Man ceril?= What are you doing?

Násë sí= He is here.

Imrid amrâd ursul=Die a death of flames

Skorā= watch out

Thorin walked up the stairs to meet the king that betrayed him long ago, oh he wished he had a dagger he would have loved to slit the elflings throat in front of his father and watch the horror on the kings face as his son choked on his own blood.

He got to the top of what he assumed to be the throne room. Standing before him wearing a crown of autumn branches was Thranduil. The king turned to his son.

"Legolas, ion nîn, you have returned," he smiled and looked to Thorin. "And with a dwarf no less, I did not realize that orcs had such disguises."

"Alas, Hîr vuin, we saw no sign of the orcs, just spiders and a company of 13 dwarves." Legolas answered bowing his head.

The young elf went to go stand next to his father and handed him the map and key that was taken during their capture. Thorins face hardened. He was not going to enjoy the next few minutes.

Blibo wandered around the elven hall he found himself in, he had followed the dwarves to here and watched them get put in there cells. He needed to find a way out but this place was a maze full of twists and turns leading up to the tree tops and all the way down to the ground. Right now he was in a elaborate hall with two chambers on each side, he needed a place to rest, wearing this magic ring was starting to take its toll on him. He walked into the nearest chamber and slipped off the ring once he checked that it was empty.

He looked around the room, it was decorated with every sort of tree imaginable, they stood in the room and their branches made the ceiling. The room was very open and had a balcony, near the balcony was a bed, though the bed looked more like a nest. Branches had sprung out of the wall and had taken over the bed frame and leaves had grown everywhere. He wandered around the room, looking here and there, who ever room this was they really liked the outdoors and weapons he thought.

….…..Man ceril?

Bilbo straightened up, where was that whispering coming from? He had heard it when he was in the forest, it sounded like laughter on the wind.

"Hello." He whispered, leaning forward and listening carefully. He sat there is silence straining to hear if anyone responded. Nothing. He sighed, oh well, he needed a quick rest before he continued his search for a way out. A few minutes later he was nodding off peacefully.

Legolas walked into his room and promptly collapsed onto his bed, he was exhausted now that he was finally home. The dwarf that they questioned was bitter, even though his father offered him help Thorin was more then happy to tell the king to Imrid amrâd ursul. In the end his father placed them in the dungeons. Legolas didn't understand why the dwarf was so adamant about getting to the mountain there was a sleeping dragon that no one wanted to see awaken. What where they going to do once they got there? Dragon hide was impenetrable, no man or dwarf had ever fought a dragon and survive. He heard stories of Doriath and how the White Dragon battled with his people long ago, the dragon was only defeated after death toll had been paid.

.…skorā….

Legolas shot up in his bed, his eyes dashed around the room. From behind one of the tree growing in the room he saw a jacket peaking out, his hand found the dagger that he kept under his pillows. Something was wrong, the trees spoke of an intruder before when the dwarves were captured, now he was getting the same feeling again. He quickly crept to the figure and to his surprise he heard a snore, whatever was in his room decided that it would be a perfect time for a nap.

He studied the intruder, before him was a curly haired child? Not a child, its face showed signs of aging but the height was that of a young one. Legolas nudged the sleeping intruder, he didn't want to scare the little one too much. Its eyes shot open and it backed away slightly.

" Who and what are you?" Legolas asked.