Hey Everyone! I'm baaaaaack!

So this is the long promised prequel series to my Lord of the Rings OC Trilogy. Expect lots of background for our OC and also an introduction to her relationship with Legolas! If you've already read my first trilogy, awesome! but expect to read it again bc after i'm done uploading The Hobbit series, I will be going back through that one and uploading my edits! and there have been A LOT of edits, from grammar to entire story changes!

If you haven't already read my first trilogy, DON'T. As i said earlier, I WILL be editing it A LOT.

Enjoy loves!


"The first order of business is to find a dwarf. But not just any dwarf, I didn't wake up with a craving…" The old wizard groaned on his horse, toking his pipe and taking a long winded puff.

"Indeed…" Caladwen mused, watching the wizard carefully. "Why have you not told me of him till late?" She asked. Gandalf gave her a look, a bashful look, and Caladwen tsked at him. "It's a new age, Gandalf. Tis only the elves of Greenwood who still harbor ill will to their kind. Tell me, who is to be our dwarf companion?" Gandalf's face only soured more as he settled into his saddle. He made to speak, when an arrow flew past his face, getting lost in the field behind them. Caladwen froze, looking wildly into the trees as the two suddenly found themselves surrounded by a band of ruffians.

"Well, what've we 'ear, brothers?" One of the ruffians exclaimed.

"Seems to be's a wee princess and her grandfather." A second said.

"Trav'lin' lightly, loves?" A third spoke, eyeing their packs tied to their horses. Caladwen glared at the bandits, making to remove her hood, when Gandalf stopped her.

"We make haste to Bree, family emergency, I'm afraid." Gandalf told them cool. Caladwen stifled a grimace, the first bandit who'd spoke hadn't taken his eyes off her, instead studying her up and down lasciviously.

"Ah, well it be a shame you won't be making it to no Bree…"

"But we could always let your family know. We've businesses to attend in those parts." The first bandit, whom Caladwen had decided was the leader, told them. From behind her, Caladwen could hear the distinct ting of blades being unsheathed, and in an instant she drew her bow from her saddle, nocking an arrow and letting it loose. It struck the Bandit's leader in his throat, and he grabbed at it futilely before falling from his horse, dead. With a flick of her wrist, Caladwen removed her hood, earning a sigh from Gandalf.

"Any others?" She offered the group around them. They stood motionless for a moment, staring at their dead leader, before glaring up at her. Under their breaths she could hear several of the bandits awing at her ears, it's an elf! They whispered.

"Get them!" The third speaker shouted. Caladwen was prepared for a fight, and nocked another arrow.

"Fárëa! (Enough!)" Gandalf shouted, filling the air around them with a bright light. The distinct smell of brimstone hit Caladwen's nose in a violent wave, and she stifled a gag. With a groan, he turned towards Caladwen, shaking his head at her. "Hood up." He motioned for her to replace her cowl. "Until we get where needs be." He told her. Caladwen rolled her eyes, following his instruction, and restowed her bow. She knew that having an elf this far east would only incite needless attention, but she cared not for the likes of boastful men, especially those who lusted for her in an insidious way.

"Well, it is of little consequence now." Caladwen told Gandalf quietly. "Any who saw are dead." Gandalf nodded slowly, eyeing the Bandit's dead leader.

"Check his person for an old wizard, would you?" He asked Caladwen. She rolled her eyes, hopping from her steed and quickly making her way to the dead man. Upon checking his pockets she found a rather large change purse, but inside the change purse she could feel a piece of parchment, one that intrigued her so.

"It is a bounty." She told Gandalf after pulling it from the pouch, giving it a once over. "Written in Black Speech!" She hissed in disgust, resisting the urge to toss it into the dirt. "For… Thôrin Oakenshield…" Caladwen trailed off, looking up at Gandalf with surprise. "Is this your dwarf?" Caladwen asked him cooly. Gandalf nodded, extending his hand for the parchment she held. She gave it to him, watching the wizard incredulously. "Why then, have you brought an elf? He will never agree to any terms with me." She told Gandalf, Caladwen knew of Thôrin's relationship with those of her kind. Gandalf shrugged, quickly pocketing the parchment in his cloak.

