Hello, everyone! I know this chapter is long, long overdue so I just want to apologize. I've been really busy lately and have had a bit of writers block. But I will say again, that I promise I will finish this story. So, this chapter includes a lot about Legolas and Amariel, and hints a little about their history together. I also out a bit of Bilbo's POV in here. Anyway, before I give away my whole chapter, please, please review and I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit or any of the characters, only Amariel and some insignificant others.

Chapter Eleven: A Reunion Of The Hearts

APOV

Stomp by stomp, Amariel stormed her way up to the blonde elf that had stolen years from her life and spat them back at her as if they were nothing. He did not notice her coming as he was too busy insulting Gloin. Her sweat boiled and her temper was flaring. Rage stampeded through her body. The dwarves, one by one, had started to stare, but she ignored them. She barely had a chance to think of what she was going to say to him. But then again, they always said that actions spoke better than words. As she came up to him, she pursed her lips and raised back her hand. She threw her hand forward as hard as she could, whipping it across his face. The crack of skin contacting skin echoed into the forest, causing everyone to become silent in shock. Vibrations of pain started in her palm and spread all the way to her fingertips. Her palm was bright red, the same red mark that matched the one on the elf's right cheek. He stared at her with his blue eyes wide, as his hand slowly made it to his crimson cheek. Amariel perhaps should've felt some kind of regret. But she didn't. Not one bone in her body could squeeze out a drop of guilt for her actions. The anger still coursed through her body, but had died down a bit after the satisfying feeling of the slap. But as much satisfaction as it was, she didn't feel as though she had done a good enough job of expressing her hatred toward him. Again, she rose her hand, and brought it down harshly toward the same cheek, but this time, Legolas caught her wrist firmly in his hand before she could hit him. He glared coldly at her. She tried to struggle out of his grip, but it was too tight. While she was in this helpless position, her eyes couldn't help but wander over him, after not seeing the elf for numerous years. He had a toned complexion, deep, startling blue eyes, high cheekbones, full, light pink lips, and long, sleek blonde hair. The elf wore well-crafted steel armour, leather boots, and carried his bow, arrows, and twin knives. When she looked up to him again, she realized that he too was examining her. His glare had been washed away and was replaced with a perplexed and bewildered expression.

"Amariel?" he whispered eventually. Many moons ago, she would've adored to hear him speak her name like that. But now she felt nothing but loathing and betrayal.

"Legolas," she almost spat back, venom dripping from her every word. She then sneered with a voice that was not familiar to anyone there. "Did you miss me?"

"Amariel, why are you acting like this?" he asked. "What did I ever do to you?" The She-elf scoffed at his 'innocent' words.

"'What did I did I ever to you?' Well, I'll tell you! You sent me away when I needed you the most! Just because of your lying father, Nin gwerianneg! (You betrayed me!) You threw our friendship away like it meant nothing, and stomped on it, just for good measure! You shot a million arrows into my heart without giving a second thought! You chose lies over everything we had built together! And you now ask me what you ever did to me!" Amariel screamed at Legolas, her temper getting the better of her.

"Farn! (Enough!)" the elf ordered, and she fell silent, but continued to glower at him. "Úpadion, restrain her." The elf began to walk over to the auburn-haired She-elf, leaving Amariel behind held by a dark-haired male elf. "Gyrth in yngyl bain? (Are the spiders dead?)" he queried.

"Ennorner gwanod in yngyl na nyryn. Engain nar, (Yes, but more will come. They're growing bolder,)" the She-elf replied. Amariel's eyes focused on Legolas, watching his every move with distaste. She had given up trying to struggle out of the male elf, Úpadion's, grip, for her spider bite had made her weak. The She-elf could feel the numbness and bruising growing on her back and dwarves were sending her wary, confused expressions, especially Kili and Thorin, who were the most surprised at her actions. But Thorin was soon distracted when an elf started to search through his coat and found his sword, Orcrist. The elf smirked and walked over and handed it to Legolas. Thorin glowered and Amariel gritted her teeth.

"Echannen i vegil hen vin Gondolin. Magannen nan Gelydh, (This is an ancient Elvish blade. Forged by my kin)," the blonde elf marvelled while inspecting the glimmering blade. His eyes then fell upon Thorin. "Where did you get this?"

"It was given to me," Thorin answered truthfully, anger in his words.

"Not just a thief, but a liar as well," Legolas insulted, pointing the sword at the dwarf. Resentment flooded through her. He may have hurt her in the past, but he would not hurt her friends. They were worth a hundred times more than him!

