Zoor Se Dovahruth
Seventeen

-Vogrozah Fron-
Unlikely Kin

Keeva had left so quickly from her companions that she hadn't even taken note to the odd webs littered about the floor and branches of the forest. She'd distinctly listened to the nature around her. It whispered words, quiet words, but they were loud enough for her to make out. There were whispers of creatures, infestation, and danger. The wood was not dead yet and it still was trying it's best to warn it's guests. Keeva would try her best to heed the wood's words.

In the distance, Keeva's friends were clambering about in search of their path. She never strayed too far. Hearing them reassured her that they were still safe. But she knew the longer they stayed within these woods the worse their minds would be compromised.

She worried deeply about this. More so than she paid attention to her own safety, as many eyes were watching her now. With a little hope, Keeva's eyes returned to the floor beneath her in search of her target. It was difficult to say where to begin but she had back tracked from where she'd left. Most of the terrain seemed familiar but the further she traveled the less she seemed to recall, as if the wood was changing, morphing and contorting into different shapes. This frazzled her and she bit her lip with a bit more force than she'd meant to, causing her bottom lip to bleed.

It was in her state of need – a need to find a way out – that she'd forgone listening to her surroundings. Just as she was about to take flight and jump for another tree, Keeva screamed at the piercing pain that shot up from her calf. Her hands lost their grip within the branches and she plummeted to the floor of the woods, another shot of pain bursting throughout her body as she landed on her back from a great height.

The whimper from her lips was caused further when she glanced down at her calf and she found the culprit of her pain, an arrow protruding dangerously from it. She reached down to touch it but only hissed when she moved further. Her attacker – or attackers she should say – crept out of their hiding places and joined her on the forest floor, eyeing her strangely.

They were tall, lanky and most handsome warriors. Their bows and armor resembled that of the elves from Rivendell and Keeva softly wondered if there was any relation. But she never had the chance to ask when they lifted her up forcefully and ripped her mask from her face.

They spoke in that beautiful tongue she'd heard from Rivendell, her thoughts confirmed. One of the warriors stepped forward, a woman out of the throng of men. Her copper hair, slightly similar to Keeva's, was quite beautiful but Keeva imagined it was even more so in the sun light. The woman looked her over curiously and then began to speak to her.

Keeva knew nothing of the beautiful language. She wished she had but her fate said otherwise. When Keeva did not reply to the She-elf her features turned from a simple stare to a very distrustful glare. Keeva knew she probably should say something, but what exactly?

"The common tongue," Keeva began. She reasoned that would possibly clear the air with her attackers. Which reminded her, there was still an arrow stuck in her leg, "I do not speak your languid tongue."

The She-elf's glare softened a little, but it was just that, a little. She clearly still held no trust for Keeva and she didn't blame her for it, "You are an elf, are you not? Short you may be but an elf in body, mind, and spirit."

"A Bosmer, yes – or Wood elf if that pleases you," Keeva explained, her eyes passing over the She-elf's form. "I do not hail from this realm, you see."

"Distant kin, I imagine," she pondered, her head tilting curiously now as she stepped closer to Keeva to get a better look. "But what are you doing in these woods?"

Keeva adverted her eyes then, which earned her another glare of mistrust, "You will not tell me?"

"It is not my place to tell," Keeva countered. The She-elf scoffed, "You are alone. Surely you can say?"

"Nay," Keeva shook her head, her ears pricking at the sound of panic in the distance. Her heart hammered in her chest and her brown knitted with worry, "I come within these poisoned woods with my companions, who I think may need my help."

The She-elf's gaze never wavered as she thought over Keeva's words carefully. Even Keeva could see the woman was listening carefully into the forest for the distress of her friends. Keeva reasoned to pleading, "Please, you must let me go. I have to help them."

…

Deep in the darker and more poisonous part of the wood, the company of dwarves was fighting for their lives from a horde of eight legged creatures that seemed to be most surreal. Surrounding them the spiders came barreling down the trees to capture their meals again.

The dwarves now free from the webs of their captors try to escape. Bombur is tackled to the floor by one particular spider, as it is ready to bite him his companions rush forward to aid him, each grabbing a leg and pulling the spider in all directions. A sick crunching sound emits from the body before it's legs are dismembered from its torso and the spider lands on the pour dwarf beneath it.

