A/N This was something I wrote when I had my students complete an assignment: insert a chapter into The Hobbit with an OC. It was just something fun to practice their writing skills, but I thought I would share my version. Not that anyone is interested, but I wrote this on February 22, 2013. That's BEFORE Tauriel was really introduced as a character, though everyone was aware of her inclusion. So, no I didn't copy.

Flies and Spiders

The sun was sinking in the west, filtering across the distant marshes and turning the snow at the peak of the distant Lonely Mountain into a flaming torch as Lucy made her way out of the Elvenking's hall. The doors clanged shut behind her with a finality that made her shiver. She knew she wasn't supposed to go out at night, alone. Yet here she was.

She made her way swiftly across the bridge over the Running River and into the beeches which lined the shores. They stood in long rows, dipping their feet into the icy waters. As she threaded a path through the trunks she glanced around cautiously. She wasn't the best tracker or the quietest hunter, so no need to get herself caught.

In no time at all the trees around her changed, becoming more oaks than beeches. The night grew even darker around her and as her eyesight began to fail her, her hearing became keener. In the distance she could hear the merrymaking of her kin as they gathered with Thranduil to celebrate the approaching fall. They wouldn't miss her tonight.

Knowing this, she angled her path for a more southerly direction, slipping through the darkness as though she knew the forest well. Which she did. The elf-maidens didn't want her and she couldn't openly pal around with the guards, who were her friends. She was left alone. Too much a tomboy, not enough of a real boy.

Shaking these thoughts from her mind, she stopped as she realized she'd reached the northern path; the only safe path through Mirkwood. If any path could be called safe in these days. Goblins and Wargs had begun stirring again and a strange evil pervaded the air. And the spiders...Lucy shuddered. She hated spiders. And these were indeed huge, the descendents of Ungoliant from long ago. She wished they'd all die in a fiery blaze.

Glancing quickly back the path, she hurried in the opposite direction of the Elevenking's hall, heading toward the enchanted stream. But when she arrived on the banks she found the little boat she used to get across was gone. Straining her eyes in the darkness she could just make the boat out downstream, lodged against some outpressed roots. Shaking her head in disbelief, Lucy turned to trudge back to the hall, having been denied her escape for the night. But as she plodded along the path, she was sure she kept hearing voices.

She began peering through the well-spaced trunks of the oaks to her left, trying to tell if her ears were deceiving her. No matter how hard she looked, however, she couldn't locate the source of the voices. Finally giving up, she had just decided to head for the feast (at least she could get something to eat) when shouts suddenly rang out through the silence of Mirkwood. The shouts were coming from the direction of the feast! In a panic she raced for the feast site, weaving through the trees in her haste. But as she grew closer the shouting stopped. Bewildered, she stood for a long time in the silence, trying to figure out where she was as well as what had happened.

Finally, off to her right she saw a light spring up once again. They must have rekindled the feast-fire, she thought. As she crept toward the fire, shouts rang out once again and the fire was doused almost immediately. She dashed in the direction of the fire but ended up sprawling on the forest floor, having tripped over a log. She lay there for a few moments, winded, then scrambled quickly to her feet as the log suddenly began to moan and squirm at her feet.

"What in the name of Durin do you think you're doing, charging around in the dark like that?" The voice sounded irritated and she was immediately on guard.

"Well, excuse me for not being able to see!" Lucy huffed and glared in the direction the voice had come from, though she was far from certain that that was where the speaker was standing. "What are you doing lying on the forest floor in the dark, anyway? Normal people take the path through Mirkwood."

The voice paused a good while before answering. "We were on the path, I and my thirteen companions. But we were starving to death and we saw the feast fire in the distance. We left the path to beg for food, but the dratted Elves left us to wander alone in the dark. Now I can't find any of my companions and I have no clue where the path is. Miserable Elves. Miserable Mirkwood..."

As the voice spoke, Lucy felt herself growing colder. She couldn't be completely sure, but she was almost certain she was speaking with a dwarf!

"Y-y-y-you're a dwarf," she stuttered.

"And you're a sharp one," he returned.

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?"

"Why would I do that? At this point, you're my only way out of here!"

"Because that's what dwarves do. They kill elves."

"You're an elf?"

Lucy paused before answering, unsure of what to do. The dwarf seemed to take the silence to mean something else entirely, because before she could answer, he asked a different question.

"Why do you think dwarves kill elves?"