"I thought he could use the help of one so… Wise and level headed." Gandalf muttered, giving Caladwen a pointed look. Caladwen felt her face flush as she mounted her horse again.

"I didn't like the way he looked at me." She told him honestly, continuing on down the path. Gandalf rolled his eyes, following quickly behind her, muttering something of impetuous youth and reckless abandon.


By the time Gandalf and Caladwen had made it to Bree the next evening, it had begun to rain. The pair were soaked to the bone and they entered the pub quickly, as to escape the rain. To her surprise, the pub was packed full this wet evening, filled with laughter, swears and the sound of over all merriment.

"He should have beat us here…" Gandalf muttered to himself, taking a look around. It was Caladwen who saw the dwarf first, his small frame huddled over a table. She gestured to the dwarf and Gandalf smiled at her, quickly making his way through the pub.

"Mind if I join you?" Gandalf said happily, taking a seat across the table from him. Caladwen stood behind him, watching the Dwarven King in front her. She'd never met Thôrin but she had heard stories, from the fall of Erebor to the War for Moria, he was renowned for his prowess. She'd expected him to be… more? Which was silly considering. Gandalf gestured to Caladwen to take the seat to Thôrin's right, and she did so gracefully, noticing the way he clutched his sword. "I'll have the same." Gandalf told the passing waitress, clutching at her sleeve. He looked at Caladwen expectantly, and she shook her head.

"None, thanks." She smiled at the woman, her attention refocusing on Thôrin. He studied both of the newcomers in silence, throwing a quick look over his shoulder, before settling back into his seat. Caladwen followed his gaze, across the pub sat a surely looking character, who glared at Thôrin and his party with contempt.

"I should introduce myself. My name is Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey." Gandalf told him happily.

"I know who you are." Thôrin spoke last, his voice commanding. He turned to look at Caladwen with curiously hateful eyes. "And the Elf?" He practically spat.

"Ah yes! That is Caladwen, emissary of Rivendell, the Shield Maiden of Imladris." Gandalf smiled at the pair, much like a parent would at a child when telling them to play nice. Caladwen did the way he forgot him her noble title. "Well now! This is a fine chance! What brings Thôrin Oakenshield to Bree?" Gandalf continued unaware. Thôrin gave Caladwen one last glare before turning his attention to Gandalf.

"I received word that my father had been seen wandering the wilds near Dunland." He said quietly, regarding Caladwen suspiciously. "I went looking and found no sign of him."

"You are looking for Thrain?" Caladwen asked him quietly. The Dwarf scowled at her, but she paid him no mind.

"He still lives; I am sure of it." He informed her, silencing anything she had left to say. The waitress returned, placing Gandalf's plate on front of him with a tense smile, apparently the air at the table was palpable. "My father came to see you before he went missing. What did you say to him?"

"I urged him to March upon Erebor; to rally the seven armies of the dwarves, to destroy the dragon and take back the lonely mountain." Gandalf said through bites. "And I would say the same to you. Take back your Homeland." Gandalf's tone carried some sort of finality that made Caladwen's hair stand on edge. There was a power in his voice, one that Caladwen could feel. Thôrin could feel it too, and he took a swing of his ale in contemplation.

"This is no chance meeting, is it, Gandalf?" Thôrin spook cooly. Gandalf shook his head, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"No, it is not. The Lonely Mountain troubles me, Thôrin. That dragon has sat there long enough. Sooner or later, darker minds will turn toward Erebor." Gandalf sighed. "We ran into some unsavory characters whilst traveling along the Greenway. They mistook us for vagabonds." Gandalf directed a wink towards Caladwen and she buried a smirk. Thôrin watched the pair carefully, smirking himself.

"I imagine they regretted that." Thôrin said almost sarcastically.

"One of them was carrying a message." Gandalf continued, placing the bounty that Caladwen had found on the table between the three. "It is Black Speech." No sooner had Gandalf said it, than Thôrin pushed the paper away from him in disgust. "It's a promise of payment."

"For what?" Thôrin asked, disgusted.

"Your head." Caladwen chimed in seriously. That caught the dwarves attention, and before he could utter a word to her, Gandalf took the reigns again.

