Legolas knew of the dwarfs his father had imprisoned, knew of the story that their leader had given. He knew of the history between elves and dwarfs (for his father had been in Doriath when Thingol was murdered and so it was a tale he'd been told since he was young) and knew that thrice Thorin's company had invaded upon their merrymaking which Legolas had been in attendance of to witness. The prince had no love of dwarfs and claimed he never would for what had happened between the two races despite having never actually met a dwarf.

Now on his way to the cells his father had most of them sent to, Thorin kept in another cell a fair distance away, Legolas carried a meal to one of the dwarfs who had requested it. He detested the fact that he had been asked to take care of this duty, dressed and armed to go into the forest with a group of his kin rather than the royal garb of the Elvenkings son. As he approached the cell, he took a glance in before unbuckling his belt and setting his white knives aside. He'd not allow a dwarf to disarm him while doing him a mercy. That his father wasn't starving them or treating them truly as prisoners after their transgressions was a miracle. Pulling the key from the string around his neck, he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

And inside, the dwarf lay huddled near the far wall as though hurt or ill. As much as Legolas was loath to worry, his father had made efforts to see them remain strong and healthy. And though he knew that such a trick was often employed by prisoners, he could not afford to leave him if he was ill. Dwarfs were not so resilient to illness as elves. A quick glance back to ensure his blades were a proper distance away, he set the tray down and approached the dwarf. Kneeling down, he placed a fair hand on his shoulder, only to have it grabbed in a firm grip by the bald and tattooed dwarf, by Dwalin. He was one of the stronger elves by far and though elves were strong, he could not break his grip.

"Thought you elves were smarter'n that?" Swearing at him in Sindarin, Legolas clenched his free hand into a fist and swung towards his face. A satisfying crack met his leaf-shaped ears and the grip loosened enough for him to pull his arm free and race towards the door. He need only slam it shut!

And yet he didn't make it. Hearty a dwarf, Dwalin had only suffered a moment of shock from the princes attack before regaining his bearings and grabbing his ankle to pull him to the ground. Swiftly, the dwarf was upon him and pressing a fist hard against the middle of Legolas' back to keep him from getting up. A thick and calloused hand searched him, more Sindarin curses coming from the elf until finally the dwarf yanked the key from his neck.

"This work for 'em all?" Legolas didn't answer, a cold glare coming from the princes blue eyes. An arm was grabbed and twisted, drawing out a pained groan from the elf. "I asked ye a question, laddie."

"Ci orch 'waur!" Legolas spat, voice as cold as his eyes in this moment, refusing to speak the common tongue, and again his arm was twisted, this time making him cry out. Voices call from the other cells, telling him to hurry or else a guard will come to find them. Dwalin was slow to comply but after a moment, he released his arm. Though it was sore, Legolas lashed out at the dwarf and received a kick across the jaw, leaving him dazed as and escape was performed. He could taste blood and he was dizzy but he dragged himself to his feet and stumbled to the doorway. Words failed him and he couldn't find his voice to yell for guards.

Before he realized what was happening, he was seated and pushed up against a wall. His own swords pressed against his throat as a threat for him not to move.

"We need to get to Thorin, quickly. Before they notice we're gone."

"They'll notice."

"We'll take the elf. The Elvenking won't place one of his subjects at risk for a group of prisoners."

"Bind his hands. Behind him."

The blades were removed and he was yanked forward, rough ropes wrapped almost too tightly around his wrists. Clarity suddenly found him and the elf struggled only to find the ropes tightening as a result. It seemed these dwarfs knew how to tie a rope, how to take prisoners. How typical! And now Dwalin kept watch over Legolas, briefly, while the dwarfs searched for their weaponry and armed themselves. They threw Legolas' weapons aside, carelessly, and pushed the elf forward, a rope drawn from his binds and in the hands of Dwalin. When he slowed, they pushed him forward and if he tried to move to swiftly they yanked him back. He felt as though he were some animal for their entertainment and when they came upon an inhabited hall, swords were drawn and threat placed upon Legolas. Curses were hurled in Dwarfish and Sindarin but none dared attack the party for most were quick to leave and alert the guards and their king.