"Ci orch 'waur! (You are a dirty orc!), Gi fuion! (I am disgusted with you!)" Amariel yelled at him, having enough of his insults.

"Silence!" Legolas ordered, but she was not finished. As Legolas walked toward her, she spat at his feet. Úpadion, obviously having enough of the She-elf's disrespect, punched her in the back, making her fall to the ground in agony. A scream escaped her mouth, as he'd punched her where the stupid spider had left its bite. She lifted her hand to her head, wincing. Her back was throbbing excruciatingly. She attempted to breath in and out slowly and heavily, but it came out more like gasps or rasps. Amariel felt lines of blood trickle down her back and bit her bottom lip in pain. Her body suddenly felt so heavy, as if she was wearing chain-mail, and unresponsive. She couldn't move, and she didn't want to move. Still on the dirt ground, she curled up into a ball, the world blurring into a flicker of dim lights and strange, moving colours. For a moment there was blinding light, then blackness closed in.

...

First, she heard voices. An echoing sound that she could not comprehend. Then she smelt something beautiful; the scent of fresh forest leaves and sweet water. It was so familiar but she couldn't seem to remember why. As the voices grew clearer and merged into one voice, Amariel felt her throat turn into the driest desert and her body, especially her back ache. That was when her memory flooded back, like rushing river or like when the sun reappears from behind a cloud. And although her eyes were still closed, she knew her hands had clenched into fists; not only because of the pain, but of the anger that returned to flow in her blood. Struggling, Amariel forced her eyelids open. It was all a blur of colour, before it became visible enough for her to perceive. Her eyes grew large as she saw her surroundings. Memories consumed her brain, but she forced them out. The room was so familiar; she had been in there many times before, hundreds of years ago. It used to be a room of laughter, safety, warmth, happiness, and... love. But now it was a room of regret, anger, betrayal, and sadness. It was a large chamber with a comfortable, elegant, and well-made bed, a bedside table, and a balcony that she knew lead out to a stunning view of Mirkwood forest. It was Legolas' bedroom. Amariel tried to sit up, and to her surprise, although her back hurt with unreal agony, she was able to. She was lying on a sofa with a soft silk cover. The She-elf twisted her head to see what was behind her when a stern, slightly cold voice stopped her.

"Do not move. It will only worsen the pain." Amariel grimaced, but not because of the soreness, but because of who the voice belonged to. Legolas. The elf noticed Amariel's body stiffen, and he smirked.

"What do you want?" she hissed, venom dripping. Legolas walked so he was in her view, and she couldn't help but see how breath-taking he was. She gazed into those deep blue eyes that she found so much love in before, that now held disdain and another emotion she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Best be thankful, Amariel," came his frosty reply. A shiver ran down her spine as he said her name. She gritted her teeth together at his arrogance. "I have given you my aid, when really you deserve nothing." Her eyes narrowed at him. It was true, he hadn't given her to his father yet, which had probably made her life last a little longer, but that didn't excuse him from his other crimes. A sigh escaped her lips and she rolled her eyes.

"Does your father know?" Amariel asked. It's not like his answer mattered much, as she didn't trust him one bit. Not after what he did to her. The handsome elf shook his head slightly, his intense eyes still staring at her.

"No, and it would do both of us well if it remained that way," he answered curtly, but then noticed my confused face and added. "I have gotten myself into a large amount of trouble in keeping you hidden from my father; he is not an entirely merciful man. Amariel bit her lip and gave a quick nod, but there was still a few questions that remained in her mind.

"Where are my friends?" A slight scoff came from Legolas' mouth as she said this.

"You mean the dwarves? I had never thought you, Amariel Lórien, would ever bring yourself so low as to associate with dwarves." He spat out the name 'dwarves' as if it was some foul drink or poison. "But nevertheless I shall answer your question. They are in the dungeons locked up securely behind bars while Oakenshield speaks to the King." Amariel frowned at this news. Her friends were all locked up, and she knew how unbreakable those elven cells were. Thorin would have near no chance of reasoning with the King with their history and both their short tempers. Legolas saw this and that annoying smirk entered back onto his face. Glaring back at him, she decided to change the subject, even though she had no idea why she was making conversation with him in the first place. He was a traitor, a liar, and thief. He had stolen her heart all those long years ago; but the problem was, he had never given it back.

"How long will I stay here?" she asked, not looking him in the eye. Legolas sat in his bed, still remaining poised, before answering her.

"Until, I find it suitable for you to leave." Was his short reply.

