applying the ointment inside the dwarf's shirt. Soon, he settled, and they both sighed in relief. He was still moaning, but at least he did not fight against their hands. Standing up, she reached into the sink and began cleaning her hands.

"Mäetharanel", she nodded without looking at Bard, listening closely, "I am a father of three, as you know. Tilda has not left you alone from the moment you appeared", she put the rag she had been using to dry her hands down before finally looking at him, "I recognize a pregnant woman when I see one. And I know the condition you're in."

The Queen sighed, angry, and glared up at him. Fully turning to him she acessed the man, how dangerous was it that he knew her condition? Would he tell Fili and Oin? No, he couldn't, he wouldn't. In the moment she opened her mouth to begin speaking, the door to his house slammed open, and Sigrid screamed. Orcs had barged into Bard's home.

Bilbo and Balin walked down the narrow tunnel that should take them to where all of Erebor's riches were. Behind them, the doorwat framed the dark silhouette of the others, waiting for the other dwarf as he walked the hobbit to where he could, most probably, die.

"You want me to find a jewel?", the hobbit turned to look at Balin

"A large white jewel, yes", nodded the dwarf.

"That's it? Only, I imagine there's quite a few down there", Balin looked at him with certainty in his gaze.

"There is only one Arkenstone. You'll know it when you see it", they kept on walking together, until Balin stopped.

"Right", Bilbo walked towards the end of the corridor but suddenly paused.

"In truth, lad, I do not know what you will find down there", the white haired dwarf was worried for him, "You needn't go if you don't want to. There's no dishonour in turning back", they both knew what he spoke of.

"No, Balin... I promised I would do this and I think I must try", tightening his belt, Bilbo adjusted the small sword at his side and prepared to head down the tunnel.

"It never ceases to amaze me", Balin smiled and shook his head, admired.

"What's that?", Bilbo raised an eyebrow.

"The courage of Hobbits", clapping Bilbo on the back, he gave him a gentle look, "Go now with as much luck as you can muster", heading down the tunnel, he had been about to turn the corner when Balin called him back, "Oh and Bilbo", he said, "if there is in fact a live dragon down there... do not awaken it", Confused, the read head turned to look at him, but he had gone away.

In Dol Goldur, Gandalf moved through an abandoned courtyard, incanting a spell while sweeping his staff over the empty darkness. Suddenly, someone jumped him from above, and he quickly stood up to fight. Sweeping his foot over the other's feet, he watched as the smaller being fell to the ground, only to wrestle him to the ground. The wixard proved to be stronger and threw him off himself, but the other did not stay down, and ran to him before trying to jump him once more. Gandalf did not allow him to, and threw him to the other side, and down the end of the platform they stood in.

Running inside the fortress, he searched for the person he had just thrown inside. Running steps made him turn to look over his shoulder, but he found nothing. Turning around, he began running in the opposite direction of the steps he kept on hearing. He thought he recognised that person, that man... he run until he found himself in the middle of four different paths he could follow, and right after he had stopped to think which one he should follow, the figure was on him once again, armed with a knife, this time. 

Gandalf had been thrown into a wall, and took hold of the man that had stuck himself to his body and would not let go, before throwing him to the ground. Looking into the other's feral eyes, his suspicions were confirmed. Quickly putting his hand to the other's forehead, he began chanting a spell while the other squirmed and screeched while opening and closing his mouth. When the spell ended, the other had calmed down, his white eyes began getting clear.

Gandalf took a deep breath, let his hand go over the other's face, and their eyes met. Recognition swarmed inside tired, old blue eyes. 

"Thrain...", said Gandalf, not believing he was seeing the dwarf "Son of Thror... my old friend", whispered the wizard.

"Gandalf", answered the other, still trying to regain his breath, "A lifetime...", said the dwarf, while sitting up, "I've been here a lifetime", he spoke while trying to remember.

"I'm so sorry, I gave you up for dead...", Gandalf's blue eyes held saddness and true regret.

"I had a son", spoke Thrain, slowly. He remembered it well, now, how his boy had told him he'd fight with him, "Thorin."

"And you will see him again, my friend", he helped him stand up, and they began walking through the fortress, "Come, we must leave."

"The orcs had taken Moria", he was still remembering what had happened, "War, we were at war...", his steps and his mind were clumsy, "I was surrounded", Gandalf held his sleeve as they walked, "The Defiller", whispered the once strong warrior, "Azog, the Defiller, had come", his eyes were filled with fear as he stopped walking.

He remembered how he had been fighting agasint the orcs in front of Moria, how they had tried to take him down, but he did not allow them. He remembered throwing one to the ground and hitting him with his hammer, before meeting Azog's eyes. He remembered the pale orc advancing towards him, mace in hand, the intention to kill in his eyes. He had stopped his weapon from hitting him, but he could not stop him from throwing him to the ground.

And Thrain fell. Laughing at him, the orc stopped his hand from reaching his war hammer, and he screamed as his hand was pratically broken under the other's weight. The pale orc rea ched for his blade while looking at his ring, one of the Rings that had been forged for the dwarves, so long ago... he remembered the pain of him taking it from him, along with his finger. '

Gandalf watched as his friend regained his memories. Despite his grief, the wizard grabbed his hand, gently, and they both looked at his severed finger, the top part missing.

"They took it...", whispered Thrain, his eyes wide.

"The last of the seven...", whispered the Grey as he looked around, "I must get you out of here", and he resumed walking, but the dwarf didn't.

"There is no way out!", Gandalf stopped going up the stairs and faced him, "They will stop you", Thrain pointed at him and began walking back, in fear, "The serpents will stop you!", but they were not serpents. Looking at them, the wizard tapped the wall with his staff.

"It's an illusion", looking at Thrain, Gandalf turned back to the stairs, "Just an illusion...", but he turned back, and went down the stairs, frowning, "What have they done to you?"

"I never told him", said the other, "They tried to make me, but I never said a word", he spoke with fervor and shook his head, "Have you kept them safe, Gandalf?", he looked at his friend with hope, "The map, and the key?"

"I gave them to Thorin", he walked to Thrain, whose hope disappeared, "You'll be proud of him, he's taken the quest to reclaim Erebor", then he reached for the dwarves shoulder, but he got away.

"Erebor!", he began backing away from the wizard, with fear in his expression.

"He'll retrieve the Arkenstone", Thrain shook his head, "The seven armies of the dwarves will answer to a new king", smiled the wizard.

"No", the father of Thorin shook his head, "No, Thorin must not got near Erebor!", he spoke with finality and Gandalf's smile fell, "No one must enter that Mountain!", turning to the stairs, he quickly ran up and went right into the corridor, "We must be weary of them!", the wizard ran after him, "Hurry! We must hurry!", but Azog appeared and immediatly struck Gandalf with his mace.

Laughing, he watched as Gandalf tried to stand up. Thrain stood to the side, watching his friend try to regain his footing and shaking like a leaf.

"Nakhig lo shulun, Sharrukû*", said the defiller, while walking around, "Gorz nash!*", and he swung his mace once more, but the wizard was back on his feet, and his staff was ready.

"Where is your Master? Where is he?", demanded Gandalf while aiming his staff at Azog and his orcs, a powerful force coming from it stopped them from approaching.

"Ommig shâ zog*", answered the pale orc, "Undaguz nag*", and because he had backef Gandalf into the edge of a cliff, he saw he spoke the truth. His blue eyes fell upon the legions of orc armies gathered in the depths of the fortress, "Murganim*", while he prepared to attack, Gandalf pulsed a bright light towards Azog, and then both he and Thrain were gone, "Gurid Dum!*", ordered the orc after recovering from the diziness.

Wargs and orcs followed after them, and they ran as fast as they could. At some point, they were outside and Gandalf struck the tower where the entrance they had just gone through was, and broke the first half of the bridge, stopping them from keeping their pursuit. 

Continuing their escape, Azog's screams were heard everywhere. Thrain suddenly came to a halt when a dark shadow appeared. Dol Goldur was vibrating, the sky had broiled and black clouds had gathered.

