Right, this beauty is adopted from the wonderful WriterGirl1198, all work in this chapter belongs to her :)

R&R x

Disclaimer - I don't own anything, anything recognizable belonging to The Hobbit or anything else from LOTR is Tolkien's and the original characters, Cuilwen Morwen Thranduileth, along with her mother, Queen Tawariell and a few assorted others belong to WriterGirl1198

The next day, I went to the dungeons again. I went immediately to Thorin's cell, ready to tell him about my meeting with Bilbo, but he was not there. I began to panic, until I made myself slow down and think rationally. Adar must have had him brought to the throne room for another interrogation. I left the dungeons and took off for the main room of the palace. I got there just in time to see guards dragging Thorin away from my father.

"A hundred years is but a blink in the eye of an Elf," Adar said to Thorin as he was taken away. The doors closed behind him, and his gaze turned to me. "What do you want, Morwen?" he said to me coldly.

Tears filled my eyes, and I stepped forward. "Why do you hate me, Ada? What have I ever done to deserve this? All I ever wanted was your love, to know that someone besides Legolas cares about me. Why do you call me Morwen when Naneth asked for me to be Cuilwen? Why do you hate me so?"

He stepped forward, his eyes blazing. "Your birth took Tawariell's life. I blame you for that, and I always will. You are no child of mine. Only darkness can come from you, for your birth was cursed."

A choked sob rose in my throat, but I forced it back. "Naneth would never forgive you if she knew your words," I said, turning and fleeing from him.

I ran blindly, not caring where my feet took me, until I stumbled and fell to the ground. I then realized that I was in the dungeons again, close to Thorin's cell. I wiped my eyes, trying to dry my tears as I rose and kept walking to his cell. I reached the cell, and this time he was in there. When he saw me, he rose from his cot immediately and came to the bars.

"Are you alright?" he said, his eyes and voice concerned.

I shook my head, stifling a sob. "He hates me," I said, my voice breaking. "I always suspected, but now I know."

I sank to the ground, tears rolling down my face. Thorin reached through the bars, trying to comfort me as best he could.

"If he does not love you," Thorin said to me. "Then he is not worthy of you. He does not deserve the tears you shed over him."

"In my heart I know that, but my head is not so obliging," I said as I laughed slightly, self-deprecating.

"Hey," he whispered, reaching his hand to my face and wiping tears off my face. "Dry those tears. He does not deserve the tears of such a beautiful maiden."

I raised my head and looked at him. "Why do you call me beautiful?" I asked him, puzzled. "I am no beauty. Not like Lord Elrond's daughter, Arwen Undomiel, the Evenstar of our people. Not like her grandmother, Galadriel, Lady of Light." I looked down at the ground and took a deep shuddering breath. I felt something softly brush my chin, lifting my face, and I found that Thorin was the cause.

"You are beautiful," he said in determination. "Inside and out. You are willing to brave the wrath of your father to help his enemy, simply because you believe him to be wrong. We Dwarves consider that kind of courage true beauty."

I smiled at him as he wiped the tears away from my eyes. "Now, have you found anything?" he asked me gently.

I nodded, sobering quickly. "I met with your hobbit last night as I was leaving your cell," I told him. "We are working on a way out."

He appeared to be deep in thought, and muttered something to himself, though I was not sure I was supposed to hear it. "We must reach the Mountain by Durin's Day."

"How far away is that?" I asked him. He looked at me appraisingly.

"Durin's Day is the day of the Dwarves' New Year," he told me. "When the last sun of autumn and the first moon of winter are in the sky together."

I calculated in my head quickly then looked at him in alarm. "That does not give us much time." I rose from the floor where I had been seated. "I must find Bilbo."

I turned to leave, only to hear Thorin call after me. "Cuilwen!" I turned and looked at him, question in my eyes. "Be careful," he said. "You may believe that Thranduil will honor your mother's memory, but I do not trust him. Please, watch your steps."

"I will, Thorin," I told him. "I will." I turned and swiftly left the dungeons. I made my way towards my rooms, where I found my brother standing, ready to knock on the doors.

"Legolas!" I said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

He turned when he heard me say his name, and quickly grasped my arms, his blue eyes urgent as he tugged me in my room. He looked down the corridor quickly then closed the door, turning to look at me. By now I was afraid, unsure what was happening.

"Toron," I said, my voice beginning to shake slightly. "What is wrong?"

"You must leave, Nary," he said. There was an emotion in his eyes which I had never seen in him before: sheer panic and fear. "The Master of Laketown has asked Adar for you in exchange for a permanent alliance between Mirkwood and Esgaroth, and Adar has agreed! The Master is a cruel man, and he would not hesitate to abuse you; your spirit is too fiery for him to tame to his liking." He lifted his shaking hand to my face, smoothing my hair. "Narylfiel, he must not find you," he said, his eyes deadly serious.

I felt surprisingly calm, for I knew that I had to leave anyway. "What must I do?" I asked him.

In response, he turned me around and began taking all the braids out of my hair, the braids signifying that I was the Princess of Mirkwood. "You will be easily recognized by the color of your hair," he said. "Try to keep it covered at all times. Keep Naneth's necklace hidden, and your hair over your ears."

I nodded, and finally my hair was free for the first time in many years, though my brother quickly bound it in a single braid.