Their battle continues while Bilbo is fighting his own battle for a particularly golden piece of jewelry. The spiders fight hard, using there cunning tactics to take out their pray. One spider manages to grab Kili and in the heat of the battle Fili calls out to his brother with concern. Dwalin and many of the others continue to fight on like the true warriors that they are. Kili stabs the spider in it's mouth and is freed once again. They manage to take out what they can and start running for safety.

Another spider drops down and blocks their path, but it is then that Thorin notices high in the trees a figure. The man jumps high from the tree limbs and grabs hold of the spiders thread, spinning down and jumping onto the back of the creature with skilled precision, stabbing it in the thorax as he slides on the ground underneath and then lands beautifully in front of Thorin, his bow drawn and ready to fire if the dwarves fight back.

The company is suddenly surrounded, elves on every side, their arrows cocked and ready. "Do not think I won't kill you, dwarf. It would be my pleasure."

In the distance a cry for help is made and Fili answers it without hesitation after realizing his brother was missing, "Kili!"

The dwarves watched Kili being pulled away by foot by a spider. A She-elf runs after it, killing three spiders with her bow and knife, beautiful combat skills that could match Keeva's any time of day. When the spiders are dealt with she returns with a dazed looking Kili.

The leader of the Mirkwood elves orders a search to be done and quickly the elves approach the dwarves, searching every nook and cranny on their person. One elf finally catches up with the others, a small figure within his grasp. The dwarves look on in surprise, it was Keeva, who they had forgotten about in the heat of the moment. She was leaning heavily on the elf that held her captive and they spotted the bound calf of her right leg.

Fili looked on with worry but didn't say a word as an elf approached him and began confiscating two knives from him. The tall blonde elf pulled the picture frame out of Gloin's pocket, "Hey! Give it back! That's private!"

The elf looks down, a strange look upon his features, "Who is this? Your brother?"

"That's my wife!" Gloin growled insulted. The elf looked over at the other picture, "And what is this horrid creature? A goblin mutant?"

"That's my wee lad, Gimli."

The elf's reply was a raise of a brow. However the elf searching Fili is still finding more knives on his person. He hands two over from his calves and then scoffs when the elf reaches underneath the lapel of his coat for another hidden knife.

Keeva watches on still in pain, the She-elf that had promised her to help her friends then addressed the blonde elf leader. She knows they are at least speaking about the spiders. Keeva can already hear them crawling about in the distance.

Fili smirks up at the elf searching him, opening his jacket to prove there were no more weapons for them to take but the elf reached over his shoulder and slipped out one more blade from behind his back. Fili still smiled though, his cocky attitude not helping his situation.

Keeva watched as Thorin's sword was brought before the blonde elf. He stared down at the blade in his hands with appreciation. It was clear he fondly loved the craftsmanship. He spoke eloquently in his mother tongue and then turned to Thorin with spite, "Where did you get this?"

Thorin answered honestly, "It was given to me."

The elf didn't buy it and pointed the blade and Thorin's throat. Keeva hissed in pain as she moved to help her leader but was yanked back by the elf restraining her. "Not just a thief, but a liar as well."

"He is no thief," Keeva spouted, earning the stares of not only her companions but the elves as well. The blonde elf turned around, his gaze burning on her. Keeva didn't back down but the pain in her calf weakened her appearance in her fight to stay strong, "I should know. Considering I am one."

The elf's brows furrowed at her and he walked over to Keeva with some kind of look of fascination, "You would defend this dwarf's integrity against your own?"

Keeva chuckled lightly, her eyes shining playfully up at the much taller elf, "Just take a look."

Keeva's playful eyes fleetingly gazed down at her leather bodice. The elf glanced down as well, spotting the hilt of a weapon hiding away in her clothing. Slowly he reached down and pulled the weapon from its spot. His eyes grew with surprise. The knife was identical to his! The blonde elf subconsciously patted the spot where the blade usually sat on his person and to his astonishment found it missing. Keeva chuckled, "Do you believe me now?"