"Ziduk ya nan...", a heavy voice was heard, filled with dark power, "uzu nak zidan", Thrain and Gandalf held each other as the dark cloud began gaining arm like tentacles. Looking up at his friend, the dwarf blinked and took a deep breath.

"Tell Thorin that I love him", in that moment, Thrain was not the son of Thror, he was not the true heir of Erebor, or the prisioner of Azog. Thrain was a father that ached for his son, and he wished he could tell him those words, but Gandalf had cleared his mind, "Will you do that? Will you tell my son I love him?", his eyes had tears in them.

"You will tell him yourself", yelled Gandalf as he fought against the strength of the necromancer.

"It's too late", he shrank against Gandalf, but it did nothing to hide him from the dark power that reached for him.

Gandalf watched as the shadow took his friend, who screamed in fear as he was consumed by it. Raising his staff against the powerful force, an angry shield of light surrounded him, but it did nothing against the dark force. The wizard watched as his staff slowly desintegrated in his hands.  A huge flaming eye appears and a force lifts Gandalf and smashes him to the ground. 

As he is slammed against the wall, he winces in pain. Staring into the flaming mass, he watches the dark pupil turn into the shape of a figure he knew very well.

"Sau...ron!", said Gandalf under his breath.

*Whatever evil is hidden here - I command it come forth; I command it reveal itself

*The Wizard...

*He is lifting the spell ... he will find us.

*Yes.

*Jewel that is young

*You have come too late, Wizard!  

*It is done

*He is everywhere. 

*We are legion.  

*It is over.

*Run the down!

*There is no light Wizard

*that can defeat darkness.

Chapter Text

Bilbo stopped, and tried to control his breathing. Could the dragon hear it? He probably could. Hearing him meant he knew Bilbo was there. Him knowing Bilbo was there meant Bilbo would die, and if Bilbo dies that means the whole journey was for naught and-

"You are brave, Master Baggins", Mäetharanel's voice was all over his mind and he stopped breathing.

He remembered that night well, when the others had been sleeping and they had done their round together. The elf had her hair tied in a high ponytail, her blue eyes were tired and her sword was by her side, like always. Bilbo knew it had been days ever since they had taken time to wash, but despite having some dirt on her face and clothes, she still seemed perfect in his eyes. 

"I'm an hobbit. We're supposed to stay at home to entertain guests, not... be running around", he looked to the side and she chuckled, quietly.

"Yes, you are. But, as I've heard from Gandalf, your blood is both calm and adventurous", he looked towards her and nodded, "I believe the Took in you has been kept at bay for so long, that at the slightest bit of adventure it just jumped out", he blushed and made a 'huff' sound, "But I am glad you have joined us. You already battled trolls, and the journey has just begun. Don't you wonder what will come next?"

"I do, but not without fear", she took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"There is not a dwarf in this company that does not fear what will come next, Bilbo", she smiled, "I fear for us, too. But it is people like you that make me see the good in the world, you know? It doesn't have to be fear alone, some of us are brave, and we act upon it", leaning back against the tree she looked up towards the sky, "You left the comforts of your small home, with nothing but a backpack, and here you are, with us."

"You left your own too, did you not have family?", her smiled turned sad, and her eyes closed. He did not get an answer, but when Bofur and Kili woke up after she shook them awake, he went to sleep feeling a lot more taller.

With sweat running down his face, Bilbo Baggins felt hot, but he also felt filled with courage. His dear elvish friend who he wanted to see again, so much, gave him courage once more. Looking ahead, he saw a faint glow emanating from the caverns ahead of himself, but it was not fire. It was gold. The moonlight seeping through the caverns made it even more cravable. The hobbit found himself wanting to see the treasure that the dragon held watch over, just as he had wanted treasure ever since the damned ring came to be in his possession... But he forgot about it as soon as his eyes fell on the vast dwarf-halls, raising above him. 

"Not at home... good, good", his voice echoed softly through the cavern.

His feet touched the cold coins, and he attempted to avoid them, he really did, but it was impossible. The floor was covered in it! The hobbit found hills of not only coins, but cups, trinkets, so many things all made of pure gold. No matter how much he tried to move slowly, putting as little weight as he could on his big feet, he still felt he was about to fall down the gold at anytime.

"The Arkenstone...", Bilbo muttered to himself, "The Arkenstone... A large white jewel. How helpful!", spoke the hobbit, under his breath. Then, he made a mistake.

Reaching out, the red head pulled a small gold cup from between one of the mountains of gold, and it sett off a small landslide of golden coins. As the las pieces of gold fall away, they reveal the bulbuous lidded eye of a sleepign dragon: Smaug. Bilbo froze in horror. The big red dragon wa sin fornt of him, sleeping, burrowed under a mountain of gold. A vapor of steam gently rose through the mound of shimmering treasure. The hobbit could hear the soft sound of the dragon's breath, the beast was almost entirely hidden just a few feet away from him.

Staring up at the golden mountain that towered over him, Bilbo became suddenly aware of the dragon's massive size and stiffened. As Smaug exhaled and shifted in his sleep, mountains of gold subtly heave and resettle thought the enormous gallery. Then, the closed eye twitched and flickered and the hobbti slowly moved twards the narrow tunnel, all while still clutching the cuo in his hand.

A thin, piercing ray of red emanated from beneath the drooping lid of Smaug's left eye. Bilbo reached into his pocket and meant to put the ring on, as to conceal himself from the beast, but the evil light of the dragon's red eyes swept across him. He stood poised with the ring, too scared to move, as the eye suddenly turned and fixed on him. He only had time to put the ring on his finger and disappeared. The dragon's voice filled the room.

"Well, thief...", Bilbo knew he had stolen the dwarves treasure, but he was not expecting the red beast to sound so sly, "I smell you", his giant head swung just above Bilbo, his eyes were searching for him, "I hear your breath, I feel your air...", the hobbit froze in fear as the dragon's head stopped just above him, "Where are you? Where are you?"

That's when Bilbo turned and run, skidding and slidding down the mounds of gold. Smaug's beautiful, deadly eyes followed the movement of the coins, so prescious to him. Flattening himself agasint the tunnel entrance, Bilbo breathed fast.

"Come now, don't be shy...", taunted the beast, "Step into the light", but he did not, "There is something about you... something you carry? Something made of gold, but far more... precious", the red head stared into the eyes of the red dragon as if he had been hypnotised. 

Suddenly, an eye appeared in his mind, an eye that he did not know, but feared greatly. Ripping the ring from his finger, he quickly hid behind another pillar.

"There you are, thief in the Shadows!", his laugh filled the whole room, and Bilbo froze. They were eye to eye now.

"I did not come here to steal from you, O Smaug the Unassessably Wealthy, I merely wanted to gaze upon your magnificence...", despite his fear, his silver tongue remained, "To see if you were as great as the old tales say. I did not believe them", in his mind, he heard the voice of Mäetharanel, telling him to be brave.

Then the dragon rose. He was much larger than Bilbo had expected. His eyes looked up and followed the jewels in the beast's scales, the long neck, clad in red and shiny, until he found the dragon's large, open wings, all spread. Smaug showed off all of his endwoments, very well aware of how the light made the jewles in his chest glint more.

"And do you now?", he was full of himself, and Bilbo would take advantage of it. 

"Truly the tales and songs fall utterly short of your enormity, O Smaug, the Stupendous!", he spoke with fake surprise, that hid the fear he truly felt.

"Do you think flattery will keep you alive?", did dragons have eyebrows? Bilbo swore Smaug had raised an eyebrow.

"No?..", his soulders slump slightly.

"No, indeed", he beagn moving around, slowly, "You seem familiar with my name, but I don't remember smelling your kind before", he was trying to surround him, "Who are you and where do you come from, may I ask?" backing away towards the safety of a pillar, Bilbo's eye catched something. A radiant light emanated from within a mound of treasure, something different...

"I-I-I...", answering was difficult. Had he just found the jewel? Edging towards the light, he understood what Balin had told him. The Arkenstone was the most beautiful and magnificent jewel Bilbo had looked at, "Well ... I come from Under the Hill", storytelling it was. He had to gain time!