"Because my mother was killed by dwarves. In Doriath. Dwarves are greedy and malicious and incredibly violent. They will do anything for money or power. Every elf knows that."

Now it was the voice's turn to pause. "I wasn't there, you know. We dwarves aren't that long lived."

"But you're all the same."

"That's like saying all Elves are the same."

"Well that's just not true. We're certainly not."

"Then why are dwarves the same? We dwarves all know Elves are manipulative and selfish and backstabbing. Would you call yourself that?"

Lucy considered this for a moment. "Ok, then if all dwarves aren't money and vengeance hungry, what are you doing in Mirkwood?"

At this the voice hemmed and hawed, unable to answer.

Lucy nodded, though no one could see it in the dark. "That's what I thought."

The voice spoke again and in her mind's eye she could see him holding his hands up, a gesture of patience. "Now before you say anything else, yes, we dwarves are on our way to the Lonely Mountain to reclaim our gold from Smaug. But right now I'm more concerned about finding my friends. There are twelve other dwarves and a hobbit. And it's that hobbit I'm especially concerned about. I promised Gandalf I would look after him."

Lucy considered what the voice had said, tapping her forefinger against her chin. "Ok, let's say you're telling the truth. What's the next step?"

"To find my dwarves and that dratted hobbit!"

Lucy was just about to answer when she heard a noise in the nearby woods. "There are Elves coming!" she whispered into the dark. "Thranduil must have seen you or your people and decided to come and collect you!"

She could hear scrambling in the dark. "You've got to hide me!"

"There's nowhere to hide you!" With that she melted back into the shadows of the darkness and waited while the Elven guard approached. Even if she did trust him, he was still a dwarf.

She followed closely as the Elven guard bound the dwarf and led him away through the forest. In the flickering torchlight she could clearly see him. He was older than she had expected but still well within the prime of his life. She even caught herself thinking he was handsome with his long hair bound back from his face and his square jaw. But he was still a dwarf and she had no interest in helping a dwarf.

She followed the group until they reached the bridge across the River Running, then let them enter ahead of her. No need to let the guard know she'd been in the forest alone. She crossed after the doors had closed, spoke the magic word to open them once again, then hurried through as the clanged behind her. Heading directly for the throne room, Lucy was just in time to see the dwarf thrown before Thranduil. He proclaimed his innocence but he never said a word about the gold. She did learn another interesting tidbit, however: his name. He was known as Thorin Oakenshield.

She watched as they led him away, then hurried over to her father, Galion. "Ada, what's going on?"

"Ah, my daughter. Never you fear, we simply had a lurker hiding in the 'wood. We've taken care of him and now we can get down to the business of planning our Mabon festival. Come, help me get the kitchen staff hurried along on the bread making. Then I need to oversee the unloading of the wine casks. We received a shipment of Dorwinion for our festival! The king will be so pleased..."

After managing to escape her father's endless string of chores, Lucy made her way down into the dungeons, searching for the prisoner. Thorin Oakenshield. Such an interesting name...

Much searching was needed before she finally stumbled upon his jail, buried deep within the caverns. For some time she only sat by the door and stared at it. Finally, one day, she managed the courage to speak.

"So dwarf, you find yourself ensnared for your treachery."

"I know that voice. You're the elf from the forest, aren't you?"

"I am. I also know who you are, Thorin Oakenshield. Why didn't you tell Thranduil about your errand, why you were crossing Mirkwood?"

"Because he'd obviously had no knowledge of my friends. I wanted to keep it that way. I didn't want us all to be captured."

Lucy snorted. "You're not that noble, dwarf."

"And you're not that polite, Elf."

Lucy smiled despite herself. She fancied she could hear a smile in his voice as well. "I must go. I'm sure there are preparations that need to be made for our feast. Consider being honest with Thranduil. Perhaps he'll set you free."

"Stay."

"What?"

"Stay with me awhile, Elf-girl. I find myself lonely and you're surprisingly good company."

Lucy thought for a moment, glanced back down the passage toward the main quarters of the palace, then internally shrugged. What harm could it do?

Over the next few days she sat often by Thorin's door, where they shared stories of their childhoods and hopes for the futures. Lucy confided that she was afraid of being trapped forever in the Woodelves' realm, and Thorin shared his sorrow over his father's and grandfather's deaths, and how they remained unavenged. Slowly, Lucy grew to like the grumpy dwarf, and Thorin lost his hatred of Elves.