The elf's face drew blank and Keeva reasoned he'd been embarrassed by her actions. Clearly the elf had never been stolen from before. So Keeva shouldn't have been surprised when he had her eyes blindfolded and sent her to the front of the party as he ordered her companions to be taken. Keeva then realized she might have just made a huge mistake.

…

Thorin followed behind a bound and blinded Keeva, whose steps were calculated and sometimes incorrect as she stumbled across the threshold into the Elven Hold. He'd felt guilt for her punishment. But she bared it with her head held high and her name now marred, branded a thief. But with her admittance Thorin's words were of earnest.

They marched them further into the fortress, the air within much cleaner and less toxic. Keeva found she could finally breathe and not feel the pull of the darkness within her, threatening to break free dragons fire, chaos, and despair. The closer they moved into the center of Mirkwood, the larger the throne of one of Thorin's enemies grew. The spite shared between the races was thick in the air, so much so that even a blinded Keeva could feel and taste it.

Thorin and Keeva were quickly separated from the rest of the company, the blonde elf leading them up the path and steps to the throne as their friends were led astray to the depths of the elvish city. Thorin knew they were to be locked away under safe key. But his and Keeva's fate now rested in the hands of an elvish king.

Thorin scoffed at the elf that pushed the helpless Bosmer up the last set of stairs. She stumbled and fell blinded onto the platform, Thorin rushed forward to help her stand. "Are you alright?"

Before Keeva could answer her elvish captor pushed the dwarf toward the throne and pulled Keeva back to his side quite possessively. Thorin glared, making sure the elf knew his meddling was not looked kindly upon.

"Some may imagine that a noble quest is at hand. A quest to reclaim a homeland and slay a dragon. I myself suspect a more prosaic motive: attempted burglary, or something of that ilk."

Thorin's attention was dragged away by the very voice he loathed to hear. Keeva's ears pricked with curiosity and frowned when she'd heard the King's accusations. She clearly had just made things worse for Thorin.

"You have found a way in. You seek that which would bestow upon you the right to rule: the King's Jewel, the Arkenstone." Thranduil's face never faltered and he stared down upon Thorin as if everything he stated was fact. "It is precious to you beyond measure. I understand that. There are gems in the mountain that I too desire. White gems of pure starlight."

The gleam in Thranduil's eyes spoke all of what he wanted. Thorin had no doubt exactly what the elven king wanted. The jewels were stunning, exactly like little stars captured in the form of stones. What Thorin had not expected was what Thranduil offered, "I offer you my help."

Hesitantly Thorin answered, "I am listening."

Thranduil's eyes flickered over to Keeva's still bound and blinded form behind Thorin. The dwarf then eyed the king darkly. "I will let you go, if you but return what is mine."

Thorin slowly turned and walked carefully toward his friend and only companion in the room. The elf holding her roughly pulled Keeva into him and glared warningly at the dwarf. "A favor for a favor."

"You have my word. One king to another," Thranduil goaded. Thorin scoffed lightly to himself, his eyes glaring heavily at the elf holding Keeva.

"I would not trust Thranduil, the great king, to honor his word should the end of all days be upon us!" Keeva winced, her heart dropping in her chest when she realized Thorin was going to be just as stubborn as a mule. She should have known better. Even in Rivendell, Thorin was no more kind than he had to be towards the elves. "You lack all honor! I've seen how you treat your friends. We came to you once, starving, homeless, seeking your help, but you turned your back. You turned away from the suffering of my people and the inferno that destroyed us!"

Keeva frowned then after Thorin finally crossed the line, spouting an insult in Khuzdul and sealing their fate, "Imrid amrad ursul!"

Thranduil leaped down from his throne and nearly thrust his face into Thorin's, spite and anger filling his features, his eyes a light with a fire that burned deeper than that with magic could produce out of thin air, "Do not talk to me of dragon fire. I know its wrath and ruin. I have faced the great serpents of the north."

Thorin watched as Thranduil's face contorted to reveal a massive burn and scar from his past encounter with dragons. His left eye was milky and unseeing and once he began to draw away his face returned to normal. "I warned your grandfather of what his greed would summon, but he would not listen."

Thranduil then turned his back on the dwarf king and walked up the steps of his throne, his head held high, "You are just like him."

