Thank you to my very very lovely beta, Anarithilen.

Note: Reminder that the Ring has the property of allowing its wearer to understand other languages - hence Bilbo understood the spiders and elves.

Chapter 8: The Sons of the Elvenking.

Bilbo found that by following one elf in particular, he got to know his way around the stronghold and also got to know a lot of elves. His particular elf was called Legolas. He was popular and flirtatious, the equivalent of a tweenager, Bilbo guessed, and had rather a lot of romantic interests.

There was Miriel, the girl who brought food to the dwarves in the evenings, another one brought food in the morning, …. And an entirely different girl brought food at midday. Legolas was romantically involved, interested or in love with all of them…And some of the men too…Which was an eye opener to Bilbo and no mistake.

In fact, one evening, Bilbo had wandered off and now was finding his way back to Legolas' rooms. He almost bumped into one of Legolas' closest friends, Anglach, and decided to join him, albeit slightly behind him and silent. They passed another elf, Ceredir, who Bilbo had got to know and rather liked for he was a guard of the dwarves but never got cross or unkind, but regarded them with slight bemusement.

Anglach and Ceredir passed the time of day and Anglach ran lightly up the shallow limestone steps towards the quarters Legolas lived in. Here they were very close to the surface, and the passageway was light and airy, for every now and again a huge opening was in the wall and one could look out over the forest. It seemed the hillside was full of caverns and the cliff walls were pocked with caves and opening which had been carved by the elves into arched windows and balconies. There were many waterfalls although they were narrow streams of silver water and not at all like the roaring torrents of Rivendell. This passageway to Legolas' rooms was particularly light and there were many openings. Anglach lived nearby.

They heard a light laugh that Bilbo recognised as Legolas' and then another, a girl's laugh. That, he thought, was probably Miriel for she and Legolas had been flirting outrageously and she had been making eyes at him all the evening before.

Ahead of them then they saw Legolas. He wore his customary green suede tunic and boots and his long blond hair swung down his back. It was lighter than Miriel's. She leaned against him and wound her arm about his waist.

Anglach hesitated at the precise moment Bilbo did, and then someone else came into view. He was not quite as tall as Legolas and had long black hair. Bilbo did not know him but Anglach breathed, 'Lossar!'. His voice filled with alarm.

Ah, this was Miriel's sweetheart as Bilbo understood and he caught his breath, for surely the man would be furious at catching his beloved with Legolas?

But to his astonishment, Bilbo saw Lossar step slowly towards Legolas and instead of demanding to know what was going on, he slid his hand in beneath Legolas' tunic and judging by the way Legolas gasped and bit his lip, it was not an unfriendly gesture or indeed unwelcome. Miriel laughed then and pulled Legolas towards her, sliding his arms closer about his waist. He looked down at her and then his eyes fluttered towards Lossar who leaned in and kissed Legolas.

'Oh Elbereith's tits,' muttered Anglach.

Bilbo was shocked at the language but he had heard much worse from Galion by now for the Ring had certainly meant he could understand everything the elves said, much as he had understood the spiders. He had therefore become rather immune to the swearing, but he could not tear his eyes away from the sight of the three elves entwined now and oblivious to all else. Legolas' hand was fumbling for the doorknob of his rooms but seemed unable to tear himself away from first Miriel's lips, and then Lossar's.

Behind them came a heavy tread, heavy for an elf but light as a feather for a dwarf at least and Anglach and Bilbo, who could not help but be concerned for his elf-friend as he thought of Legolas, spun round.

The words Anglach uttered then would have made even Galion blush but before Bilbo could put his hands over his ears, a regal looking elf came into view. His eyes were downcast and reading from a scroll in one hand and he strode up the steps, two at a time, not even looking up. His hair was golden, heavy and upon his hand was a rich ruby set in antique gold upon his finger. Another smaller one of emerald say on his other finger and he was taller than any elf Bilbo had yet seen, and powerful. His brows were very dark and he wore a crimson tunic that reached his knees, dark brown boots of fine leather scrolled and embossed, and his long heavy gold hair was caught in the same braids as Legolas. This, Bilbo recognised, was the same elf who had worn a crown of autumn leaves and berries and sat upon a wooden chair at the feast the dwarves had blundered into. This, he thought, must be Thranduil, the Elven King.

Anglach sprang in front of him and the king looked up in surprise.

'Anglach?' His voice was resonant and deep, it seemed to reach into Bilbo's soul…And the Ring thrummed, reverberated at the sound, sent a whisper of excitement into the pit of Bilbo's stomach.