"You don't own me! I will leave on my own accord, and I will be taking my friends with me, with or without your or the King's consent!" she shouted, losing her temper at his arrogance. He was never this ignorant before. However, her outburst only amused him.

"Temper, temper. What a patient elf you are!" he replied sarcastically. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pursed together.

"You make me want to slap you again so bad!" hissed Amariel, anger in her lapis eyes. Legolas chuckled quietly, and Amariel tried to ignore how beautiful it sounded.

"Your slap did not even bruise me," he said matter-a-factly. Now it was Amariel's turn to smirk, as she glimpsed the red mark on his perfect cheek.

"Might want to take a look at your reflection, Greenleaf, it says otherwise." They glowered at each other for what seemed like forever until the elf decided to break the silence.

"Admit it, Amariel, you still love me." His words were so sudden and shocking that all the She-elf could do was let her mouth fall open, leaving her gaping like a fish. This made a satisfied smile enter Legolas' face. When she finally managed to find her voice she could only let out a stutter.

"W—What?! N—No! Never!" And as the blonde-haired elf began to laugh at her stuttering, her cheeks flushed scarlett. Embarrassment flooded through her, and her eyes grew fiery in irritation. "Get out! Get out now! Do you always have to be so conceited? Glenn hi! (Go now!)" Legolas rolled his eyes, but nevertheless obeyed, and left her alone in his room. Slowly, she stood up and looked in the intricate mirror, hardly recognizing the She-elf that was staring back at her. Her face was plastered with dirt and dust, her once white-blonde locks had became a bundle of knots, and a horrible grey colour, and her clothes had spider webs glued onto them, they were ripped and needed a desperate wash. She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and for one of the first times regretted coming on this journey; it made her remember her past that she had taken almost a lifetime to make herself forget. Sighing, she turned around only to gasp in utter shock and bewilderment. For standing there, before her very eyes, was Bilbo Baggins. "B—Bilbo?" she asked and the hobbit gave a small smile. He looked puffed as if he had been done a lot of running. Then she remembered that she hadn't seen him anywhere when the elves had captured them. "Why are you here? When did you get here?"

"I got here only a few moments ago," he panted, bent over with his hands on his knees. She breathed out a sigh of relief when she found out that he hadn't heard her and Legolas' conversation. I'm going to try and free the dwarves but I'm going to need your help." Amariel nodded, eager to escape this place as soon as possible.

"Okay, so what is the plan?" she questioned and he grinned in response.

An hour or so later, Bilbo had gone to plan in more detail exactly how the company would escape. Amariel found herself bored, just sitting on the sofa, staring into space, so ignoring Legolas' orders, she left his bedroom to roam the kingdom she had once called home. Of course, she would have to be careful not to be caught, as the penalty would most certainly be death.
There were perhaps hundreds of hallways and rooms in the palace so, consequently, it was easy for a foreigner to get lost, but luckily Amariel was not so could find her way around just fine. She was just passing through a particular hallway when she heard two elves talking. Cautiously peeking around the corner with her head, so not to get caught, she saw that it was the pretty auburn-haired elf and King Thranduil himself.

"That fortress lies beyond our borders. Keep our lands clear of those foul creatures, that is your task," said the cold voice of the King.

"And when we drive them off, what then? Will they not spread to other lands?" queried the gorgeous elf, valiantly. Even Amariel admired her caring, alert nature.

"Other lands are not my concern. The fortunes of the world will rise and fall, but here in this kingdom, we will endure," he answered curtly. Amariel's eyes narrowed him; he hadn't changed. He was still heartless and cruel to those who were innocent. The She-elf nodded her head and curtsied before turning to leave.

"Legolas said you fought well today," came the voice of the King, making the She-elf pause in her walk and Amariel's heart skip a beat. Of course, Legolas had moved on, and why shouldn't he? After all, the thing that they had once turned out to not be a thing at all. Their love was nothing to him. Her love was nothing to him. Then a thought hit her: why was she even thinking this? It was not like she still had a thing for the blonde elf, he could go and marry a orc for all she cared—right? She clenched her teeth and fists, why was everything so confusing?! As the elf turned around again, Amariel spotted a small smile on her face. "He has grown very fond of you." Why did those words hurt so much? The auburn-haired elf looked away, shocked and embarrassed.

"I assure you, my lord, Legolas thinks of me as no more than a captain of the guard," she replied as politely and suitably as she could.

"Perhaps he did once. Now, I'm not so sure." Thranduil walked past the bewildered girl to pour himself a cup of drink, while stayed rooted in her spot, looking worried.