"Underhill...", answered the dragon. Smaug had taken the bait!

"And under hills and over hills my path has led", it wa snot a lie, their journey had taken them through hills, under and over too, "And through the air...", confidence began growing inside him, and he heard the elf's voice urging him to keep going, "I am he who walks unseen."

"Impressive...", he seemed thoughtful, "What else do you claim to be?", Bilbo tried to edge closer to the jewel.

"I am Luck-wearer; Riddle-maker", anything that made sense just came out of his mouth.

"Lovely titles...", he heard mockery now, and began thinking faster, "Go on."

"Barrel-rider", oh, and indeed he was!

"Barrels? Now, that is interesting", the hobbit began backing away, down the steep hill of gold as Smuag's movements got more agitated. Landslides of treasure were created because of his enormous body, "And what about your little Dwarf friends", Bilbo went rigid, "Where are they hiding?"

"Dwarves?! There's no Dwarves here. You've got it all wrong!", panic consumed him. No, no, no! He was not supposed to say that!

"Oh, I don't think so, Barrel-rider. They sent you in here to do their dirty work while they skulk about outside", the dragon moved and the Arkenstone got away from him as Smaug's huge body slided under the cloisters.

"Truly, you are mistaken, O Smaug, Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities", he felt like fainting, actually, Bilbo wanted to scream and cry. Or maybe, he'd do all of that and throw up.

"You have nice manners for a thief and liar!", the beast roared and Bilbo edged along the mound of gold trying to reach the King's Jewel, "I know the smell and taste of Dwarf - noone better...", going around wildly, Smaug's tail and body made the Arkenstone go further away, "It's the gold - they are drawn to treasure, like flies to dead flesh", his rage was heard through the roar he let out, "Did you think I did not know this day would come ... that a pack of canting Dwarves would come crawling back to the Mountain?"

A huge column tumbled down. Bilbo could only try to hide as he watched the dragon go in a frenzy.

The hobbit did not see how Thorin and Balin froze when the ground shook beneath their feet. Spinning around, the King stared into the darkness of the secret door.

"What were that? Were that an earthquake?", Balin looked at Dori, and nodded grimly.

"That, my lad, was a dragon", the others were nervous before Balin spoke. Now? They were terrified.

Before Mäetharanel could begin arguing with the bowman, a small tremor rippled through his house. Plates rattled on the shelves, and a low rumble could be heard. The elf held unto the sink, and the man grabbed her arm, instinctively. Her hand touched his and she looked towards the window, frowning.

"Da!?", Sigrid looked around, scared.

"It's coming from the Mountain...", Bain had his eyebrows heavy with worry.

"You should leave us" said Fili, after him and Bard exchanged looks, "Take your children, get out of here", little Tilda began to slowly approach her father and the elf.

"And go where? There is nowhere to go", he had stood up straight, and shook his head.

"Are we going to die, Da?", the elf bent down and gently caressed her hair. Bard, who could read the fear in his little one's eyes could only reassure her.

"No, Darlin'", he tried giving her a smile, but children were not so easily deceived.

"But the dragon, it's going to kill us", whispered the little one, and Mäetharanel shook her head.

"It won't, Tilda. Your Da and I won't let it happen, sweetling", she kissed the top of the girl's head and held her tight. 

"Mäetharanel is right, love", the man crossed to a hiding place, and withdrew a long, black arrow, "It will not kill us", the elf smiled, "Not if I kill it first."

The dragon let out flames and laughs at the same time. Bilbo did not know what scared him the most, the fire or the malice in the cackling of the beast. The foundations of the mountain shook, and columns were smashed.

"The King Under the Mountain is dead!", announced Smaug, "I took his throne! I ate his people like a wolf among sheep. I kill where I wish, when I wish!", his enormous body seemed to shine more with the fire, "My armour is iron. No blade can pierce me."

More columns were brought down by his tail. The hobbit could only protect his head with his arms and run from the falling shards.

"You owe those people nothing, Bard", the elf looked into his eyes, "You are not Girion."

"I do. To them, I do", she shook her head and touched the tip of the black arrow.

"I never thought I would see one of these again...", her eyes told him a story, one filled with fire and pain, "If you insist on going, go. But remember your girls, Bard, remember your boy", their eyes met and she was sad, "They need you", he smiled, calm and determined.

"And they will have me", he looked back before going outside with his son.

She was already sitting by the dark haired dwarf's side, whispering gently and caressing his pale face. The blonde was holding her hand tightly and the healer was looking at the three with mournful eyes. The last thing he saw before his son closed their door, was the woman bringing the blonde into her embrace, and hold the older dwarf's hand.

Hurrying through the village's alleys, Bard held the black arrow tightly wrapped in cloth. Bain hurried to keep up with his father.

"A Black Arrow - why did you never tell me?", not looking back to his boy, the man made a sharp turn.

"Because you did not need to know", Bain frowned and paused behind his father. The Master's Hall was just ahead, "Listen to me, carefully, I need you to distract the guards... once I'm at the top of the tower I'll set the arrow to the bow."

"There he is! Stop him!", Braga had found them. 

Pushing his son away, they both run and ducked behind a corner. The guards chased them, but Bard would not lose hope so easily. Pushing the black arrow into Bain's hands, he gazed into his eyes. 

"Keep it safe. Don't let anyone find it!", the boy had been about to protest, "I'll deal with thim - go! Now!", he ran off, and Bard turned the corner to confront Braga.

"You are under arrest", the captain of the guard had his shoulders squared, his chest forward and his eyes showed the pride of finally catching his Master's worse thorn.

"On what charge?", but Bard only raised an eyebrow. He did not fear the other.

"Any charge the Master chooses", he smirked maliciously, and Bard swung his fist straight int he other's face. The captin stumbled back.

Breaking free, their prisoner ran away. The others pursued him once more, but Bard was a man of his city and he knew every path like he knew himself. Soon, he had lost his captors. But not the Master. Toppled by a foot, that had suddenly been thrust out of the shadows, he stumbled to the ground. The blonde, angry man stood over him, a lump of wood in his chubby hands. 

The dwarves looked into the tunnel and were met with a bright, orange light that flared in the dark. Another shake through the Mountain made them hold the walls. Ori, young and missing the warm touch on the back of his neck that would have been given by their elf's hand, looked nervously down into the Mountain. Something could not leave his minds

"What about Bilbo?", he looked at their leader, his hands shaking, his shoulders slumped.

"Give him more time", Thorin looked inside the tunnel too, eyes cold and almost uncaring.

"To do what? To be killed?", Balin met his King's eyes and even if he displayed a calm exterior, his cousin knew him.

"You are afraid", the blue eyes of Okaenshield searched inside the others. He found fear, anger, worry. But for what? The burglar that wasn't one of their own? For Kili, who they had left behind so the mission could eb accomplished?

"Yes, I am afraid", he turned to directly look at him, "I fear for you. A sickness lies upon that treasure hoard", his voice was assertive, he truly meant what he said, "a sickness that drove your Grandfather mad."

He remembered how he and his king's elf had talked about it once. How he had told her Thorin could fall to it sooner than later when their travels took them to the Mountain. 

"Thror fell to it, yes, but Thorin will not", said the elf as she brushed her long hair, "He has us, Balin, and most importantly, he has his home to regain", looking at him, she smiled, gently.

"It has been years since he last saw Erebor, Mäetharanel", he began fidgeting with the pen in his hand, "What if once he gets there... what if it proves to be too much? What if it is stronger than his good will?"

"Then, you and I will bring him back to reason", her hand took hold of his and her smile calmed him.

But she was not there, and from the look of it, he would not be able to bring him back from his hunger of gold. His blue eyes were deeper, the lines around his iris were more prominent and no matter how new Bilbo was to their lives, he had cared for the Hobbit. Balin saw it with his eyes, the relief he felt when, after battling Azog for the first time and almost dying, had it not been for the hobbit's bravery, he held him and thanked him. He had felt relief, happiness even, that the little red head still lived, despite the danger he had endured.

