The house of Mirkwood had assembled early that morning in Thranduil's throne room. The king sat upon his throne, his expression stern and cold as ever. Below him stood Legolas, his son, accompanied by Fili and Kili and Kerra, the heirs of Durin. Their purpose was grave, I thought as I hid behind a great stone pillar and listened silently. Legolas in particular was grievously perturbed as he spoke. He had grown into a sensitive and kind young prince, and had grown to love the Durin line as his ally and company in Mirkwood.

"I have heard from our kin in Rivendell; they bring grave news," Legolas began, his voice low and melancholy. "The nephew of Bilbo Baggins has brought with him the dark ring into Rivendell's kingdom by the one they call Strider."

Thranduil frowned and turned to my mother in deep contemplation. The tale of the ring must have fallen beyond my parent's time.

"The ring is a dangerous evil indeed. The Dark Lord created it many thousands of years ago as the font he poured all evil into. It is a foul and manipulative weapon. It surprises me that it is a mere Hobbit that bares its weight," Thranduil elaborated.

My father, the heralded Kili of Durin, bristled and stepped forward.

"Do not forget that the mere Hobbit that carries that ring, whatever it might be, is a Baggins. We all know that the name Baggins holds more worth than any of ours in the realm of courage. That man birthed my own daughter, for God's sake!"

I smiled at the memory of my dear godfather, the one who, as my father had said, birthed me. I had not seen him in many long years, and had quite forgotten his face of old, but I would always remember his name.

"Yes, I have not forgotten," Thranduil replied, gazing at my mother affectionately. He remembered the very day she had given birth, and he had been glad that she was brought under his roof. He had been in dire need of a good friend, and had found one in her. He would be ever grateful to Bilbo and Tauriel – those who had brought only fortune to his dear Kerra.

"I know Strider," Fili interrupted abruptly, pacing forward to level his brother and my mother. The three heirs of Durin looked not a day older than they had sixty years ago. Thranduil had gifted them a talisman of immortality long ago, binding them to the kingdom of Mirkwood forever as he was, and preserving them as his council and friends. "I have met him many a time in my travels to the Shire. He is noble and dutiful, and he knows well enough the power of the ring, given his ancestry."

"I agree," Legolas affirmed dutifully. He had become close with the elder brother of Durin, Fili, following the death of their beloved Tauriel. She had sacrificed her long life to Kili, and had perished not long ago from old age. But she had left Fili as son, Andriel, as her legacy.

"Kiarri! Kiarri, we've found you at last!"

I cringed in horror as two familiar voices shouted my name and gave my presence away to the council. Heavy and fast footsteps brought two beaming figures to my side, both unaware of the great trouble that was awaiting us for it. Nora, a pretty young she-dwarf grinned cheekily at me, her red hair disheveled from its intricate braids and her blue eyes sparkling with merriness. Her accomplice, Andriel, smiled smugly at me as he observed my anguished expression. He had known what I was doing, and had used Nora in all her youthful ignorance to expose me.

"Kiarri Thora Durin," my mother, Kerra, called sternly. I grimaced and peered round the cover of the large column I hid behind. "You," she scolded frustratedly, "are too much like your father."

Behind her, I saw my father grinning proudly at me, as Uncle Fili chuckled silently. Perhaps I was, but was that such a bad thing?

The first chapter of my sequel! Please review and tell me what you think :)