The king then motioned for the guards to grab the dwarf so that he too would be thrown into the dungeons, "Stay here if you will, and rot. A hundred years is a mere blink in the life of an elf. I am patient. I can wait."

When Thorin was finally out of sight - and mind for one individual in particular - the elven king turned his gaze to the remaining prisoner, "And who might you be?"

Keeva swallowed hard, she could not see who she was talking too, and that somewhat gave her the courage to speak. She was quite sure just by the sound of his voice that she might have quivered just a little at the sight of him. Such a commanding voice demanded such reaction. But she was safe for now she imagined, within what she assumed was the darkness; she felt comfort in that, "Keeva, your grace."

"Keeva, you are pleasantly more polite than your choice of companions," Thranduil noted as he crossed his legs when he sat. "Bring her forward."

Keeva was roughly pushed and she hissed lightly when she landed on her injured leg in the wrong way. But the elf didn't wait for her to recover and continued to walk her up to where ever she was told to. "Why is she blinded?"

"She's a thief, your grace," the elf said while lightly shoving the girl when he said the word thief. "She admitted to it and pick pocketed the Prince."

Keeva cursed inwardly. So she just had to go pickpocket the king's son. She just made things worse for herself. "Remove the blind. I would like to see her eyes... You can gain immense amounts of knowledge just from one glance. Perhaps your eyes will tell me who you are?"

Keeva was roughly manhandled but the blind fold was quickly removed in a fell swoop. Her eyes had been used to the dark for quite some time. So when the strip of cloth was removed she felt her vision blur most unnaturally. Keeva had to blink a couple of times just to focus. But when she had finally gained her crystal clear gaze back she allowed her blue eyes to venture up the throne made of beautiful curved wood, up the long yet masculine legs that were covered in the most silvery of fabrics, then all the way up his lean torso and finally landing on his elegant features. The king's eyes were so pointed, piercing and calculated. They were a sharp blue in contrast to the darker shade of his lashes and thick yet strong brows. His hair was just as immaculate has his sons, long and like a silvery curtain. Keeva had been right; she would have had more courage had she not looked upon the king.

He was everything that oozed regality. His very presence demanded attention and respect, and for once Keeva felt an odd pull to listen, to be subdued and to follow without question. These were wood elves halls; perhaps she did have some sort of distant relations with these elves. She wasn't sure, but what she was sure of was that she felt the need to fight against her instincts. "My, my – your eyes do say quite a story."

"If it isn't to forward of me" Keeva began, her eyes flickering to the familiar figure of the king's son before continuing, "but what exactly do they say?"

Her little act of disrespect barely goaded a reaction from the king, he just smiled down at her pleasantly, "You're a loyal warrior, and this little picture you have painted of yourself as a thief is a curious little white lie. What you hold, what power you hold within you though, that is the real story."

Keeva's eyes wavered in a slight panic. Surely he wasn't talking about the dragon. Surely.

"Oh but you know what I speak of," he urged, his lively blue eyes glistening, "You hold a power so ancient, so powerful, and magical. Is this your reason for taking company in a band of mischievous dwarves?"

Keeva glared, "They promised me a home. They gave me companionship and friends. For that I have offered them my bow, my loyalty, and my life."

Thranduil eyed her curiously, his gaze wandering down her form and back up it, landing on the wound of her leg for only a few seconds before continuing. Her appearance was most elvish, but she was very short in stature. Her hair was a similar shade to his commander of the Mirkwood Elven Guard. But there was a hint of another kinship within this one. The elvish features in her face were softened with a rounder quality than a sharper one. It had him curious to say in the least, "I see the blood of our kin runs in your veins… but another resides within you. Are you perhaps half of the filth that lies in my dungeons?"

The disgust on Thranduil's face offended Keeva, and she scoffed, "You are mistaken, your grace. I do not hail from this realm, or any realm in Middle Earth for the matter! We Bosmer are a cunning breed of elves from Tamriel but I am also a child of the Nords! Proud, strong, and loyal people from the north! And I will not have their name be smudged!"

The fire that Thranduil knew was within her blossomed to life and he grinned wonderfully, "There she is."

