"(YOUR NAME)", shouted Kili loudly, and you spun around to see a giant spider right behind you, its fangs dangerously close to your shoulder.

You grasped your sword tightly, and with all your strength, drove it as hard as you could into the beast's belly. It was impaled to the hilt, and thick, black sticky blood coated your tunic and hands. The creature writhed and screeched, its piercing wail filling the night air, then fell silent and slumped to the ground at your feet, dead. You removed your sword, and spun around again, looking for your next attack.

"Nice one!" shouted Fili, looking at you as he thrust his small dagger into one of a spider's many eyes.

"Thanks," you grunted in response, before leaping onto a nearby rock and hurling one of your throwing knives at an arachnid that was on its way to eat Thorin alive.

The blade buried itself deep into the creature's back, and with a blood-curdling screech, it slumped to the ground, joining its many dead relatives. Thorin's eyes strayed to the dagger in its back, then looked intently at you.

A small nod of recognition.

You weren't expecting flowers, but even a 'thank you' would have been nice from the dwarfish king. Oh well, you knew he wasn't the most gracious of people, and you, being as you were, not a dwarf, were not on his favourites list. He had barely agreed to let you come with him on this quest, but eventually, Gandalf's assurance that your skill with knives were unparalleled convinced him. You grabbed another knife from your belt and turned around again, ready for the next one, but you were to late. The creature fell, a smooth, intricate arrow sticking from its forehead.

An arrow? You looked at Kili, the only archer in the group, but he returned your gaze with a confused one of his own.

"Not mine!" he shouted, then swore loudly as an arrow whisked past his ear and impaled itself into another spider.

"Lower your weapons!" shouted a smooth, authoritative voice, and from the darkness of the forest, countless tall, slim figures emerged from the trees, cloaked in silver and green.

The spiders roared, and closed in on their attackers, but they were swiftly killed by swift, sharp bows, and the ones that remained quickly fled back into their dark, shadowy nests. Before you had a chance to question what was going on, you felt a small, sharp dagger digging into your throat. You froze.

"Drop your weapon," a smooth voice muttered into your ear, digging the knife deeper, drawing specks of blood from your exposed neck. Fearing for your life, you took a deep breath, and quickly jabbed the man behind you in the stomach with your elbow, then gave him a swift backfist into his groin, earning a pained grunt, and your freedom. You belted forwards, leaving him behind you bent double, and grabbed your sword from your belt.

"One more move and you die," came a female voice, and you slowly turned to see a she-elf with long red hair pointing her bow strait at your chest. Elves. Goddamit.

You were trapped.

You sighed, and let your knife fall to floor, hearing the dull thud of metal on grass. The weapons of your dwarf companions quickly joined it, as they made the executive decision not to die. The elf that you had attacked strode toward you, almost catlike. His long blonde hair was twisted into an extravagant style, with tiny plaits running from his forehead to the back of his scalp. A longbow was clutched tightly in one of his hands, and a mean-looking sword in the other. He didn't look like the kind of guy you wanted to piss off.

"My name is Legolas, son of Thranduil, prince of Mirkwood." he stated, looking down at you from his position of power.

Prince?

"Shit," you said simply, the word escaping your mouth before you could reign it in. Of all of the elves in the brigade, you had to attack the King's son, didn't you? Typical.

Legolas' left lip curledup in a sneer at your reaction, guessing your train of thought.

"I have given you my name, dwarf." he said, stepping back, and looking around at your companions before bringing his gaze back you, "Now it's your turn to give me yours."

You heard a small chuckle next to you, and glared at Kili and Fili, who were attempting to hide their giggles with coughs. They knew your hatred of constantly being mistaken for a dwarf. You had always been on the short side, but seriously?

"Excuse me?" you said scathingly, looking Legolas in the eyes, "I've heard that the Mirkwood elves aren't exactly the 'sharpest arrows in the quiver', but HONESTLY? You think I'm a dwarf?"

Legolas stuttered, as chuckles came from the group. They were used to your annoyance at situations like this.

"I mean COME ON!" you complained, rolling your eyes, "The complete lack of beard is a bit of a clue, surely..."

"I meant you no offence..." started Legolas, forgetting his position of power in his surprise at your response "I just assumed..."

"(Your name)," you said, cutting him off, "human."

"More like dragon," muttered Ori next to you, and you elbowed him in the ribs, drawing a muffled 'oof'.

"Follow me," said Legolas, quickly regaining his composure, "I'm sure my father would be interested in seeing this company..."

You felt an arrow pointing into your back, and sighed, begrudgingly following your friends in the direction that the elves was walking, bracing yourself before meeting Thranduil, King of Mirkwood.

"Move," came a gruff voice from behind you, and you were jabbed sharply in the back by a pointed sword, pushing you forwards.

You bit your tongue in an attempt to prevent yourself from advising the elf behind you where he could stick his sword, and simply stared forward and continued walking.

Legolas, the elf you had so gracefully managed to backfist in the groin about an hour ago, walked not too far ahead of you, occasionally looking back to check you were still there. You seemed to have given him the impression that you were a live wire. No idea where he got that from.

"We are here," he said in a smooth voice, gesturing towards a large, towering structure ahead of you.