He felt an immense urge to take the Ring from his finger and fall before this man on his knees. His hand was already on the Ring and about to pull it from his finger when the elf suddenly looked straight at him.

He could see him! Bilbo scrambled away, but the passageway was smooth and there were no corners or niches. There was only…

The door to Legolas' room was just closing. It seemed he had managed to get the door open and the three elves had fallen into the room just before they were seen. Bilbo scrambled in after them and lay panting on the floor, catching his breath, holding his own hand and clutching the Ring.

'…Eru, the king!' Miriel was gasping. She wriggled out of Legolas' grasp and backed away.

Bilbo felt like going with her- that was Thranduil, the king!

'…is outside, not in here,' Legolas panted. His eyes were half closed in lust and Bilbo could see an impressive tenting in his breeches. 'Come here,' he said and grabbed her hand, pulled her to him and kissed her deeply. She struggled and pushed him away.

'Stop it, Legolas. The King is out there! Anglach is with him. He is bound to come in!'

She flew to the large open casement and leaned out. She threw her leg over the sill and Legolas darted forwards and caught her before she leapt out.

'Wait. There is another way if you are really determined to leave,' he cried.

'I am,' Miriel said flatly. 'I am not waiting around here for the King to catch me with his son and his guard.' Lossar grinned at Legolas, who grinned back.

'He won't come in, 'Legolas said. 'He wouldn't. Not unless I invite him.'

Miriel seemed to yield a little and Legolas pushed his advantage. 'I promise you. He is very careful to give me my privacy. He knows how hard it is in the South,' he said plaintively, winningly. 'He knows how lonely it is and how you have to have something warm to hold onto, to remind you why you are fighting.'

Miriel's shoulders dropped a little and she tilted her head slightly, listening. Legolas pushed his hand through her hair and watched her face, while Lossar stretched out on the wide bed and kicked off his boots. He pulled the thong from his hair and let it cascade freely over his shoulders and loosened the ties to his shirt, pulling it slightly open.

'Miriel,' he called softly. 'Come here.' She shifted and glanced at Legolas from under her lashes and then at Lossar.

'Go on, 'Legolas said and gave her the slightest push. She went and even as she knelt on the bed, Legolas leapt beside her and they all went tumbling down together.

Bilbo turned away, his face hot and red with embarrassment, but he could not block out the moans and cries and whispered… no, the yelps of lust and desire. The moans and panting ecstasy.

The King of course, did not enter the room. And Bilbo had to just sit and wait until it was all over.

It did give him time to think…as if he did not already have enough of that.

So, Legolas was the King's son. That surprised him for the elf never acted like a Prince.. Not that Bilbo knew how Princes were supposed to act for they had no Princes in the Shire. And no one called Legolas Prince, or Highness or even my lord…Bilbo mused. But that was the same with the King's other son, Thalos.

Bilbo had managed to creep into a feast once, or it seemed like a feast to Bilbo anyway. A lot of elves had been eating and drinking and laughing and singing. Although the King had not been there but Galion, his butler, had been. And Legolas and his friend. Anglach had been there. They had all been very drunk. It had made Bilbo feel a little lonely and he had gone back to see the dwarves then but they were asleep and Bilbo had given up and sneaked down tot he kitchen to steal food.

It was that that had upset him the most; a burglar he could cope with, but it was the word sneak that he disliked. It reminded him of Gollum for some reason…and he had taken off the Ring then and found a corner in which to hide… but he felt naked and vulnerable. The elves' eyes were piercing and sharp and he felt too anxious without the Ring… it almost hummed in his pocket until he put it on again.

Now he could have made as much noise as he liked and no one would have heard him. The three elves were far too busy. So he walked quietly about Legolas' room. It was light and airy with long shafts in the roof that let green -tinged light pour through from the forest. There were few furnishings or decoration; a large wooden chest, a looking glass, and avery large bed which contained the three elves more than easily. Bilbo tried to avoid that. He looked instead at the white knives in an ornate and scrolled harness that was carefully stowed in a rack that seemed made for it. There was a bow too, long and beautifully made. And a sling that made Bilbo's hadns itch for he had beena crack shot in Hobbiton and won many a fete competition between the local lads in Bywater and the Smials. He sighed and felt even lonelier.

'What am I doing on this quest?' he asked himself. 'Why in all of the Shire did Gandalf pick me?'

A sudden image burst into his mind then...

Bilbo the Great. Bilbo, Dragon-Slayer. Thief of the Mountain. Returning from his great adventure laden with gold and jewels. Dressed like a Prince by the Dwarves of Erebor, a mail shirt gleaming under his rich tunic, gold rings upon his fingers, emeralds about his neck.