They made their way to Thorin's cell and there stood another, shorter than the dwarfs and noticeably more nervous. For a moment, Legolas took satisfaction that Thorin's cell took a different key but it faded quickly as the short one produced that very key and he unlocked the door. Thorin's belongings were tossed to him and he sneered at the bound elf who promptly spat at him. Instantly, he regretted it as the dwarf king backhanded him.

"Lead us out, elf. And be quick else we cut your throat."

Legolas did not move but when a sword was drawn and placed upon his back he changed his mind. Leading them to the doors of Thranduil's Halls, they were met with two dozen guards. All who had bows and swords drawn. And there behind them but the Elvenking. Silently, Legolas pleaded for the forgiveness of his father with his eyes and only the faintest of nods was given, faint enough that only an elf would notice. His head fell then, a small bit of relief filling him in the knowledge that his father held no blame against him.

"These doors will only open at my command, Thorin."

"Then bid them open and be done with this!"

"You will release your prisoner first."

"No. We will release him when we are safely beyond the borders of this forest. And if you should interfere, I'll spill his blood."

Of course, Legolas' identity had not been revealed at this point and Legolas himself was making no effort to reveal it. Knowing they had the Elvenprince as their prisoner would be terrible. Thranduil barked an order in Sindarin and weapons were lowered. Another command in Sindarin and the doors opened behind them. No words were spoken but the dwarfs left together, forcing Legolas to follow as he hollered in Sindarin for help before the doors shut.

"Now lead us." Thorin commanded. Unarmed and amongst a group of dwarfs that obviously had little care of him, Legolas cursed his luck and wished that he'd found another to complete the task of feeding the prisoner so that he could have been spared this insult! Silently fuming, Legolas lead the way with silent footfalls in comparison to the loud stomps of dwarfs. Only the smallish one made an effort at silence. And he was beardless. Not a dwarf then, Legolas decided.

It would take a week for the company and Legolas to travel through what was left of Mirkwood safely and without encountering anything even remotely threatening. Normally, a week would be enough for the elves to march from the forest to Erebor but the dwarfs the quite paranoid about having an elf prisoner (though they daren't release him) that they wished to take longer routes and Legolas made them longer yet out of a desire to ensure whoever pursued them could catch up or get ahead.

The elf was practically tireless but the ache of his wrists from the ropes made him less eager to comply to how fast they wished to travel. Let them bark out demands at him, he replied in Sindarin with whatever nastiness he could think of and take satisfaction knowing that they couldn't understand him. If heard by elves, whispers would have been heard of how foul the prince speaks and how he must be influenced by the Second Born or other such nonsense.

Nights were chilly in Mirkwood for the dwarfs, the elf unbothered. They didn't dare start a fire in case there were elves following them but fear of the spiders caused them to make a small one to keep the creatures away. Legolas did not sleep and even if he did, one dwarf was always to be awake to watch him. They took turns during the night watching him but he was silent and made no effort to get up or do anything until they forced him to each day.

And then one night one of the dwarfs and he actually spoke. He knew of few ways to ensure his own freedom, his survival. What choice did he have but to admit who he was? To make it clear that they would face trouble before or when leaving this forest.

"You hold the son of the Elvenking prisoner, you realize. He will have already had a guard move ahead of us, track us, and will stop you by then to secure my release."

Glóin, for that was the dwarf that guarded him early that night, looked at him with some surprise. Such an admission and after several days of silence and snide elven comments. He 'harrumphed' a bit and was silent but to give the prince a glare.

"Be glad you didn't say that back in your fathers halls or Thorin would have made an example of you. No better way to hurt the elf he despises most than by slaying his son."

This Legolas knew and he was indeed glad he'd said nothing. Besides fearing for his own life, he worried for his people. Undoubtedly, his murder would have lead Thranduil to lead an all out war against dwarfs. The prince scoffed.

"He holds a grudge against the whole elven race for assistance my father could not render. He is as hard-headed and hot-blooded as any dwarf I have heard of."