"I am not my Grandfather", his head turned to the side and his eyes hardened, trying to deny it.

"You are not yourself", Balin was not easily intimidated, "the Thorin I know would not hesitate-"

"I will not risk the Quest for the life of one burglar!", his voice boomed, and Balin glared and took a step forward. His shoulders went rigid, his eyes narrowed. 

"Bilbo... his name is Bilbo", he reminded him, angry for the one who was risking his life in that very moment for them, who was nothing to them.  An even more violent shake rumbled the ground, silencing him.

Smaug moved around and through the chamber, his voice low and filled with menace. 

"It's Oakenshield", declared the dragon, "that filthy, dwarvish usurper! He sent you in here for the Arkenstone, didn't he?", growled the large beast.

"No, no", denied the hobbit, "I came of my own accord!", 

"Don't bother denying it - I guessed his foul purpose some time ago. But it matters not... Oakenshield's quest will fail", declared the dragon, and the hobbit felt so much smaller than he was, so angry that this dragon had usurped the throne yet he called the true owner of it usurper... 

Bilbo took a deep breath and kept on running from the falling stones. Heavy they were, for they left dents where they fell. The ring called to him, to be used, but it was no use against this new foe. Hiding behind a pillar, he breathed fast. He was tired. He wanted his home. 

Dol Goldur was a place filled with nothing but bad things. If asked about it, the elven princess would even curse, and she never allowed bad words to leave her mouth. It had taken her dear sister, it had scarred her nephew, it was the core of all evil... and now, it had taken her friend. Gandalf the Grey, layed down on the cold floor of a cage, apparently dead. Had she been there, that wouyld be the image that would join her nephews scared eyes and her brother's angry ones.

The Grey appeared lifeless. The cage was suspended over the esge of the south tower of the fortress, about to fall at anytime. His eyes, his beautiful, wise eyes stared ahead, unblinking and unseeing. His body was bruised and battered, his hair was matted with both sweat and blood. They had killed his friend in front of him and they tortured him after.

"A darkness is coming...", continued the dragon, his voice filled with menace and dark promisses, "it will spread to every corner of the land."

Seemingly dead blue eyes blinked back to life. Mithrandir lived! Slowly turning his head, the wizard stared down into the dark depths of the ruined fortress. The sighy below made him shake from his core, and horror was written across his expression. A fiery torchlight flickered, and it revealed rank after rank of armoured Gudabad Orcs. Huge, troll-like cretaures made the ground tremble as they walked behind the legions... disappearing into the darkness.

Bolg, the son of the Defiler whom the princess had cursed so many times, stealthily crept over the roofs of laketown, closely followed by a hunter orc pack. As if sensing something, their leader stopped.

"Shûgi Khozd-shrakhun hum. Nuzdidiz*...", the disgusting teeth of the creature that followed him grinned and nodded. They would have blood. 

Inside the mountain, Smaug spoke, and Bilbo listened, very still behind a pillar.

"You are being used, Thief in the Shadows", no, he wasn't, the Company had many opportunities to leave him behind, and when he pursued them once again, they welcomed him, "You were only ever a means to an end. The coward Oakenshield has weighed the value of your life and found it worth nothing", Thorin was many things, but he was not a bad person. He was a brute, a strict person, but he was not the kind of person to throw Bilbo into danger without trusting him to return... Or was he?

"No, no...", his red locks shook along his head, "You're lying", the dragon messed with his head so he would turn against his friends!

"What did he promised you? A share of the treasure - as if it was his to give!", but it was, it sill is! And it was his father's before that, and his grandfather's! Smaug had been the one to steal it, he- "I will not part with a single coin, not one piece of it", and his eyes caught it once again, the Arkenstone. The proof the dragon was King, and his was not friend, Thorin did not have his right without the stone.

Bilbo raced towards it, but the dragon was fast despite his large body, treasure erupted in all directions, and with it, the jewel disappeared. Frustrated, the hobbit closed his fists and glared at all the gold and, discreetly, at the dragon.

"My teeth are swords! My claws are spears! My wings are a hurricane!", how full of himself he was! And still, he needed that much gold? 

Flexing his wings, the beast raised in his haunches, and Bilbo could not help it. Despite his terrible existence, Smaug truly was magnificent. But alas, he too had a defect. Looking closely, he found it. Under one wing, the dragon had a bare patch of skin. 

"So it is true. The black arrow found it's mark", whispered the ginger, still in awe.

"What did you say?", growled the red creature.

"I was just saying your reputation precedes you, O Smaug the Tyrannical, truly you have no equal on this earth!", he quickly covered his mistake using flaterry once more. He saw the golden eyes fall to the floor, near Bilbo. Following the other's gaze, he found it once again, the Arkenstone. 

"I am almost tempted to let you take it, if only to see Oakenshield suffer", the dragon laughed softly, "Watch it destroy him, watch it corrupt his heart and drive him mad", listening carefully, the hobbit scrunched up his nose and his eyebrows got heavy, "But I think not... I think our little game ends here", his whole body went rigid, and he began stepping back, slowly, "so tell me, Thief, how do you choose to die?", he had reached into his pocket, and quickly used the ring.

He disappeared and Smaug let his anger out. Roaring and swatting at the spot Bilbo had just been standing at, he blasted the hall with flames. The darkness there disappeared, and what would look like a true spectacle, made Bilbo run and pant. 

"Bilbo", his head shot up and his eyes met the elf's, "Are you alright?", he looked down. No one had asked him that yet.

"I am, it's just...", he sighed and had been about to give her a speech about how he was just tired, but he decided to huff instead, "you know what? No, I am not", he looked at her and glared and she gave him a smile, "I am tired, hungry and I just want this to be over!", the elf nodded, and he kept going, "but no! We must go further, and we must conquer something impossible! And you know whose fault it is?", she raised an eyebrow, "my blasted Took genes!", her eyes widened, "how come I am not at home!? Do you understand the amount of dust that must've pilled up by now!? I consider myself lucky that those-those...", she slowly put the water filled bucket down, "those brutes have completely ended my pantry!", when his foot hit the ground as if he were a child, she walked closer to him, "I don't want to be here, I don't want to see them hurt! I...", her hands touched his and he whimpered, "I don't want to die...", she gave him a gentle smile and caressed his cheeks.

"My dear, little friend", his shoulder shook and she went down to one knee to bring him into a much needed hug, "what you feel is all true and it is natural", a sob was heard and she smiled, "you have all the right to feel angry, Bilbo, your routine has changed. Your life is not what it was, not even close to it", he shook his head.

"They have nothing! Th-they don't even have their home!", she chuckled softly and began cleaning his tears that would not stop.

"No, they don't have their home...", he nodded and she smiled, "but those blasted Took genes will help them have it back", their eyes met and she stood up, "we are in this because fate found it adequate", she picked up the bucket and cracked her neck, "and we will finish it, grandly. With, or without Erebor, for we will all remain alive."

Gold coins dislodged as an invisible Bilbo ran across the floor of a cavern and upstairs into a narrow tunnel. Smaug, whose head could fit in the tunnel, snapped his jaws as his elongated neck appeared in through the opening. The hobbit ran up the stairs, ducked behind a wall and pulled the ring off. Staring at the gold piece, his face drenched in sweat, his breathing fast, he came to the conslusion he did not like using the ring.

The dragon, red and angry and filled with nothing but fury, roared and the sound echoed through the tunnels and the halls. The very foundations of the Mountain seemed to shake. Smaug searched for the thief, no where to be found. Growling, his eyes looked everywhere.

In Laketown, Braga and his guards laughed and drank. Bard's eyes slowly opened and looked around. He was laying down on the cold, hard floor og a cell. A low rumble coming form the Mountain made his stare in horror at it. He knew what was about to happen. 

The towns-folk began emerging from their homes, looking as fire-light flickered above the highest peak. Bofur ducked past them, his mission of finding the herbs not yet completed. Desperately looking around, a large pig chewing on a wad of plants made him stop. His hand reached in, ripped the plants right from the pig's mouth and he bolted towards bard's home where Kili suffered.

