Disclaimer: I do not own the 'Hobbit' or its characters- I am merely borrowing them for this fanfiction. The characters, places, phrases and et. cetera to be used all respectively belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. I only own the original character of Tawariell Silimaurë. Please leave comments and constructive critisisms on this work. Thank you and enjoy. I will be making updates as often as I can.
Preface:
In the shadows of the old fortress, she saw and felt nothing. Within the stone she was trapped and lost. She knew a creature, or rather a supernatural being, resided there in its stoned horror. For years she had heard of how desolate and cursed this place was, but yet she was not afraid. She felt around in the darkness, with her hands reaching out for stone to hold onto. The princess always imagined that this place wouldn't haunt her dreams, but how she was wrong. Still, she kept reaching out for something, or perhaps even someone.
But even as her barefeet trekked her here and there, she felt as if she had a pair of eyes gazing upon her in this seldom place. It felt so frightening to feel that gaze upon her, but she did not fret. She tried to continue along the edge of the stone, carefully as could be. How haunting this place was. But yet, it felt so welcoming, non-threatening, that it made her feel like she was under some spell. The dark veil flew over her like wings of a bat, but she did not recoil. But as she approached the open corridor of the ruins, she saw a figure lurking there in the shadows, as it was rumored it was to have done so. It took the shape of a man, and her heart rang with terror.
How long had that figure been here, residing within these decrepted stones and pillars of evil? How had that mysterious figure, or rather this unknown man, come to stay in such a place? The princess walked up the cracked steps of this ruin, with her eyes open and cautiously looking. This moment seemed to be estranged to her, as if it were meant to be and yet not so. Though the surroundings were dark, she glowed like a star among the crooked vines and piercing thorn branches that covered almost every inch of this place.
Who is that shape in the shadows, she wondered. Whose is that face in the tainted mask? Whether by the decay of time or by the hands of fate, she would find out who belonged to those shadows.