Obviously the prejudices of his father had rubbed off on him and he made no effort at hiding it among a group that proved that dwarfs were no good. Glóin did not appear at all pleased with the comment and so he went back to being silent and simply keeping watch on the prince until he awoke Balin for the next watch. Balin was even less sociable but his silence was more pleasurable for company. Legolas tried to rest some but his wrists and shoulders ached, preventing him from even the slightest form of rest.

When they all awoke and forced him to his feet they continued on, not resting at all that day and going late into the night so that they could make more progress. Legolas spoke not a single word the entire day and made no effort to speak with Glóin again that night when the dwarf chose to be his guard once more. It seemed to suit him fine until he broke the silence.

"Where were you, son of Thranduil, when Erebor was attacked?" He questioned and Legolas was surprised. Visibly so that the dwarf laughed at the expression upon his face. For a awhile, the elf was silent. That had been decades ago and while his memory did not fade as human-kinds had a tendency to do, he did have to think it over. Finally is came to him and the memory was even a bit sad.

"A group of elflings found a way to sneak out of the Elvenkings halls and though we found their way out and sealed it to keep the infestation out, we were not quick enough. The spiders stung them and carried them off. They were all less than twenty years old, just children who wished to play among the trees and feel the wind upon their faces. I lead a hunting party after them and brought them back. One did not made it. The poison was so deep in his system that it paralyzed him so that even his breathing was halted. I held him when he died."

The hurt was on his face and Glóin said no more for some time. While that didn't equal the loss that their people had suffered fro Smaug, it seemed that Legolas took it as hard as they had taken their losses. As though-

"You blame yourself." It was no question and Legolas simply nodded. He held his people in high regard, so few of them that were left in Mirkwood. Thranduil had brought back less than a third of who had gone during the battle of the Last Alliance, the rest having been lost when Oropher lead a foolish charged and got himself and his followers killed. His father had become king that day but no celebration had been had.

"But ye saved the others."

And that was it for the night. The dwarf and elf had touched each other in a simple conversation but they had not gone unheard as others lay awake that night. One who felt a particular hatred for Thranduil.

And they walked nearly nonstop from then on, only pausing to rest and complain of how little food or water they had or how they couldn't stop long in case the Elvenking sent someone after them. When finally they did stop again, Legolas watched them silently while Oin kept watch on their prisoner. He quietly tried to work his wrists free from the rope, only to feel the harsh bite of them digging further into his skin and the warm stickiness of blood. For a moment then he thought to rest but a sound rang in his ears. A sound to faint for dwarfs or hobbits. Sitting upright he turned his head, his guard watching him warily. Recognition filled his face, skin paling.

"Telir yrch…" He muttered though the dwarf did not understand him. A sigh and, while he didn't wish to speak with them all in the Common Tongue he made an exception and yelled the same phrase to awaken them all.

"Orcs are coming!" In a moment all were awake and weapons were drawn. Briefly, Legolas let his eyes be drawn to Sting and it's pale blue glow. Elvish make, how curious but he had no time to dwell on it. Attention was drawn away from him and all the dwarfs gathered around the elf and hobbit. Legolas stood and looked around, listening but it was difficult now with the hushed whispers of dwarfs in the air. The cracking of a fallen branch nearby drew his attention.

"There!" He could not point but he turned to the sound and they focused there. A dozen orcs soon threw themselves out at the group, prepared to fight to the death and they didn't care who died. Legolas was used to fights but never so close together, never unarmed and certainly never with his arms bound! He found himself falling, out of sight of everyone.

Dwarfs truly weren't any good! All he'd done since coming near such creatures was get held prisoner and be hurt or threatened! And now he was very likely to die in an orc attack far to close to his fathers halls than were comfortable! He only wished to be home amongst his kin, enjoying an evening by a fire with song and wine, laughing and cheer.

There was a break in the battle, all the dwarfs attention focused on the orcs and the hobbit with them. This was the only chance he would have now, bound hands or otherwise! He moved carefully along the ground until he was behind the trees before struggling to his feet and running. The elf was not careful of his movements, of his footfalls, and he soon heard someone pursuing him. He was slow and clumsy with his hand bound and soon felt something tackle him to the ground, a foul smell revealing it to be an orc. Turning over to meet his death in the face only for an arrow to strike the orc in the back. Forward it fell and embedded it's knife into Legolas' shoulder.