While he had escaped from the people's eyes, Bolg's had catched him easily. A glint of quiet triumph in his eyes, and a gesture of his head, was all that his hunters needed to follow after the dwarf.

Sigrid stood on the balcony, peering through the darkness for any sign of the saviour dwarf that would bring the herbs. The tears leaving the woman's eyes and the ucomfortable groans of the one laying down made her look for their, aparently, only hope. Little Tilda was inside, by their side, at the ready if anything was needed. No sight of Bofur made her turn around to go back inside, but before she could retreat into her home, a hunter orc dropped from the roof. Her eyes followed the moviment of the ugly creature falling down, her mouth opened and a loud scream was heard.

Mäetharanel stiffened inside the house, and quickly stood up. Hunter orcs began swarming up the walls and across the roof of Bard's home. Bofur, about to reach his destination, was intercepted by Fimbul, Bolg's right-hand man. But he would not go down easily. Fighting the orc bravely, he swung a fist, but it meant nothing to the other, who was better armed and slashed at the dwarf.

Fili had the elf behind him, his weapon ready. If the orcs meant to kill, so did he. Slashing and thrusting his sword at whoever went close to the elf, he shouted in angry kuzhdul. Mäeth, who would not keep still in the face of danger, was about to grab her weapon, but her child kicking her ribs made her think otherwise. The babe had been active lately, but of course they would be. Their mother decided to keep going on a quest that could end both of them, after all. Glaring at the foul creatures, she gasped when Kili began standing up and meant to grab into him, but Fili's grip on her arm was too strong.

"Let me go!", an orc slashed at her, and she quickly got away, "Bain! Grab Kili, quickly!", he looked between the dwarf and his sisters, who had also been helping by throwing anything their hands could touch, but he could not leave them. 

Finally being released from the golden prince's hard grip, the elf quickly moved and grabbed Kili's weak body after he thrust his weapon into the stomach of a orc. Quickly whispering to him, and caressing his face, she sat him down.

"Mäeth-", Tilda yelled, but she had felt the presence of the orcs right behind her.

Quickly beheading the hideous creature, she grabbed another sword, and glared. Kili grabbed the table and had been about to stand up, but his mouth opened with the anger Mäetharanel stabbed at whoever approached them. Three orcs circled them, and she glared and squared her shoulders, ready to fight them off, when an arrow went through one of them. Quickly analysing the tip of the arrow her shoulders relaxed and she let herself relax. Legolas and Tauriel arrived, immediatly attacking the orcs with elvish skill and ruthlessness.

"Ekinskeld obguranid!*", shouted Fimbul, who had fled the combat and leaped from Bard's balcony, landing in a small fishing boat. 

"Gur - arangim!"*, Bolg had received the news fromt he shadows of a landing across the water. Eyes filled with furry, he ordered the command to the remaining orcs. 

Legolas crossed eyes with his aunt for a second before she leaned forward and grabbed her side, obviously in pain. The bastards had hurt his aunt? With new found rage, the prince threw a dead orc over the balcony, right into the boat Fimbul had been standing on. The weight made the orc hurtle into the air, into the perfect height for Legolas to decapitate him with one swift move of his sharp, elvish sword.

He watched as the orcs fled into the night before returning inside, where he helped Tauriel end the other hunters. Bain, Sigrid and Tilda watched the violence before them with some amazement. Mäetharanel had made it to them and stood behind the siblings and watched too, with so much pride she feared it would be too much. Her boy was so elegant with a sword! Oh, and however had Tauriel managed to flow so well with him, in battle?

"You killed them all", said Bain, his eyes wide, his mouth open in wonder.

"Not all, there are others", he walked towards his aunt and inspected her, "have they hurt you?", she shook her head and touched the back of his armed hands.

"Legolas, you must return to your father", his eyes got gentle and he shook his head, "Le-", she hissed and touched her lower back.

"What hails you?", she felt Tauriel's eyes on her, assessing her condition much too fast for her liking.

"Nothing but your imprudence in coming with Tauriel alone, to fight Bolg", she glared at him, who glared at Fili that begaan rubbing her lower back, "You must promise me: you will be cautious", he smiled, caressed her face with the back of his hand, turned around and walked towards the door.

"Tauriel, come", but her eyes had moved from the Queen to the suffering Prince.

Kili's breathing was ragged, dark veins of black poison ran beneath the skin of his face. Oin held his wrist, sitting by his side, on the floor. When the healer looked up at the silvan elf, she felt so powerless.

"We are losing him", his voice, anxious and hurried made Mäetharanel turn around and walk as fast as she could to her boy.

"No, no...", the brunette took Kili's other hand and winced at how cold he felt, "Kili? Kili, it's Mäeth", his eyes were almost closed, she could not let him close his eyes, "Do you hear me, sweet boy? You can't close your eyes, please", he tried looking at her, but it hurt. Everything hurt, each movement was a strain on him.

"Tauriel!", called the blonde, elvish prince. His anger was not only due to his friends apparently deaf ears. He understood that due tot he bond she shared with Oakenshield, his aunt would grow close to his family. But to call the dwarf 'sweet boy'? He looked forward, furious.

The winters were particularly harsh between the tall tress of the Wood Realm. Legolas, grown and with his hair in a high ponytail returned from patrol along with his squad. No matter how cold the weather would get, the pests that lived in their woods would not stop appearing. Sighing, he held the coat his grandfather had gifted him. 

"Suil, hwion*", his aunt waited for him at the gates, a smile warm enough to lift the cold he felt and hands as soft as the best silk one could find.

"Annad*, aunt", she immediatly began fussing over him, closing each button in the coat and looking over his men.

"Legolas, my sweet boy", her hands touched his very cold face and she gasped, "Valar be good- all of you, inside", she began leading them towards the palace, her nephew chuckling and shaking his head, his men laughing, "We cannot allow you to fall sick!", and then, in whispers that only him should hear, "With your father's temper, war is at our doorstep everyday!"

He returned to the present when a hand touched his arm. Looking towards his aunt he tried finding it, once more. The reason why she kept on pursuing such risks for a race that hated their own. 

"What keeps you with them?", asked Legolas, green eyes searching for something in her own, "What is it? What has taken you from me?"

"Nothing can take me from you, Legolas, never", the saddness in her eyes made him feel even worse. Kissing her forehead, the Prince quickly took off after the spawn of the Defiler. 

Tauriel had been about to follow him, but she stopped to look back at Kili, sweating and accepting his fate. Bofur ran up the stairs, past Mäetharanel who was certainly still looking at her retreating nephew, kingsfoil in hand. The other elf's presence made him stop, and so did she, but not due to his appearence. The weed in his hands... she took it form him as if it was the most prescious herb in the world.

"Athelas...", whispered the woman, handling the herbs and crushing them between her fingers.

"What are you doing?", Bofur reacted when she began turning the Kingsfoil to paste.

"I'm going to save him", the elf spoke softly and with sad, hopeful eyes. The Queen looked up at her and her gaze filled with tears.

"Please, Tauriel, please", her blue eyes met with the others and she sniffed, "Help my boy... I can't, I...", Fili looked up at the woman while reaching for Mäetharanel's arm to bring her closer to him.

*The dwarf-rats are here somewhere... I can smell them.

*Oakenshield has gone!

*Fall back - regroup at the bridge!

*Welcome, nephew

*Thank you

Chapter Text

Thorin had just arrived at the end of a wide corridor when his feet could not keep on walking. His breath, caught in his throat, simply could not leave as he stared in in wonder at the golden ambient light that flooded the lower chamber. Bilbo, dishevelled and scorched, tumbled into the room. Thorin's eyes widen, and he returns.

"You're alive!", the hobbit took a deep breath.

"Not for much longer-", but the dwarf did not care for what he had been about to say.

"Did you find The Arkenstone?", his eyes held obcession. He had only ever seen him look like that when whispering to their elf.

"The Dragon is coming-", said the red-head, breathless.

"The Arkenstone", there was an urgency to his voice, one the Baggins did not like ,"did you find it?", he stared intently at Bilbo.

"We have to get out", he began moving to leave, but Thorin's sword blocked his path, and he froze. 