"Someone wants you dead. Thôrin, you can wait no longer. You are the heir to the throne of Durin. Unite the armies of the dwarves." Gandalf rallied. "together you have the might and power to retake Erebor. Summon a meeting of the seven dwarf families. Demand they stand by their oaths!"

"The seven armies swore that oath to the one who wields the King's Jewel, the Arkenstone! It is the only thing that will unite them, and in case you have forgotten, that Jewel was stolen by Smaug." Caladwen frown at his words. She heard only stories of the destruction of Dale and Erebor, but those stories were enough to scare her as a child.

"What if I were to help you reclaim it?" Gandalf asked him, piquing his interest.

"How? The Arkenstone lies half a world away, buried beneath the feet of a fire breathing dragon."

"Yes it does, which is why we are going to need a burglar." The old wizard smiled. Thôrin scoffed.

"A burglar." He laughed as he took another drink. "And where do you suppose we get one of those? Don't tell me you'd use the Noldur." Thôrin spoke cooly, glaring at Caladwen. Caladwen returned his glare, leaning forward in her seat.

"You never know when it would be helpful to have an elf in your back pocket. Their council can be wise and linear." Gandalf spoke, placing a hand on Caladwen's shoulder and gently pushing her back into her chair. "But no, it is not Amdirvaethil who would be your burglar. I had someone lighter in mind."


It was another journey to make it to the Shire. They sat so far away from the kingdom of Men and Elves it was no wonder they had never truly been involved in any war. It was a peaceful place, filled with the sound laughter and the busy bustling of a thriving community. There were songs, dancing, children playing. Caladwen marveled at it all, making sure to watch where she step, should she accidentally step on a wee Hobbit child.

The Hobbits around them smiled at the grey wizard, and the same for his travelling companion, though where he was greeted with gestures of friendship, she found awkward silence and an air of curiosity.

"Come here often, Mithrandir?" Caladwen spoke quietly, earning a nod from the old Wizard.

"I do. Every year to let loose my fizz pops. I am quite famous around these parts." Gandalf grinned at her, leading her down a separate road. "The Baggins residence is just up this hill, just at the end of Bagshot Row, it is where you will find Bagend." Gandalf told her, leading out towards what she could only assume was a gently rolling pasture. Down the ways, sitting in the front yard of a small Hobbit hole, sat a small, ginger Hobbit, who seemed to be enjoying his peace and quiet, basking in the sun with his eye closed and a smile on his face.

"Gandalf-"

"Ah yes, there he is. Our burglar." Gandalf laughed as the pair approached the small home. The Hobbit was entirely unaware of their approach, and in his silent reverie, he blew a smoke ring from his pipe, one that Gandalf turned into a moth, which flitted back into the Hobbit's face. The Hobbit gasped, coughing as he did, before finally realizing he was not alone.

"Good morning." The Hobbit greeted them, his initial surprise seemingly evaporated. Caladwen smiled at him warmly, it always amazed her, the optimism of Hobbits.

"What do you mean? Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning, whether I want it or not?" Gandalf stopped thoughtfully, the confused look on the Hobbit's face growing as he continued to speak. "Or perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning, or are simply stating this is a morning to be good on?" Gandalf finished. Caladwen breathed deeply through her nose, rolling her eyes at the old wizard.

"All of them at once I suppose?" The Hobbit responded, bewildered. Gandalf turned to Caladwen, who in turn tilted her head, a confused gesture, as she watched the Hobbit. The air between them grew awkward, and the Halfling cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, can I help you?"

"That remains to be seen. We're looking for someone to share in an adventure." The Hobbit guffawed, nearly dropping his pipe as he did.

"An adventure? Now I don't imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner!" He laughed, obviously uncomfortable. The Halfling turned nervously to her mailbox, grabbed several letter from it before heading back to his house, only sparing Caladwen and Gandalf a single glance. "Well, uh, Good morning!" He greeted again.

"To think I should have lived to be good morninged by Belladonna Took's son as if I were selling buttons at the door." The Hobbit stopped in his tracks, turning where he stood, startled at the mention of his mother.