"I do not think you would allow your son to pledge himself to a lowly Silvan elf," she said, choosing her words carefully. Pledge himself?! Amariel's nails dug further into the flesh of her closed fist.

"No, you are right. I would not. Still, he cares about you. Do not give him hope where there is none." His words cut the gorgeous elf sharper than a knife, she could see it on her anguished face. With a final look behind her, Amariel began to walk back up to Legolas' room as quietly as she could, feeling much the same as the auburn-haired elf.

BPOV

The tip of the sun could be seen glimmering from above the forest, signalling that it was nearing morning, and Bilbo was exhausted. All throughout the night he was having to wear the Ring on his finger to hide from patrolling eyes. And even though the Ring was extremely helpful, invisibility wasn't a very calming or peaceful place to be in. In fact, it was outright horrible. The hobbit rubbed his dreary eyes and waddled away from the window and toward where he thought he remembered to be the room Amariel was staying in. He was still quite perplexed by why she didn't get locked up with the dwarves. Was it because she was an elf like them? But he had seen her slap that elf prince in the face. Surely they wouldn't take that lightly? He pushed those thoughts away when he arrived at the bedroom door, and found that it was strangely unlocked and slightly ajar. He peaked his invisible head through the door and noticed that the room was empty. That's peculiar, he mused. Was she allowed to wander the kingdom freely as well? Sighing to himself, he stepped back out of the room and headed toward the cellars. Where was she? She had agreed to help with getting the dwarves out of their prisons, but how she she supposed to know what to do if she wasn't here for him to inform her?

After trying to find the cellars for at least and hour, consistently getting lost in the labyrinth of hallways and chambers, Bilbo reached his destination. The lighting in the cellar was dim and the strong smell of wine consumed his nostrils. A couple of elves were walking around wine barrels, speaking to each other, but luckily they could not see him as he had his golden Ring around his finger. As one drunk from a large flagon, making Bilbo catch sight of a ring of dungeon keys in his pale hand.

"We're running out of drink," rang the clear voice of one of the elven guards. "These empty barrels should have been sent back to Esgaroth hours ago. The bargeman will be waiting for them."

"Say what you like about our ill-tempered king, but he has excellent taste in wine. Come, Elros, try it," said the elf, drowning down a gulp of the red liquid.

"I have the dwarves in my charge," pointed out Elros, reluctantly. The other elf took the keys from him and hung them up on the hook on the wall.

"They're locked up, where can they go?" he sneered before, the two of them walked away to sit down at the round wooden table. Bilbo couldn't help but smile; this was going to be easier than expected. Quickly, the hobbit gave a glance over at the 13 empty barrels before jogging up to where he thought the dungeons were. As he ran, he couldn't help but wonder again where Amariel was. If she didn't turn up soon, they would have no choice but to leave without her; something Bilbo despised very much. Now Gandalf was gone, Amariel was the one person he could always count on and look up to whenever he needed to. He didn;t know how he would cope without her. Finally, he neared the dungeons and heard the dwarves, like usual, complaining.

"I'll wager the sun's on the rise. It must be nearly dawn," the voice of Bofur said solemnly. Bilbo quickened his pace ad sneaked through the entrance and up the well-crafted rock stairs.

"We're never gonna reach the mountain, are we?" groaned Ori, rather depressed. The hobbit grasped this moment to slip of his Ring and dangle the keys in front of Ori's cell.

"Not stuck in here, you're not!" As the dwarves recognized the familiar voice, a thankful cheer erupted. A pang of pride hit him, before he realized the situation they were in. "Shhh! There are guards nearby!" he shushed. Bilbo unlocked Thorin's cell and let him out, earning a curt nod of gratitude. He then proceeded to let all the dwarves out of their various cells, resulting in them to chuckle gleefully at their good fortune. When everyone was free, some of the dwarves start walking in a certain direction.

"The stairs. You first, Ori!" Dwalin said hoarsely.

"Not that way, here! Follow me!" said Bilbo in urgent whispering. He lead the dwarves through the confusing halls of the Woodland Realm, while they whispered indistinctly. Eventually what was left of the company found themselves in the wine cellar. The elves were now sound asleep around the table, with several empty bottles of wine lying in front of them. "This way," the hobbit ordered, while leading them further in.

"I don't believe it; we're in the cellars!" Kili whispered, slightly annoyed.

"You were supposed to be leading us out, not further in!" Bofur agreed with an irritated tone.