All this can be yours if you choose...

Suddenly there was a flurry and a head poked up from the sheets. Legolas struggled up, his hair mussed and sticking up. His eyes scanned the room,sharp and alert. Bilbo froze.

'What?' a female voice demanded. Miriel emerged then, flushed and lips full and moist. Her golden hair was ruffled and unkempt but she looked lovely for it even so.

But Legolas had struggled out of the sheets and stood naked as the day he was born. His long, lean body was painted, Bilbo saw, with swirls and curlicues and abstracts in a wild whirl of colour. Bilbo stared for he had never seen anything like it. There was a long trail of colour and pattern that started at his shoulder and spread over one side of his chest, his heart, like a benediction. It curled about his hard, lean torso and coiled about his hips, his thigh, trailed down one leg. Like a serpent had curled about him and leaned its head over his shoulder. But it was rich and pwerful. A totem perhaps? A sign of power? But now Legolas strode straight towards Bilbo, his long green eyes fixed on the space above Bilbo's head. He stopped suddenly and turned abruptly.

Now Lossar too was sitting upright. He pulled his hair back.

'Did you feel it too?' Legolas demanded.

'I felt something,' Lossar grinned lecherously and stroked himself but Legolas frowned.

'What?' Lossar was more alert now. He threw the sheets off himself and swung his long legs over the side of the bed.

Legolas looked confused. He stepped lightly towards Bilbo and then stopped. Bilbo froze, shrank back against the rack of weapons.

'I..I felt something...A disturbance in the Song,' Legolas said uncertainly. 'It was like being in the South.' He licked his lips and frowned. 'It feels...greasy. The Air. When the Nazgûl have passed through.' He turned towards Lossar who now stood. He too had markings upon his body; they were not as rich or complex as Legolas' but beautiful and ornate nonetheless.

'I have never been close to Dol Guldûr,' he said with concern. He shook his head. 'I see nothing...hear nothing...'

As soon as he said that, Legolas cut his hand through the air demanding silence. Bilbo held his breath. Legolas leaned forwards, listening intently.

There was absolute silence. Absolute focus from the two elves and Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut and imagined himself not only invisible, but gone...

And there was nothing.

He was simply...not there.As if he were looking though a pool or glass and could see the two elves standing frozen and silent. Both leaning forwards slightly and listening intently.

And then abruptly Legolas turned and spoke to Lossar but Bilbo could not hear what they were saying.

The Hobbit stared, open-mouthed and astonished. How did he...? How did that just happen?

And how did he get back?

He looked down at the Ring. And thought there was an inscription on the pure smooth gold...but he did not recognise the script. Even so, words formed in his mind and the Ring's magical property that enabled him to understand the spiders and elves, allowed him to comprehend the words now. He found his mouth forming the words...

Ash Nazg...

Suddenly he was looking down a long tunnel and the trees bent inwards, distorted like looking into a disturbed pool, sepia, sedge-brown.

Ash nazg...

A long indrawn breath...At laaaaassssttt...Precious...

Terror seized him then and he felt like his very soul was being pulled from his body. Frantically Bilbo puled off the Ring and ...

He stumbled. Over the carved and delicate rack of weapons. Everything crashed sideways, so the knives clattered from the rack and the bow skittered across the stone floor. He threw out his hands to ward off the inevitable discovery, could not stifle the cry that burst from him, the relief that he was here and not in that dreadful place where Something had awoken, had been waiting patiently for so long, long, long years beyond any thought of Bilbo very dark. Very deep. And it knew he had the Ring.

The room was empty.

Darkness had crept into the stronghold and long shadows were cast over the smooth limestone floor so it had the slight greenish tinge that made Bilbo think he was under a forest and not under the ground. The elves though, had long gone.

'I must have been in that place for hours,' he thought with a growing sense of horror, and of absolute relief. He sat on the fur rug that spread before the empty fireplace and rested his elbows on his knees. Breathing slowly he thought, 'Perhaps if I surrender to the Elvenking, I could bargain with him perhaps. Promise him my share of the treasure to let us go.'

He thought too that the elves would know what to do with the Ring. It was in his pocket again. Pressed softly against him. Just a ring. And it was smooth and pure. Such gold.

He found himself wanting to put it on again, just to check it was safe. He had been wearing it constantly for days in end and now his finger felt bare...but the memory of that place was too stark and too soon and he crawled into a cupboard that had stiff material and heavy brocade and seemed very little used. Curled up in the smallest ball a hobbit could make, Bilbo fell asleep.

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tbc