Keeva's eyes grew with surprise but her anger never left. Thranduil stood suddenly and descended his throne to stand before her, "You, my dear, are the story. You see, there is a song of old sung long ago by the elves of these lands…"

He reached out, brushing the back of his hand against her cheek, "Fiery hair and crystal blue eyes. Lost amongst stars, an omen from the night. Leathery wings of black, the frost descends so mean. The dragon's child come to save the king."

Keeva never let her eyes waver from the king's. He stared down upon her like she was a prized possession and Keeva did not like that feeling. She did not like the feeling of being suffocated, caged, or even tied down. The one look Thranduil gave her instilled all three of those fears and she knew he had something more dark and dangerous planned for her. "You are the woman from the song, Keeva. You're the dragon's child. You are gifted with the magic of the serpents from the north."

"Fokeinvokul is not of this land," Keeva warned, her eyes pleading him now, "He obeys no one, not even Alduin, the World Eater. Do not mistake my curse for a benefit to your land. If you do not release me or my companions he will show his rage. For there is only one thing he desires and it is not in these woods."

Thranduil's head tilted slightly, "What would a dragon want more than a horde of gold?"

"He wants the dragon's soul."

Her answer startled him, his brows furrowed and he stopped to rest his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it tightly, "What would a dragon do with the dragon's soul?"

Keeva bit her lip, an act all too familiar when she feared for the worst, "He plans to use it, to return home and to use me to kill his enemies."

"Then we must stop such an act," the king said, dropping his eyes to her arm. He lifted it, pushing the sleeve up to the elbow before rubbing his large thumb over the marks there that glowed a angry red. He didn't hiss when the marks burned his skin but he did eye the girl darkly realizing he just might have the most dangerous weapon in his possession. "Legolas, show the girl to the healing halls. I will join you there after I've spoken with Tauriel."

Legolas stepped forward and replaced the elf that had held Keeva captive the entire trip. He gently urged her to lean on him as he helped her down the stairs. Thranduil watched on with a blank stare but his thoughts were quickly running through his mind about the magic he would have to perform on the girl that evening.

Keeva glanced shortly up at the king's son, guilt flashing across her eyes, "I want to apologies for taking your weapon. It was not proper and I had thought my word would save my friends. I was wrong."

Legolas only glanced at her briefly before he returned to the path they walked to the healing chamber. "Your skill actually surprised me."

His admittance made Keeva smile slightly. She'd thought she might have offended him but seeing as how now he was a bit more appreciative of her talents, she eased into his company a bit more, "But you are correct in saying that it was wrong. Your apology is accepted. But I'm afraid it still will not help your friends."

"I would have thought you'd send me down into the dungeons as well," Keeva jested. Her eyes sparking to life as she smiled at him. Legolas didn't smile back though, "We can send you down there if you wish."

"No! I jest- I only jest," she teased. Legolas looked down upon her, seeing the lovely smile upon her face and for once actually smiled back. Something about her features, especially when she smiled, was infectious, "You've a strange sense of humor."

"You don't have to remind me," she chuckled, "It is said we Bosmer are the only race of Mer to actually have a sense of humor, though it is quite dry with some."

"I will try to remember that," Legolas said as he brought her into a large chamber filled with bottles of liquids, jars filled with dried plants, and a few cots set up in the room. There were more herbs hanging from the ceiling, books and scrolls stashed away in different places and a healing bath located in the adjacent room. Legolas set her on one of the cots and helped her wounded leg up to rest. Keeva thanked him quickly and bent down to remove the makeshift bandage.

Legolas stopped her, placing his hands on hers to stall them. She quickly removed her hands after making eye contact with the elf. Keeva had not expected him to touch her so abruptly, his skin had been quite warm and she hadn't realized how cold she was until then. Suddenly she shivered and whether Legolas noticed or not he made no mention of it.

Legolas turned his gaze back to her leg and began to untie the bandage. "I must apologies for this. Usually we are gentler with our captures. But you were quite fast, you see, and Tauriel was getting impatient."

"Sounds like she needs to learn how to get someone's attention in a not so painful way," Keeva urged, a smirk pulling at her lips. Legolas grinned lightly as he pulled the last layer of bandages away to reveal the torn leggings and the bleeding wound underneath. The skin was red, but not infected, thankfully. She'd been worried back when they were in the goblin invested mountains that she'd lost a part of her Bosmeri gifts. They were well known for being resistance to disease and infection, and when she had felt weak back in those mountains Keeva thought she'd lost that blessing from Y'ffre.