"I know what I'm doing," he replied, getting irked with their ungrateful attitude, but Bofur just shushed him and they continued to walk. "This way." They crept into the large room in which several barrels were stacked sideways down the middle of it. "Everyone, climb into the barrels, quickly!"

"Are you mad?! They'll find us!" Dwalin argued.

No, no, they won't, I promise you. Please, please, you must trust me!" Bilbo said exasperated. The dwarves milled around as they tried to decide, when they heard a commotion in the distance. The hobbit stared desperately at Thorin, making him give in and say:

"Do as he says!" Only giving a second to share perplexed looks, each of the dwarves climbed into a barrel. Bilbo walked along, counting to make sure all the dwarves have been accounted for.

"What do we do now?" Bofur asked, peeking his head out. Soon, the rest of them stuck their heads out too and watched the hobbit as he waddled toward a lever in the ground. He thought for a second before answering.

"Hold your breath."

"Hold my breath? What do you mean?" But before Bofur could finish, Bilbo pulled the lever, and the part of the floor that the barrels were on tilted downward into an opening, in which they rolled out of and fell several feet into a gushing river that ran beneath the Realm. The dwarves yelled and shrieked in shock and surprise as they tumbled with splashing noises into the water. When the floor returned to its former state, Bilbo triumphantly looked around, then realized that he had forgotten to get himself out. The elves sleeping around the table stirred and began to wake up, making Bilbo gulp. What was he going to do?

APOV

Sunrise was drawing near when Amariel was only a few hallways away from the blonde-elf's room. Bilbo should be arriving soon to explain the finishing touches of the escape plan to her. She knew she should concentrate on that, but her mind didn't seem to be able to settle. Thranduil's conversation with the auburn-haired elf, which she had decided to nickname 'Caran' which meant 'Red' in Sindarin elvish, kept replaying in her head. Each time she thought of it, a sick, throbbing feeling entered her chest; and the worst part was that Amariel had no-idea what it was.
Shoving the thoughts away, she reached the beautifully carved door that lead on to Legolas' room, and slowly placed her hand on the handle and gently pushed it open just enough so she could see if the King's son was in there. Fortunately, he was not; for if he was, she could be in a lot of trouble for wandering around without his consent. But just before she could walk through, two hands grasped onto her waist from behind. Her breath hitched.

"Greenleaf," she whispered, while slowly turning around to face the sinister but incredibly attractive elf.

"Your senses are not as alert as they used to be," Legolas replied with a slight smirk. "You were so deep in thought that you walked right past me. I am sincerely disappointed, I thought my presence affected you more." She glowered at him, her eyes cold.

"Well, clearly you thought wrong," she replied in a venomous tone, only half telling the truth.

"Then why are your cheeks the colour of roses?" he answered. At once, Amariel's hands flew up to her cheeks and found them very warm, which for some reason made her even more annoyed with the elf prince.

"Why are you even here?" Amariel asked, trying to change the subject from herself.

"I came to check on you, and a good thing too as I found the room vacant," he said, his smirk vanished and his tone stern. Amariel bit her lip, preparing herself for a scolding. "I warned you not to wander the kingdom. You're very lucky the king did not find you. He is not as merciful as I am."

"I wouldn't go all the way to calling you 'merciful'. From my experience you've been quite the opposite." As Amariel said this, Legolas' eyes grew dark; but not a menacing dark, it was an almost sorrowful one.

"If you are referring to what happened all those years ago, I had no choice."

"Of course you had a choice! Everyone has a choice!" she yelled, her temper again getting the better of her. Glancing around, Legolas, took hold of her arm and pulled her down a flight of stairs away from the room. Amariel gave little fight by this gesture for mainly two reasons. The first being that she knew that if she was to put up a fight, Legolas would win as he was much stronger than her, especially now she was still recovering from her spider bite. And the second reason was incredibly strange being that a tiny part of her rather liked Legolas' hands touching her, but again, that part was very small. Eventually, the elves came to a stop in a dark, desolated area lit only by a lantern on the corner of the wall. Legolas immediately let go of her arm, and gazed at her intently. She swallowed, and found her throat dry.

"I will repeat: there was no choice, not for me."

"So hurting someone who loved you greatly was your only choice?" Amariel almost spat, eyes flaring.

"You said 'loved' in past tense," he stated. It wasn't a question but it was clear that he wanted an answer.

"Yes," the She-elf breathed, her anger calming down and a humourless mood replacing it. "What ever we had in the past is now long gone... forever." With those final words spoken, she turned and walked away, leaving Legolas staring after her blankly.

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