"Get changed into traveling clothes," he instructed. "I will return with your weapons."

"Legolas, no!" I cried quietly. He turned and looked at me in question as I debated internally.

"Nary, we have no time!" he said, and I made up my mind.

"I have a way out of the fortress," I told him. "But I must be the one to retrieve my weapons from the armory. Please Toron," I said when I saw him begin to question me. "Do not ask me questions; I cannot answer you. Just know if I never see you again that I love you."

His eyes were pained, but he gave me a curt nod. "Change quickly," he said. "I will pack things you may need."

I turned from him and grabbed a tunic, a pair of pants, and a cloak, hurrying behind the screen in my room. I could hear Legolas on the other side as I changed, hurrying around the room quietly. I finished quickly and came into the room, only to find Legolas finished completely.

"Go now," I told him. "We should not be seen together.

Tears came into his eyes and he embraced me tightly. "May the Valar keep you," he whispered against my hair. Pulling back, he kissed me gently on the forehead. He released me and left my room, leaving the door open part-way. As soon as I could no longer hear his footsteps, I slipped out of my room, closing the door completely, and made my way to the armory.

On my way there, I heard someone call me softly. "Lady Cuilwen!" I turned my head but saw nothing and no one. I quickly realized that it must be Bilbo.

"Bilbo, is that you?" I asked in a whisper.

He appeared in front of me, and I jumped slightly. Calming myself, I asked him urgently, "Have you found a way out for them yet?"

He nodded, his blue eyes sparkling. "The barrels and the trap door into the river down below."

I nodded at him. "The feast of Mereth-en-Gilith begins shortly. I am on my way to the armory to retrieve my weapons, and that is most likely where the Company's things are. I will get all that I can carry. You have them ready in the cellar, and I will meet you there." I sighed and said, "Tell Thorin that he may have an addition to his escape party, though if the Company objects, he will not be troubled for long."

Bilbo looked puzzled, but he nodded anyway. "Alright, but be careful."

I nodded, and he vanished. I turned and went to the armory, which thankfully was unguarded. I spoke the secret, magic password (Edro!) and the door swung open silently.

I entered and looked around at everything, realizing that the Dwarves' things were actually very easy to spot. The design was very distinct compared to all the Elvish weapons, and their packs were stowed in there as well. I took all the weapons and fastened them to myself in some way. My gaze then fell on a sword that was obviously of Elvish design, though I knew I had never seen it in here before. I picked it up and unsheathed it. The blade read, "Orcrist, the Goblin-cleaver." I knew the stories of this sword, just as I knew it had been lost since the fall of Gondolin in the First Age, along with Glamdring, the Foe-hammer, sword of the king of Gondolin. I slung it about myself as well, then grabbed as many of the packs as I could. Checking to make certain I had not missed anything, I left the armory, closing and locking the door behind me.

I stealthily made my way to the cellars, avoiding the few guards which were actually sober and alert. As I drew nearer, I could hear the quiet racket the Dwarves made as Bilbo tried to quiet them.

"Thorin," I heard Bilbo said. "I was told to tell you that we might have to have a tag-a-long in our escape, but that if it was trouble, they would depart after the escape."

I knew even without being in the room that Thorin was looking at the hobbit sharply. "What exactly did she say?" he asked sternly.

I could hear the other Dwarves muttering and shifting uncomfortably, and I heard one ask, "What are we waiting for? Why haven't we already left, if Bilbo's got us a way out?"

"And who is this 'she'?" another said.

"'She' is the only reason we were able to escape our cells," Thorin retorted, anger in his voice. "And we are waiting for her now." There was a pause, then the Dwarf-King said, "Again, what were her words?"

I chose to enter at that moment, struggling with the door since my arms were full. "My words, Thorin, were that I am in need of an escape route if I want to avoid my father selling my to the disgusting, cruel man who asked for me as his personal play-thing."

I dumped the packs onto the floor in front of the Company and began to hand out weapons. The massive twin axes as well as a huge, two-handed sword went to a partially bald, mostly tattooed Dwarf who stood close to Thorin, looking at me with loathing. The bow and arrows went to the young, dark-haired Dwarf who was one of the two the leader had been trying to reach when they were all captured. Finally all the packs were taken and the weapons claimed, except for Orcrist.

"Whose is this?" I asked, slinging it off my back. Thorin stepped forward silently, and I held it out towards him in respect. "I should have known. A kingly weapon for a noble Dwarf." I bowed as he took it from my hands. "May it serve you well."

He took it from me with a grateful nod, and the tall, half bald Dwarf scowled at me.

"Why would an Elf," he spat the word with contempt. "Lower herself to help Dwarves?"

I looked at him silently for a moment. "Thranduil was wrong to imprison you," I said quietly, and I saw Thorin look at me in question, since I had not referred to the Elven-king as my father. I suppose he wasn't in a way, for he had never loved me as his daughter. "I know I cannot right all his wrongs, but I can try, starting here. If we are to escape before the guards notice your absence, then we must hurry." I looked at Thorin, who was staring at me with an undefined expression in his eyes, and raised my eyebrows in question. "Thorin?"

He cleared his throat and looked away from me. "Everyone in the barrels."

Toron- Brother

Edro- Open