Legolas pulled the fabric of the leg up just past the wound and quickly went to work on cleaning the blood. The two stayed quiet after this, Keeva softly admiring his work and Legolas concentrating, in hopes to prevent any further damage to her already clear skin. The elf had removed the tacky blots of blood and left the cot for a few seconds to find a needle and thread, returning again to her, he began to stitch the skin back together, "This may scar but I think we may have a salve that could help with lessening the scar."

Keeva nodded listlessly, her mind absently wandering to the scared letters on her arm that Legolas's father had touched briefly during their meeting. She had known well what happened to those that touched it. Thranduil hadn't reacted to the burn but she knew from the tips of his fingers that the single touch had not gone unreactive. Legolas watched her carefully after he'd finished his last stitch, his eyes landing on the burned, plump, scratches with some interest. He didn't ask though, he reasoned waiting for her to bring it up would be more appropriate. His father wasn't much for keeping things subtle, that was why he'd been so brash when grabbing the girl's arm to reveal the mark. His father knew things even beyond Legolas's comprehension, even knowing that this girl would show one day on their door step.

"Your father," she began, her eyes still never meeting his, rubbing her thumb against the plump marks gently as she continued, "you must make him see that keeping me here is a danger. The dragon - the dragon owns my soul, Legolas. I must do its bidding in exchange for my companions' safety and my freedom. He will soon realize that we are not moving, that I am captive within this land, and he will rear his ugly face and reign chaos upon this wood to ensure the journey continues."

"I do not have as much say as you think, my lady," Legolas said sadly, his brows furrowed and he took her hands into his to ease her fears. "My father has is mind focused on one thing: To do what is right for him and our people."

"Then you will warn him of his mistake!" Keeva insisted, her eyes pleading. Legolas stood then and small frown forming on his lips at the sight beneath him, "My lady, you have little faith in your kin. When my father says he will help, he will."

Legolas left then, never looking back as Keeva watched him leave. She felt an anger fill her chest and for once she didn't hold back the scream welling up in her throat. To Keeva the scream was nothing but the pure physical rage of being ignored. To the ears of those that lived and resided in the halls of Mirkwood that night, the sound was like a crack of thunder after the flash of lightning, followed by the bellow of a beast. Thorin and Balin, even Thranduil knew that sound too well. That was the sound of a serpent from the north. That was the sound of a dragon.

…

A/N: I thought I would spoil you guys a bit and give you something a little early.

Now we are in Mirkwood. I'm quite excited about these next few chapters because our little Bosmer has a long battle ahead of her to escape, not only getting herself out but her friends as well. Keeva is going to start finding that there are also many individuals within Middle Earth that see her curse as a gift and would use it against their enemies, for evil purposes, and to ensure the safety of their people. Thranduil is one of just many, the Necromancer will even be addressed in the next chapter after Azog explains his meeting with Keeva and her little display of necromancy.

The little tale told by Thranduil is made up, I'm sure you could realize that. In this story, this tale is one of old, a tale only ever told my mouth from a prophet from long ago. This tale was passed down through generations of Mirkwood Elves and Thranduil finally has found the woman from the story. He believes the king mentioned in the tale is himself but I think we all know which king it really is, yes? I do love the feeling of anticipation for these characters. It is this feeling that really gets me going on these chapters.

There was not much of Fili in this chapter, I know. It killed me to not write him in as much as I have but this part of the story needed to be out and I think you will be pleased when Keeva has to find a way to visit her friends within the dungeon. Luckily she is not alone. Bilbo is a loyal friend and he's going to make sure Keeva does not loose herself to Fokeinvokul while in Mirkwood.

I would like to thank Marina Oakenshield and the two lovely ladies from MidnightTales357 for leaving me reviews, as well as the lovely Dalonega Noquisi. I'm always pleased with your opinions and constructive criticism is always welcomed. Also, if you ever want to just chat about fanfiction or anything in particular don't be afraid to PM me. I'm always up for a good conversation.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit or Elder Scrolls. Any character that is not familiar is of my own creation.