You couldn't help yourself, you gasped in awe. You had heard that Mirkwood was large, but never in your wildest dreams had you imagined that it would be this monstrous size. The elf prince looked back at you again, his lips twitching as he took in your amazed expression. You looked around the group, and saw that your amazement was mirrored on everyone's faces. Even Thorin, not exactly the king of showing his feelings, had slightly widened eyes and a partly open mouth as he took in the beauty and craftsmanship of the colossal monument in front of him.

You spun around, looking for Bilbo, he small Hobbit who had joined you on your journey. As a creature who had spent his whole life in the Shire, you couldn't imagine how excited he would be to see the halls of an elven King, even if the circumstances were less than ideal.

You looked around again, confusion on your face. Leaning down to Kili, who was walking next to you, you whispered, out of earshot of the guards, "Where's Bilbo?"

Kili's heavy brow creased as he copied you and looked around your party, then returned your gaze with a shrug and a worried expression.

Where the hell had that Hobbit gone to?

You were led at swordpoint through the tall doors into the halls of Mirkwood. As your eyes became accustomed to the darkness, you began to notice how intricately it was designed.

The winding paths snaked from every floor and twisted their ways expertly through each other, each one leading to a different place. You allowed yourself to peek over the edge of the level that you were standing on, and instantly jumped back, heart beating fast. You couldn't even see how far down it went, but suffice to say it was a very long drop.

"I guess you won't be trying any daring escapes in here," came a low voice from behind your shoulder. It took you totally by surprise, and you gasped, letting out a curse and spinning around, hand grasping for your sword, and coming face to face again with Legolas. Was this guy ever going to leave you alone?

"Shit," you breathed out, and the elf before you broke into a sly smile.

"You seem to be saying that an awful lot to me today," he smirked, noticing how your hand lay where the top of your sword would be, even though your weapon was still somewhere on the floor in the middle of a forest.

"People might begin to think you don't like me," he continued, his distaste for you abundantly clear, placing his long knife back in the scabbard on his back

"Where on earth would they get that idea from?" you mumbled sarcastically, earning another smug expression from the elven prince.

"Keep going," came a voice from behind you, and you and the dwarves were bundled forward through many twisting paths and walkways. You made sure to stay well away from the edges, knowing that a small slip would cause you to fall to your untimely death.

At last, you reached your destination. You looked around you, still in awe at the grandeur of the area, before your eyes fell on what could only be King Thranduil. His robes were extravagant, golden and silver with ruby thread. He was sitting on a large throne, and perched atop his sleek blonde hair was a crown made of twisted branches.

"May I introduce King Thranduil," said a guard, still pointing his arrow directly at you.

King Thranduil? Legolas' father? You guessed you could see the family resemblance. Long straight blonde hair and strong eyebrows over bright blue eyes obviously ran in this family.

The king stood up, revealing his impressive height, he must have been at least six three, and walked towards your group.

"Intruders?" he asked, a side of his mouth turning up in a sly smile, "And all dwarves, I see..."

You sighed loudly, and heard a chuckle from your left. You turned around to see Legolas fighting back a smile. He seemed to understand the dwarf situation.

Thranduil looked at you, his eyes quizzical.

"Have I offended you in some way, dwarf?" he asked, smirking as if the notion of dwarves having feelings was completely ridiculous.

"Dwarf." you said simply, "I'm not a bloody dwarf, I'm just short..."

"How dare you speak to the king with such disrespect!" roared a guard, pointing his sword at your chest.

"Lower your weapon," ordered Thranduil, studying you with detached curiosity, "You're a fiery one."

"If you so much as touch her I will not hesitate to kill you," came a gruff voice, and you froze in shock and surprise as Thorin stood in front of you protectively, guarding your body with his much wider one. Throughout your journey you had never had so much as a 'well done' from the Dwarvish King, so an act of such caring was completely unexpected.

Thranduil stepped back, amused, and took his place one again on his throne.

"Thorin Oakenshield," he said smoothly, "I have heard much about you,"

"And I, you," replied Thorin curtly, still hiding you from sight.

"Guards," called Thranduil lazily, snapping his fingers. The surrounding elves instantly stood to attention.

"Take the prisoners away," he continued, then turned to look at Thorin, "Apart from this one, I wish to speak with him alone."

You were once again bundled around and marched out of the area. You turned your head to see Thorin, standing proud, being towered over by the tall elf.

A warm hand gripped your bicep, and you looked up into the eyes of Legolas.

"I am sorry," he said earnestly, "I wish there was some other way. My father is strict, but that does not answer for his behaviour. I would never dream of locking a woman up..."

"Hey," you said back, your face annoyed,"Less of the 'woman'?"

"I... I don't understand..."

"Just because I'm female, it doesn't mean you have to treat me any differently than anyone else. I'm a fighter, I'm a warrior. I've killed as many people as these dwarves plus some more. Don't make the mistake of underestimating me."

To your surprise, Legolas grinned, his eyebrows raising at your unexpected outburst.

"You really are quite something," he mused, as you were roughly shoved into a cell and the door was slammed in your face.

The guards walked off. Legolas held your gaze for a moment, then followed them into the darkness.