"Nîdh!" He bit back another cry as the orcs weight pressed down upon him and the knife, digging it deeper into his flesh and making him fear it may go all the way through and scar. For once though, luck was on his side and the dwarfs appeared quickly and pulled the orc off the prince. Now the cry escaped him, blood oozing around the knife. For once, they seemed merciful and a fire was built while Glóin (certainly the most quick to anger as well which made the prince wonder if they were truly meaning to help him) came to tend him.

"Hold still. This will hurt." Though he said to hold still, Glóin pressed a hand firmly against Legolas' chest to keep him still upon the ground before pulling the knife free. It was jagged and made of a dark metal which the dwarf was quick to toss away from them all. Blood flowed more freely and though Legolas refused to shed a tear to this pain, he did groan. Bandages were taken from their gear as well as herbs to slow the bleeding and speed the healing. Once his shoulder was wrapped, the dwarfs and hobbit settled down to sleep, only Glóin remaining awake now to watch their prisoner.

Though he had no love for the Elvenkings kin, he could see the pain that Legolas suffered and he drew from his belt a knife and in making Legolas cringe, cut the ropes from his wrists. Now bared for him to see, there was dried blood all around them and would need to be treated. He brushed off help at first, accepting only the bandages from Glóin and attempting it on his own. It took several attempts and several failures, his hands still sore and nearly useless from how long they'd gone unused and tied so tightly, before the elf sighed and held his wrists out to a now irritated dwarf. Glóin was quick to wrap then, skill that surprised the elf. His shoulder was checked just in case and once again his wrists were bound, this time protected by the bandages that covered his bloodied wrists.

It was only a couple hours later when Legolas finally spoke.

"Why do you keep me when you surely know your way out by now? The trees thin now and the orcs are more daring than I've seen them within the past century."

Glóin was silent, disregarding the prince for a time before sighing.

"We'll not release you until we are sure of our safety."

"Len iallon, leithio nin." Legolas spoke now in Sindarin again, looking desperately at the dwarf as others awoke. Bilbo looked between him companions and then to Legolas. The hobbit certainly didn't approve of keeping him prisoner but he feared what might happen from here on. And the prince was their best bet at making sure they didn't get lost. Before anyone else spoke, Bilbo stepped over to him.

"He's right. We do no good for ourselves by keeping him prisoner. We may ruin our chances at reclaiming your home."

Displeased, Thorin gave a scowl to the hobbit and shook his head. He'd not have the elf, this prince, running off and ordering them dead before they got to and the dwarf made that perfectly clear as he glared at Legolas with cold eyes.

As morning came (which only Legolas could tell after spending his life among trees that nearly block out the sun) they moved on. It took only two more days from then before the edge of the forest was spotted and so then was a group of heavily armed elves. Not moving another step, several dwarfs took hold of Legolas, now worried that nothing they did would save them now.

The elves approached them now, ready to attack if any threat were made and dwarfs drew their own weapons. Thorin's sword came to point at Legolas and the prince once against feared for himself, sure that a battle would come from this.

"Step back or your Elvenprince will be skewered like a boar."

In Sindarin Legolas spoke quickly, ordering their weapons sheathed. At first the elves did not obey, forcing Legolas to repeat his order and more sharply. His voice was, in that moment, reminiscent of the Elvenking and they were quick to comply. With the elves unarmed, the dwarfs glanced to each other before stepping around them and still with Legolas their prisoner.

'Ai Elbereth, please let me be safely released.' He prayed to the Valar, walking with the dwarfs silently and when the edge of the woods were reached, her turned to glance back at his kin. As he did so, he suddenly felt the rope around his wrists loosen and then fall away. He did not glance back, grin upon his face, to see who had done it and nor did any of the dwarfs glance back to reveal it.

Years later, this story would be told to another dwarf (though far more in the favor of dwarfs) and that dwarf would become elf-friend.

* Ci orch 'waur! = You are a dirty orc!
** Nîdh! = It hurts!
*** Len iallon, leithio nin. = I beg of you, release me.