They were no longer alone. Smaug emerged from within the great hall. When the dragon's gaze fell on Thorin, they began battling with their stares, first. They were, after all, old foes, and Smaug did not believe him brave enough to come barge into his Mountain. Thorin turns to fully glare at the dragon, right into the face of his usurper. Their stare-off was broken by a sudden cry from above.

Balin, Dwalin, Bifur, Bombur, Gloin, Nori, Dori and Ori tumbled down the stars into the chamber! Smaug reared up, preparing to blast a wall of flames in their direction. But they came to an abrupt stop, truned and ran.

"You will burn!", yelled the dragon in rage.

"Run! Back the way you came, go!", ordered their King.

The dwarves tried to run back towards the passage to the hidden door, but Smaug lashed out, sending masonry tumbling down, blocking the exit. They stared at it, breathless and with panic growing until their hobbit called out.

"Here! Come! This way, this way!", and he lead them down a passage. Thorin followed at the rear but was caught by a blast of flame. His outer coat catched on fire, and he quickly droped to the ground, rolling over, smothering the flames.

"Keep moving!", he yelled. Meanwhile, Smaug blasted flames triumphantly. 

In Bard's house, Tauriel hurriedly crushed the athelas leaves into a bowl of steaming water. Bofur, Oin and Fili lifted a screaming Kili on to the table. When his face contorted in pain, Mäetharanel caressed it and whispered to him. Her shaking fingers went through the black, poison filled, visible veins of the dwarf.

"Hold him down", ordered the other elf and the Queen sniffed and stepped back to let her work. Tilda held her hand, gently.

Kili convulsed as his brother, Oin, Bofur, Sigrid and even little Tilda, attempted to hold him down on the table. Tauriel stared at the wound, shock flickering across her face for a brief second as she took in the gravity of it. Crushing the athelas, she applied it to the wound. Softly, she began an ancient incantation. One the older elf recognized as a spell of healing.

"Menno o nin na hon i eliad annen annin; hon leitho o-ngurth*", Kili, through his fever, stares at her. A white light seemed to surround her... She called to him, wanting him to return to them.

Mäetharanel watched, with tears in her eyes and hope in her heart, as light surrounded Tauriel and Kili's eyes focused on it.

Thorin leaned around a corner, the others waiting warily behind him. Silence echoed through the halls. Even their breaths were quiet.

"We've given him the slip", whispered Dori.

"No... He's too cunning for that", Dwalin whispered back.

"Where to now?", asked Bilbo, as quiet as the others.

"The Western Guardroom, there may be a way out...", said Thorin, quietly.

"It's too high... there's no chance that way", answered Balin, while shaking his head

"It's our only chance, we have to try", the King tried to give them hope where Balin saw none.

Thorin gestured for them to move quietly, and they crept silently across a narrow bridge. Smaug was no where to be seen. Bilbo, still very much shaken with his encounter witht he dragon, looked around warily as he too, walked along with the others. He saw nothing. 

Thorin reached the other side, silent as a mouse, until a single coin fell on the floor before the hobbit. The dwarves froze and looked up, as the body of the dragon slithered silently above them. The King signaled for all of them to quietly hurry across and follow him, and so they did.

In Laketown, Tauriel quietly tied off a bandage around Kili's wound. Oin and Fili watched from a distance, their elf behind them, seated on a sofa.

"I've heard tell of the wonders of Elvish medicine... that was a privilege to behold", Mäeth nodded and leaned against the sofa, discreetly caressing her stomach.

"Tauriel shows promise when it comes to healing", Oin nodded, still watching as she bandaged the other dwarf, "Skilfull with both sword and bow too... a complete warrior", Kili's eyes flickering open made her lean forward, antecipating what the youngest member of the Company would say.

"Tauriel?", sounded his weak voice.

"Lie still", the command of the elf was heard, but he was not there, not completely.

"You cannot be her...", Tauriel stopped bandaging Kili's leg for a second while he spoke, "She is far away, she is far, far away from me. She walks in starlight in another world", the fever made him drift between reality and what he wanted, almost as if, "It was just a dream...", the long haired elf showed no emotion, "Do you think she could have loved me?", as she received the question, Kili's hand touched hers.

The Queen stiffened at the words and slowly turned her gaze to Tauriel. The elf let her nephew touch her hand and her blue eyes smiled before her lips. Another tale like hers. A tale doomed to end terribly, too.

When Thorin lead them through a wide passage, Bilbo tried to stop his running thoughts. They were running from a dragon. A dragon he had pratically entertained moments ago. They suddenly stopped, and stared ahead. The exit that was supposed to take them somewhere was blocked.

"That's that then... there's no way out", Dwalin looked at it, grim and upset.

But they were not alone. Thorin could not stop feeling the tense atmosphere that the corpses, now mummified, let out. They filled the passafe before the collapsed rubble, to forever remain in the positions they suffocated two centuries before...

"The last of our kin", Balin's eyes filled with unshed tears, "they must have come here... hoping beyond hope", what certainly were parents held little children, protectivelt. Soldiers, who should have been clawing at the collapsed rock had leaned into it, their arms up, and there were dwarves reaching for their loved ones, "we could try to reach the mines, we might last a few days."

"No. I will not die like this... cowering, clawing for breath", the true King Under the Mountain turned to them, his face set with grim determination, "we make for the forges", he would not perish there, not when his Queen waited for their kingdom. Not when Kili could already be... his nephew could no longer be alive.

"He'll see us, sure as death", Dwalin walked towards him, and their eyes met.

"Not if we split up", that bloody slug would not keep his gold.

"Thorin, we'll never make it", Balin shook his head.

"Some of us might. Lead him to the forges", some of them was better than none, so he delivered the plan, "we kill the dragon or we die trying... If this is to end in fire, then we will all burn together!", burn... the contract did mencion insineration...

Bilbo had stayed with Thorin and Balin. In that precise moment, they had been behind an arch and hurried across a bridge. Smaug, always alert and anxious to protect what he had taken, immediately powered into the hall, like a cat hunting for mice.

"Flee, flee... run for your lives! There is nowhere to hide", his voice thundered all around the dwarves and the hobbit.

Dori, Ori and Bombur appeared on one of the many balconies, and the dragon spun to their direction. Bifur and Gloin ran across a different bridge than the one te King and the other two had gone through. Finally, Nori and Dwalin shoot out of a doorway. Bifur and Gloin raced through a narrow coal seam, too low for the beast to enter, so he made fire go after them.

The coals began heating up as the fire spread through them and right under their feet. They reached the edge of the seam and leaped into old mine buckets, suspended from a cable, into safety.

Looking at his aunt one last time, Legolas raced out of Bard's house. That was definitely his father... Vilissë would have never ran into battle like that. Her sister always liked to surprise the enemy. But Thranduil? He'd run into fight head on, in the front of the army. 

Bolg walked towards his minions with an ugly frown. Where had the dwarf gone to!? His father gave him a mission, no, his father gave him a way to ease the bloodthirst that consumed him. He would quench it. Striding towards the others, he ordered them.

"Zidgar Goldur-nar! Ekinskeld Erebor-nar nakhân!*", but the screams of orcs being killed by the Woodland Realm prince made him frown, before an arrested expression fell across his features, "GUR!*", yelled their leader and the warg pack raced out of town, "Abguriz!*"

Legolas rounded a corner and came face to face with the tall orc. Their eyes met and their weapons spoke. A fight began between them. A fight for the people of Laketown, a fight for Legolas' aunt, a fight for Bolg's father. The orc fled, leaving two other orcs to kill the blonde elf. However, their lives were the ones that ended. Quickly looking around, the prince sprang on to a horse and raced after the orcs and their leader.

Their home had turned into a battlefield. And the battle that happened in it was anything but fair. After all, they were only dwarves, with a hobbit. Thorin, Balin and Bilbo ran down a passage, when Smaug suddenly appeared behind them. Spotting a stairway, the white haired dwarf called to the other two, who raced ahead.

"This way, it's quicker! Thorin!", hearing Balin, the King turned just in time to see Smaug bearing down upon them. He had no time to reach the stairs, but...

