I'm so sorry I haven't updated in a very long time. I'm back at school, and haven't had much time to write.

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I am not JRR Tolkien. I'm a teenage girl that happens to be obsessed with Middle-Earth, not a dead genius.

Chapter 7: Evil Questions

"A game?" the Hobbit squeaked. "What type of game do you speak of, Master Elf?"

Bilbo remembered the last game he had partaken in with a creature that was not his race. The creature Gollum, who had tried and failed to trick him with riddles in the darkness.

"Not really a game, more of an agreement," Legolas clarified. "I ask a question, you answer and ask me a question. It is fair, that way."

Bilbo sighed in relief.

"But no lies, mind you," the elf continued. "I can tell if you lie."

Bilbo nodded, smiling. "May I start?"

"You already have," Legolas replied, smirking. Bilbo groaned, annoyed at the fair elf's trickery. "My turn. Why are you in the forests of Mirkwood?"

"Travelling. Why do you care?"

"Curiosity. You said you were a Hobbit." Legolas paused, unsure of how to phrase his question. "What exactly is a Hobbit?"

Bilbo laughed quietly. "You did not find much in those books of yours, I see. We Hobbits are Shire-folk, from the west. We're mortal, with long lives. Not as long as dwarves, but longer than Men. Amandil said you were a Prince?"

Legolas sighed, closing his eyes. His hands wandered over the embroidery stitched on the edge of his tunic. "Unfortunately, yes. My father is the Elvenking, Thranduil. Where are you headed on your journey?"

Bilbo paused. "Somewhere. Why 'unfortunately'?"

"My father is not a exactly a caring creature. He is still wrought with grief over the disappearance of my mother, his mate. Since then, he has pushed everyone who was remotely close to him away." He paused, shaking his head, not meeting the hobbits eyes. "It's not important. Who are you traveling with? The road becomes more dangerous every passing hour, especially for someone of your stature."

Bilbo was in an especially trusting mood; this was the most he had talked since Bombur fell into the river. "I have traveled with Gandalf the Gray, and a fair amount of dwarves. Stinky lot, if you ask me. You are not the first elven realm we have traveled through. What makes you so different from the elves of Rivendell?"

Legolas chuckled. "Difference in practice and culture comes from living in isolation. The peoples of the Greenwood have not talked with the elves of Rivendell or Lothlorien in many a year. So, you have seen Gandalf. Where is he, if not with you?"

"He has often disappeared from our company."

Elf and Hobbit continued to talk until the wee hours of the morning. It was warm still, though Lavasor, Harvest Day and the last great feast before winter, were fast approaching.

Legolas told legends, stories of his childhood, and histories of great men and elves. He confirmed Gandalf's mention of how the game of golf was invented by Bandobras Took, the Bullroarer, seeing has the elf had witnessed it. He taught the hobbit how to properly hold his blade, newly named Sting, and some Sindarin words that might prove useful to him.

Bilbo answered so many questions about Hobbits and their culture that he was sure Legolas could easily become a Hobbit if he were a bit shorter and put away his weapons. He talked about Gandalf and Thorin and the rest of the dwarves, and tried to put his experience at Rivendell into words that could never do the city justice, for the elf had never seen Imladris and was curious.

Dawn formed over the distant treetops, turning the sky red.

"The sky is always red these days," Legolas murmured. "Blood has been spilled this night, and every night for too long a time."

"Your forests are dangerous," Bilbo sighed. "And Gandalf mentioned an evil stirring in the south, in a place called Dol Guldor."

"The Hill of Sorcery. Yes, an evil stirs there, known but unknown to us. It has been there since I was a small child. It grows stronger, though, a blight upon our woods."

The Burglar tried to disguise his panic at the mention of the evil growing stronger. "Gandalf mentioned a name … I think he called this evil 'The Necromancer'."

"Odd." Legolas frowned. "This evil is far older than any living race upon Middle Earth. A follower of Morgoth Bauglir, probably. But that could be any of Iluvatar's creations," Legolas mused. "Another question for another time. The doors of the cavern-palace will open soon. I must go back before someone wonder where I have been."

Bilbo bowed his head in resignation. He did not want to go back into the stone palace, for many a week he had longed to smell the breeze and feel the grass under his feet. "Yes, we must go back."

Perhaps Thorin and Bilbo could make progress on the nonexistent plan to get out of the Elvenking's dungeons with the new knowledge Bilbo had of elves.

A/N with minor spoilers: For those who have yet to read the Silmarillion, Iluvatar is the creator god of the universe that Middle-Earth happens to be in. Morgoth Bauglir was the original Dark Lord, created by Iluvatar to be his greatest creation, but that didn't quite work out, because he wasn't a happy guy. Morgoth was defeated by the Valar, or the other spirits that were created along with Morgoth, and he was cast into the Void, never to return until the end of time. He had plenty of followers, including Sauron, who is the Necromancer in the Hobbit. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to Private Message me, and I'll attempt to answer them.