I feel so happy about all the positive feedback this fic is receiving! Thank you to all my readers, especially those who have stuck with this fic since chapter one - you guys know how long I take to update, but you're still here. Thank you for that.

ALONG CAME A SPIDER

By now the sky was shaded with grey clouds, and the last rays of the sun were disappearing behind the horizon. The rest of the hunt had probably already returned to the palace with their kills. Thranduil was growing more concerned by the minute. After he double checked Azriel's wound, they mounted their horses and picked out a path to follow back to the palace. They walked in silence, with Azriel a few paces ahead. She didn't once turn back to look at him. Her golden hair looked dull in the shade, but whenever she tilted her head slightly he caught sight of the bright blue glint of her irises - still crystal clear as ever.

They had barely been travelling a few minutes when the horses began acting up. Azriel, who was already exhausted, didn't pay much attention to it, but Thranduil could sense that something was wrong. He shushed his mare, but no amount of cooing sounds seemed to work. Thranduil tugged on the reigns and Azriel's horse also stopped, as if under his command.

Azriel frowned and tapped her heels against her horse's flank. "What is it?"

Thranduil couldn't tell if she was asking him or the horses.

The trees rustled, and the wind began picking up speed. Thranduil's eyes darted through the high branches of the trees, then to the undergrowth, scanning for anything peculiar. He dismounted his horse in a fluid motion and stepped forward, offering a hand to Azriel to help her down.

"What is the problem?" she asked, keeping her fingers wrapped around the reigns.

"I don't know." Thranduil let his hand drop to his side, and looked around again. "Something isn't right."

Azriel's mouth twisted in annoyance. "Let's just go. It's probably just the spirits getting restless because Azriel is still here. He's a stranger after all."

Thranduil frowned. Her explanation seemed plausible, but he wasn't convinced.

"There's some-"

He stopped short when the forest floor became shrouded in darkness. Azriel looked up, and her eyes widened in horror. Above them, hanging from the low branches, was a massive, hairy black spider. It hissed, the sound causing the tree trunks to shake and quiver. The branches bent and tensed under its weight. Azriel's chest rose and fell steadily and her hands moved from the reigns to the sack on the saddle, where her long sword was sheathed. Thranduil in the meantime was stepping over the undergrowth and back to his horse. The three of them stood in a delicate, glass silence, on the verge of shattering at the slightest whisper. The horses stirred, but they hadn't looked up so they didn't know of the threat just yet.

Just as Thranduil's and Azriel's fingers closed around the hilts of their swords, the spider let out another hiss and dropped from its perch on the tree. When it landed, Thranduil and Azriel were hit with a wave of force. Azriel held out her arms to keep her balance, but the force proved too much and she leaned over too far. Her eyes widened as her foot came out of the stirrup and she fell off the horse. Thranduil himself had been thrown to the ground.

"Azriel!" he yelled, looking over his shoulder for her. For a moment he forgot that she couldn't feel pain. His eyes betrayed all his concern.

She stood up, unfazed. Her sword had fallen out of its sheath a few paces away. Their horses were in a panic, only aggravating the spider even more. They neighed and snorted loudly, rearing up and kicking wildly. Thranduil moved out of the way to the cover of a bush, but the spider was not stupid. It let out another formidable shrill hiss, causing the horses to cower and dart away as fast as their legs would allow.

It was just the three of them.

Through the hissing Thrnaduil could make out words strung into an incomprehensible sentence in the common tongue. Azriel wasted no time in picking up her sword and taking a battle stance. Thranduil raised his broadsword, which reflected the deep red of the spider's eyes. It seemed to spot its own reflection, and let out another hiss in response.

"Filthy elves!" it screeched. This time the words were crystal clear.

Thranduil held his sword across his chest as a shield, and watched Azriel approach. She was completely unguarded, her sword arm hanging by her side. There was a disinterested glaze in her eyes. She stopped abruptly and said something to the spider in a language Thranduil couldn't understand. The spider seemed to understand clearly enough though, because it instantly turned away from Thranduil and towards Azriel.

Another breadth of silence.

Azriel brought her sword up to meet the spider's sudden charge, her arm shuddering against the impact. The spider wasted no time shooting webs out of its mouth, aimed straight at Aza. Thranduil flanked the spider and swung his sword in an arc, cutting through its leathery skin as if through gossamer. The spider reared up, towering several feet over Azriel's hunched body. It's legs kicked out, but Thranduil dodged expertly. Azriel tried to take a step forward, but her foot remained in place. When she looked down she saw it was stuck to the ground, covered in a heap of sticky white web. She pulled harder, but in vain.

"Thranduil, I'm stuck!" she called out, glancing frantically for the prince through the thick undergrowth. The spider's hulking form blocked most of her view.