"Follow Balin - do as I say!", he ordered Bilbo, who hesitated before fulfilling the order.

Bilbo ran after Balin as Thorin headed in the other direction, towards a gaping mine shaft. Smaug was almost on him, when the dwarf suddenly leaped into the air, falling into the mine shaft and catching a thick pulley rope. Thorin plummeted down, the dragon's enormous jaws snatching at him. Leaping out of the mine shaft, their leader grasped Nori's hand. Dwalin was there too, waiting for him. 

"Thorin! The plan's not going to work. These furnaces are stone cold!", said his cousin, angry and almost desperate.

"Have we not?", asked Thorin, grimly. Standing at the edge of the mine shaft, he held into the mine shaft and called down into it, "I did not look to see you so easily outwitted! You've grown slow and fat in your dotage, Slug!", a low rumble of gathering fury sounded within the red dragon as he clawed himself with frightening speed up towards the forges, "TAKE COVER!!", Thorin turned towards the others and yelled.

They managed to get behind the pillars just as the dragno raked the area with flammes. The forges, once asleep due to their masters being gone, roared back to life, ignited by the fire that meant to kill the dwarves and the hobbit. The gold that was solidified began to quickly melt in the heat they created. The King Under the Mountain turned to Bombur and ordered.

"Get those bellows working! Go!", rapidly issuing orders, he pointed Bilbo towards a heavy lever, high up a narrow staircase, "Bilbo, up there! On my mark, pull that lever, do you understand?", their eyes met briefly, and the little one saw hope in them, hope to regain his home and make their enemy leave, "Balin! Can you still mix a flash-flame?", the dwarf smiled and nodded.

"Aye, it'll only take a jiffy", his brother looked at the approaching dragon and shook his head.

"We don't have a jiffy", quickly looking around, the brothers began working.

Bombur leaped at a chain, easily activating the giant bellows, flame and cinders blasted into Smaug's face. Bilbo reached the lever just as the usurper's fury unleashed. He began smashing through the arches into the forges, and Thorin barely managed to get away. 

"Now!", yeleld their leader, and Bilbo hauled the lever down.

Huge sluices opened, releasing a torrent of water into wooden shutes. The line of mine buckets that hanged above began moving. Dwalin and Nori swung hammers at wooden posts supporting the cutes, send the water straight into the fire breathing monster. The cold water smashed into the giant body and it arched in pain, steam spitted from his hide... Smaug thrashed widely.

Ori and Dwalin race away, throwing the flash-flame bombs the brothers had successfully made. They exploded agasint the foe with a blinding smash. Turning towards the dwarves, he missed the mine buckets moving swiftly above him.

Bifur and Gloin appeared, perched in the buckets above the red fury. Gloin leaped up, hacking at the ropes o the bucket train next to theirs. The chain mine bucket dropped onto Smaug - the heavy, ore filled buckets were heavy enough to take his enormous presence down with them.

Thorin pulled a mmassive lever, one that made molten gold stream into catchments. As he watched the molten gold pour into a wide channel carved into the floor, he could not help but remember a much different time, when he himself was a different dwarf. The gold flowed towards a tunnel in one of the walls.

Bifur stood up and chopped the rope that held his mine bucket train, making another line of heavy buckets fall on Smaug. Him and Gloin swung down like a pendulum, clinging to their buckets for their life depended on them.

"Lead him to the Gallery of the Kings!", spinning widely, the dragon sent buckets flying like missiles. The dwarves watched as they hit winches and levers, activating huge waterwheels. 

The dwarves machinery, rusty due to not being used, groanned into life. Bilbo ducked a flying bucket, but the staircase he stoon on could not. Rolling onto the floor, he braced himself. Thorin took hiss chance and raced under the one that created desolation and pain. Grabbing a wooden wheel bbarrow, he threw it into the flow of molten gold and leaped  in after it. Landing on the barrow, he ducked and disappeared into the tunnel.

"Keep going Bilbo - run!", and he did, just in time to not be catched by the flames of the dragon.

Bilbo stumbled through the narrow tunnel of the Lonely Mountain, Smaug's snarling breath echoing so close behind that it seemed to scorch the very air. He burst into a long, high hall draped with massive tapestries that swayed ominously from the walls.

With a deafening crash, the dragon tore through the stone behind him, and the force of it sent the tapestries tumbling down. Bilbo was smothered beneath the heavy fabric, gasping for air as Smaug's massive claws stamped across it. From beneath the folds, he peered out, heart hammering, watching the monstrous head swing from side to side, searching.

"You think you can deceive me, Barrel-rider?" Smaug's voice was a hiss that shook the walls. "You have come from Lake-town!", Bilbo froze, horror creeping over him at the dragon's words.

"This is some sordid scheme, hatched between filthy Dwarves and those miserable tub-trading Lake-men," Smaug continued, his voice rising in fury. "Cowards, with their long bows and black arrows...", Bilbo's breath caught. Realisation struck him with sickening weight. Lake-town... Mäetharanel, Kíli, the others... they're still there.

"Oh no," he whispered. Then louder, desperate, "Wait! You cannot go to Lake-town!", the dragon turned, his eyes narrowing on the trembling hobbit. 

"Oh, so you care about them, do you? Good. Then you can watch them die", before Bilbo could speak again, another voice rang out, fierce and defiant.

"I am here... you witless worm!", at the far end of the hall, Thorin stood high upon the clay mold, molten gold pouring into the channel beside him. His eyes burned with fury.

"You!" Smaug roared, turning toward the Dwarf.

Thorin's voice cut like steel. "I am taking back what you stole!"

The dragon advanced, his scales shimmering in the molten glow. "You will take nothing from me, Dwarf! I laid low the warriors of old. I am King Under the Mountain!"

"This is not your kingdom," Thorin shouted back. "These are Dwarf lands, Dwarf gold! And we will have our revenge! Igritu zû*!"

Chains rattled as the company of Dwarves hauled with all their strength, releasing the iron bands. The mold cracked and split, crumbling in colossal slabs. And then, out of the ruin, rose a golden colossus: a towering statue of Thrór, eighty feet high, gleaming with molten brilliance.

For a single heartbeat, it stood resplendent. Then, with a thunderous crack, the statue collapsed, spilling a torrent of molten gold over the dragon. Smaug shrieked as the burning metal clung to his scales, searing him, smoke and steam rising in clouds.

"Revenge?!" he roared. "I will show you revenge!"

With an explosion of fire and fury, Smaug surged forward, blasting past Bilbo, smashing through the end of the cavern.

Outside, the mountain shuddered as the great gate shattered beneath the dragon's force. He erupted into the night sky, wings flaring wide, molten gold dripping from them like burning rain. He soared upward, raking the valley with liquid fire. The waters below boiled in whistling steam.

From afar, the people of Lake-town stared in horror as the explosion of light tore across the night sky. In the gaol, Bard leapt to his feet, shouting through the iron bars. 

"Braga! Listen to me, do you not know what is coming?", above, through the darkness, the terrible shape of the dragon spread its wings.

"I am fire," Smaug's voice echoed across the land. "I am death."

Bilbo scrambled through the shattered opening of the mountain, stumbling into the cold night. He stared upward, his heart hollow with dread, watching as Smaug's vast form soared toward the distant lights of Lake-town.

"What have we done?" he whispered.

*What grace is given to me, let it pass to him; let him be spared.

*Send word to Dol Guldur! Oakensheild has reached the Mountain.

*Go!

*You come with me!

*Let him have it!

Chapter Text

Bells rang out in Lake-town, their frantic toll echoing across the dark waters. In the distance, the Lonely Mountain loomed, ominous and silent no longer. Panic spread through the streets as townsfolk rushed to the canals, shoving boats into the water, loading them with whatever possessions they could carry. Fear gripped every face.

Inside his lavish house, the Master of Lake-town barked orders, his soldiers, and servants staggering under the weight of chests filled with gold and valuables.

"I warned you!" he thundered. "Did I not warn you what would come of dealing with dwarves? And now look! They've woken the dragon, they've brought the apocalypse upon our heads! Quickly, move, move!"