One day, Lucy hurried down to Thorin's prison much earlier than normal. "They've found more dwarves!" she exclaimed. "They brought them before the king and he ordered them thrown into the dungeons as well. They're a level up from here."

"Did they say anything about our errand?" Thorin demanded.

"No, not a word. They actually just managed to insult Thranduil right away. It was really quite impressive." She could hear Thorin's sigh of relief through the door.

"You mustn't come back, Lucy. You need to stay away from us. I don't want you getting into trouble, and with the other dwarves now prisoners, the palace is sure to be in an uproar for a while. Go do your father's bidding for a few days, and we'll see what happens. Maybe things will calm down after your Mabon festival."

Lucy cast her eyes toward the floor, more saddened than she anticipated to hear Thorin's words. But she knew he was right. She couldn't bring any more suspicion on the head dwarf. Things were bad enough as it was.

She did as he said, but worried constantly over him in the meantime. Little did she know that a certain hobbit had managed to locate Thorin's prison and had been passing messages between him and the dwarves. No plan could be formed, but at least they knew they were all together.

Mabon swiftly approached and the caverns became a beehive of activity. Elves ran hither and thither in their attempts to get food prepared, decorations arranged, and clothing chosen. Lucy grudgingly helped out whenever she was required, but she spent a great deal of time moping in her room.

One day, her door opened, then closed again, though no one could be seen. She looked cautiously around the room, but could see no reason. Suddenly, a little creature appeared out of thin air. The hobbit had come looking for her; Thorin beckoned.

She hurried to his dungeon, Bilbo invisible behind her. She knelt by the door and whispered through the keyhole, "Thorin, what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, Lucy, but Bilbo tells me the elves are completely wrapped up in this festival. Is there any way we could sneak out in the chaos?"

Lucy thought for a few moments, then spoke. "There might be a way. We could sneak you out down the river in the empty barrels that we send back to Laketown. It wouldn't be a comfortable journey, but it could work. The only problem is my father, Galion. He's the butler for the king and I guarantee he won't let his guard down. Maybe I can get his friend, the chief guard, to have a drink with him. We have some really strong wine and ada doesn't have much of a head for alcohol..."

Thorin was silent for a moment, perhaps considering the possibilities. "If you can do that, Lucy, Bilbo can lift the keys. Let's try it."

So they put the plan into motion. Lucy sidled up alongside the chief guard and casually mentioned the shipment of Dorwinion. He all but licked his lips in anticipation as he hurried down to the cellars. Bilbo waited until they had both passed out before lifting the keys and freeing the dwarves. Lucy led them down to the cellar to where the barrels were stored and she and Bilbo began packing dwarves up into barrels, trying to make them as comfortable as possible. Finally all that was left was Thorin and Bilbo. Bilbo, sensing that a moment was needed, slipped out into the corridor to watch for anyone to come down. Thorin turned to Lucy.

"I can't thank you enough for what you've done for us. When I met you that night in the woods, I never would have thought you'd become such a valuable friend."

Lucy smiled shyly. "I'm grateful as well, Thorin Oakenshield. You've taught me to look beyond the surface. I won't forget that."

"Promise me that you'll come visit us in Erebor someday. I would love to show you around once we clear out the dragon." Thorin grasped both her hands tightly.

"I will try. I'm not sure how my people will feel about dwarves after this adventure."

Thorin smiled gravely. "If you can't promise to visit, then promise to leave. I want you to see the world. It's a wonderful, adventurous place and I want you to experience as much of it as you can."

Lucy nodded. "I can promise that much." Impulsively, she leaned down to kiss his cheek. When she pulled away, she was surprised to see a sheen in Thorin's eyes. But before more could be said, Bilbo hustled back into the room.

"Some other elves have just woken your father, Lucy and they're slowly heading this way! We must hurry!"

With that, they quickly bustled Thorin into a barrel and Bilbo popped on his ring. Lucy slid quickly into a side room, where she watched as the elves opened the trap door and began shoving the barrels into the stream below.

"Goodbye, my friend," she murmured as Thorin's barrel went over the edge. As soon as all the barrels were away and she had heard the soft plash of Bilbo jumping into the river, she slipped out, somehow unnoticed, and all but ran for the front gates. There, she stood and watched as the barrels began to drift slowly down the river, making their way to Laketown.

"I won't let you down," she whispered into the deepening night. Tears slid silently down her face as darkness claimed the world.