As Thranduil engaged the spider Azriel worked on cutting her foot free from the tangled fibres. Just as she lifted her foot from the ground she was flung over the undergrowth and into a tree trunk with such force that the bark cracked behind her back. She fell to the ground in a heap, but got up without blinking. The long sleeves of her hunting outfit were beginning to tear and whither. She still couldn't see Thranduil.

Azriel turned her mind to the tree she had just been thrown against. She pulled herself up with one arm onto the lowest branch with ease, and deftly climbed up to the higher ones without effort despite carrying a sword with her. Below her the spider's hairy, leathery body pulsed and flexed with effort against Thranduil's sword. She could see him now, blocked by the spider's legs. The spider was bleeding all over the undergrowth, staining the forest floor black. She extended her sword arm, ready to land a blow on its exposed back.

"Thranduil!"

He looked up for a split second and spotted her up in the tree. He nodded his chin slightly and raised his sword. It would be over in a few seconds.

Without wasting her breath on a battle cry, Azriel leapt from the branch and pulled her blade back, ready to strike on landing. She landed with a soft thud and simultaneously thrust the knife into the spider's back - all the way till the hilt. The spider shrieked and bucked violently, but Azriel held on to the sword tightly enough to stay on its back. What she did not bank on was the spider attacking her while she was perched there.

One of the spider's legs bent over backwards, its claws extended to grab her. Azriel let go of the hilt in a panic, but it was too late. The spider wrapped its claws around her frame. Azriel heard the shearing sound of the claws cutting through her flimsy leather chest guard and shirt as she was flung over the spider's head. She heard Thranduil yell something, probably her name, but the wind was too fast against her ears to make out what he was saying.

When she lifted herself off the ground - for the umpteenth time - the spider lay in a pathetic heap on the ground, Thranduil's sword protruding from its eye. From where she stood she could see the glint of her own knife still embedded in the creature's back. Thranduil came around from behind it just as Azriel began dusting herself off. She looked up to meet his wide eyes.

"What is it?"

She followed his gaze, which was focused on her chin. Her sleeves and collar were ripped to shreds, revealing the skin of her arms, neck, shoulders - everything she had tried to keep hidden. Her skin bunched and puckered, written on with swords and pikes and red-hot iron rods. A myriad of scars recounting her history. She hated it.

"So, Prince," she looked up from her tattered clothes, "now you see me."

As they emerged from the trees the palace gate came into view, and Azriel abruptly pulled on her horse's reins.

"What's wrong?" Thranduil asked, pulling his horse up along side her.

Azriel looked at him. "You know what's wrong."

Thranduil looked down at her arms, his stomach twisting, then looked away. "I would have thought you wouldn't care for such marks."

"Well, you thought wrong." Her voice was icy - more so than he had ever heard before.

Without a word Thranduil pulled off his cloak and leaned to the side to drape it over Azriel's shoulders.

"You won't say anything."

It was not a request, or a question.

"I won't say anything."

They rode on.

Azriel had barely taken ten steps into the hall before the whispering began. She could make out a variety of words and sentences, but the general premise was the same:

"She wearing Prince Thranduil's cloak!"

"Why is she wearing Prince Thranduil's cloak?!"

Thranduil acted as though he were deaf, leaving Azriel and heading to his own chambers without a second thought. He was smarter than she gave him credit for. After a while the excitement died down and the halls were silent again. As Azriel turned into the passage leading to her room, a hand seized the cloak and yanked it backwards. Azriel clutched at the edges, hugging the cloak around her and turning on her heel.

Her eyebrows shot up. Her assailant was Verona.

"What are you doing, Verona?"

Her eyes narrowed. "What am I doing? What are you doing?"

Azriel looked puzzled. "I'm trying to get to my chambers?"

Verona scoffed. "You know what I'm talking about, Aza." She made a pointed jab at Azriel's shoulder. "Why are you wearing Thranduil's cloak?"

"It was cold."

Verona crossed her arms. "No it wasn't. I have been outside all evening."

Azriel rolled her eyes. "Why is this so important to you?"

"It isn't."

Azriel sighed. "If you want the cloak that much I'll give it to you after I change out of my hunting garb, will that make you happy?"

Verona faltered. "You'll give it to me?"

How could she possibly think of giving something like that away? Should I be angry or grateful?

"Yes, that's what I said."

"He didn't give it to you because you were cold." Verona's voice was less serious now, but still accusing.

"No, he didn't."

Verona's eyes widened, and though she tried to hide the expression of hurt, she couldn't.

Azriel chuckled. "You really think it's something like that? You elves are as simple as the basest men."

"... It isn't?"

Azriel's amused eyes softened. "You claim to know him so well, but are so quick to accuse. Perhaps you should aim your questions at him and not me."

She left Verona standing in the hall, speechless.

Yeah so... This was short...