With a flourish, he pulled at a candlestick. The wall shifted, and a secret panel swung open, revealing a hidden stairwell that led straight down to the canal. Waiting at the bottom: his private boat.

"Faster now!" the Master snapped, waving his hands as men scrambled to load his treasures. "Careful, men, careful with that! Never mind the books, get the gold! The town is lost—save the gold!"

Reluctantly, the guards obeyed. One tried to protest. "But sire... should we not help the townsfolk?"

"The town is lost!" the Master shouted, face red. "Save the gold!"

Outside, panic turned to screams. Tauriel lifted her gaze toward the mountain, her sharp Elven hearing already catching the sound of wing beats and the terrible growl rolling through the sky. A vast shadow swept overhead. Smaug had come.

She burst into Bard's house, urgency in every step. 

"We have no time. We must leave!", but Mäetharanel was already with the children on her hands and also giving orders. Looking at each other, they made a silent agreement: the people in that house would live.

"Up, lad, come on!", the dwarves scrambled to gather themselves. Bofur pulled Kili to his feet.

"I'm fine," Kili muttered, limping. "I can walk."

"As fast as you can," Tauriel urged.

"We're not leaving. Not without our father", Bain stood firm, clutching his sisters' hands.

"If you stay here," Tauriel said, her voice sharp with urgency, "your sisters will die. Is that what your father would want?"

"Bain, listen to me, child", the Queen grabbed his face and made him meet her eyes, "your father has entrusted this house to you, but before everything, is the life of your sisters and your own. Your mother will go with you to wherever you go, trust me", his eyes shook, looking for something on her own, "come with us, please", her pleading eyes showed him what he needed, "come, Tilda, Sigrid. Let's go my girls...", Bain himself lead his sisters out. 

In the prison, Bard clutched the iron bars of his cell, shouting until his throat ached. 

"Open the door! Do you hear me? Open it!" But the guards had long fled. 

His words died in his mouth as he looked up and saw Smaug circling high above the town. Panic surged. He threw himself against the lock, then spun toward the window over the canal, searching for another way out.

Behind the house, Tauriel and the others loaded into a small boat. 

"Quickly now!", she called. 

"Come on, brother!", Fili reached for Kili's hand.

They pushed off, poling frantically through the ice-flecked water. Overhead, Smaug descended, the beat of his wings scattering screams below. He drew in a deep, glowing breath and released it in a searing line of fire that cut across the town. Houses exploded into flame. People screamed and fell, some vanishing beneath the water, ablaze.

Had it not been for the child she carried, Queen Mäetharanel would endanger herself and grab anything that might slow down the destruction the beast brought to a town filled with civilians that had nothing but themselves to fight with. Her eyes followed it, the beautiful, deadly dragon, so much like the ones she had fought before... 

Kili's fast and short breaths made her return. She bent down and gently held his and Fili's hands. Despair would not take her, and it would not take her loved ones. 

Bard beat at his cell with a pail, but the bars held firm. Smoke and fire lit the night sky. He tore strips from his blanket, mind racing with desperate purpose.

Through the canals, the Master's boat surged forward, piled high with gold. 

"Faster! Faster!" he shrieked at his oarsmen, face gleaming with sweat and greed, "If only we could take more of these poor people with us," he said piously.

"They're hardly worth it," Alfrid sneered, and they shared a laugh.

A drowning man tried to climb aboard. Alfrid kicked him savagely back into the water. As their overloaded boat collided with Tauriel's, treasure spilled into the canal. 

"My gold!" the Master wailed. "Save it! Save my gold!"

"We're carrying too much weight," Alfrid warned, "We'll have to dump something."

"You're right," the Master said smoothly, before shoving Alfrid overboard. Mäetharanel smirked. 

At that moment, Bard's rope that he had thrown grabbed the Master, dragging tight around his throat. He gagged and struggled, clawing at it, even as Bard's prison wall cracked apart with the force. The bars snapped free, and Bard tumbled out into the guardroom. 

Grabbing his bow and quiver, he smashed through a window, clambering out onto the rooftops. The dragon's shadow swept over him as he ran toward the bell tower, the highest point in the town. Above, Smaug wheeled, flames consuming the city in terrible swaths.

From the Lonely Mountain, Thorin and his company watched the glow spreading across the lake.

"Poor souls", Balin murmured.

But Bilbo noticed Thorin was not watching the town at all. His gaze was fixed back on the vast, dark halls of Erebor. A strange light burned in his eyes.

Meanwhile, Bard scrambled up the tower steps. Reaching the top, he loosed arrow after arrow at the oncoming dragon, but they bounced harmlessly off Smaug's scales. The bell boomed overhead, disorienting him, until he cut its rope with his dagger, silencing it. Still, his arrows could do nothing.

"Da!" Bain's voice rang out from below. 

"Bain, don't! Come-", the boy had leapt from the boat, desperate, and now clutched the Black Arrow he had hidden for his father. The monarch reached for him, but could not catch him.

Against Tauriel and Mäetharanel's cries, he raced through the burning town, climbing until he reached the tower.

"Bain?!" Bard gasped in horror, "What are you doing? You were supposed to leave!"

"I came to help you," Bain said, holding out the Black Arrow. Bard's hands shook as he grasped it. 

"Nothing can stop him now," he whispered.

"This might," Bain insisted and showed him the arrow.

Before Bard could answer, Smaug struck the tower, shaking it to its foundations. Bard shielded Bain, hauling him upright. Below, the dragon landed, crushing homes with his weight.

"Who are you," Smaug hissed, molten fire dripping from his jaws, "that would stand against me?"

Bard's bow lay broken. Desperation clawed at him. He braced the bow halves against the tower itself, string taut between them, and rested the Black Arrow on Bain's shoulder. The boy trembled, but stood firm as his father levelled the weapon.

"What is he doing?", Oin squinted his eyes and Mäetharanel held his hand, tight, "Is he using his boy to direct the arrow?"

"He is, he is", Fili began rubbing her back and when his hand reached to the front to grasp her hand, she clutched his instead, "Oh, Bain!"

"Mäeth, stay calm, he is skilled, he", Kili huffed, "he won't let anything happen to Bain...", her eyes turned to look at Bofur, sitting by the younger heir's side and he nodded.

"Stay still, son," Bard whispered.

"You have nothing left... but your death!", Smaug advanced, eyes blazing.

Bard's gaze flicked to the dragon's chest. There, a missing scale, the wound left long ago by Girion of Dale. His chance.

"Bain", Bard said softly. "Look at me. Not at him. At me", the boy obeyed. Bard drew back the arrow, muscles straining, heart hammering.

"A little to your left," he murmured. Bain shifted, aligning the arrow perfectly with the bare patch of Smaug's chest.

"That's it", she saw it before he did it. She did not even see him. No...

His hair turned blonde and long, much curly. Is stance got more elegant and his shoulders were not so large. Vilissë... she also had that confident, calm look before shooting the arrows, she also held her breath as it flew, and she also waited before accessing the damage it had made, even when others celebrated.

He let go. The Black Arrow flew, shrieking through the air, and struck true. It buried itself to the fletching in Smaug's heart. And both Tauriel and the other brunette breathed again.

The dragon screamed, a sound of pain and fury that shook the lake. He staggered upward, wings beating wildly, flames bursting uncontrolled from his jaws. Then his strength failed. With one last wheezing gasp, Smaug plummeted from the sky and crashed into Lake-town, crushing the Master's boat beneath him as he died.

The impact thundered across the valley. On the mountain, the dwarves started in shock.

"What was that?" Balin gasped.

"It fell... I saw it. Smaug is dead!", Bilbo's eyes widened.

The others rushed to the parapet, staring in wonder as ravens wheeled above the mountain.

"Aye," said Balin. "Word will spread. The dragon is dead!"

Their laughter rang out. But Thorin did not laugh. He stood apart, his eyes alight, not with joy for the people of Lake-town, but with the promise of his kingdom, his gold. No, theirs. His and his Queen's, who had to return home, to him.