"Beg your pardon?" He asked rudely enough for a Hobbit.

"You've changed, and not entirely for the better, Bilbo Baggins."

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Well, you know my name, although you don't remember I belong to it. I'm Gandalf!" Gandalf told him, as recognition appeared across Bilbo's face. "and Gandalf means me!"

"Not Gandalf the Wandering Wizard?" Bilbo said with a smile. "Who made such excellent fireworks! Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve! I had no idea you were still in business!" Bilbo continued. Gandalf gave the Hobbit a scathing look as Caladwen stifled a snort, earning an equally angry glare.

"And where else should I be?"

"Well.." Bilbo trailed off sheepishly, taking another hit of his pipe.

"Well I'm pleased to find you remember something about me, even if it's only my fireworks." Gandalf groused, turning his attentions away from Caladwen. "Then it's been decided. It will be very good for you and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others."

"Inform the who? What?" Bilbo sputtered, retreating further towards Bagend. "No! We do not want any adventure here, thank you! Not today! I suggest you try somewhere over the hill or across the water!" Bilbo told them, shaking his head furiously. "Good morning!" He finished, slamming the door behind him. Caladwen paused for a second, turning to her friend quietly.

"That could have gone better." She told him. Gandalf nodded his head, crossing Bilbo's gate to his front door. For a moment, Caladwen thought he was going to knock again, but instead the old man began to etch a glowing rune on his front door. "A moon rune?" Caladwen questioned. "But that is not for a few weeks!"

"Aye, he will change his mind before the dwarves arrive. I'm sure of it." Gandalf told her confidently. Caladwen suppressed a grin, taking a look over her shoulder to find that Bilbo Baggins was watching them walk away through his window.

"And what will we do until they arrive?" Caladwen asked impetuously. Gandalf seemed thoughtful for a moment, his face growing sheepish. He hadn't thought of that. "You know, you didn't even introduce me." Caladwen pouted. Gandalf smiled at her, leading her down the path.

"You're a strong, smart, independent elf, are you not?" Gandalf teased, earning a growl from Caladwen.


"Naneth, ada!" Caladwen worried, stepping in front of her parents as they handed their bags off to their servants to strap to their horses. The caravan was to leave for Greenwood, on a sort of diplomacy exhibition, there was talk of united the forests. Caladwen was too busy with .education to go this time, and was therefore staying in Lothlorien with her grandparents, a thought she did not like at all "Please you can't go!" She begged her mother in Elvish. Lothandeneth gave her daughter a piteous smile, placing two gentle hands on her shoulders.

"Caladwen," Her mother returned sweetly, kissing her forehead. Caladwen sighed, closing her eyes. "It will only be a few weeks, we will be back before you even realize."

"I saw you. In my dreams last night." Caladwen protested.

"You said you saw a white stag?" Lothandeneth questioned.

"I did see a white stag! But she was overtaken by darkness. And scattered into the trees!" Caladwen cried out, burying her face in her hands. "But I know it was you, mother, I could feel it! Please don't go!"

"Lothandeneth, Mi'Amell, it is time to go." Caladwen's father, Idhrenion, interrupted, joining Lothandeneth at her side. Lothandeneth gave him a small smile before standing. Now it was his turn to say goodbye.

"Please father..." Caladwen whispered, trying one more time to get him to see reason. He gave her the same smile her mother did.

"Lirimaer, I know you are nearly fifty, but I implore you listen to your grandparents." He told her, planting a kiss on her forehead.

"But I am afraid." Caladwen told him.

"I know, but you will be fine. Haldir is here to keep you safe." Idhrenion teased, gesturing over to a younger elf soldier, who was failing to hide behind a nearby tree. Caladwen's father stood, looking behind her to her grandmother, Galadriel.

"She will be fine," Galadriel told them. "Mithrandir is coming with some of his famous fireworks this evening." Galadriel said, more to Caladwen than to her parents. She placed a gentle hand on her wrist, holding her in place as her parents made for their horses.

With a final wave, her parents left, but Caladwen did not move from that spot for a long while, even after Galadriel had gone. Something rooted her there, something that had no tangible self. It was memory, which kept her in place. The last memory she would ever have of her parents.