An: This is going to get graphic fast, due to the nature of the surprise fandom I crossed the Hobbit with. Mature content and descriptions of painful death. Read at your discretion.

Seeker was having the reoccurring nightmare in which she died slowly and horribly. As always, her own features were blurry and ever shifting, as if she couldn't remember her own face. She could taste blood in her mouth, hear the agonized gasping of someone else nearby. She couldn't see as she hung suspended by the spear through her chest. The blood from the wound flowed down over her eyes. Seeker spasmed occasionally as her body fought death. Why? We...were the heroes. This...isn't supposed to happen. Have to...someone will save us.

She knew they wouldn't. No one ever came to pull her from the stake upon which she was impaled. She thought briefly of their mission but was unable to focus deeper and actually know details of it. Seeker could never figure out the exact parameters. Of course. It was just a nightmare.

Then she was being slapped awake and she sputtered, startling. Over her stood a gaggle of dwarves, some more concerned than others. "He's alive. Seems like the venom gave him some nasty dreams, though. Up you get." Oin gave her a clean bill of health. The rest of the party kept a fitful watch while Seeker struggled to her feet. It was still strange, hearing them refer to her as a man, but for reasons she had yet to discuss with them, it was better she hide herself. Thorin gave her a long look and Seeker began to push past him. They had to keep going.

Unfortunately, it would seem they had been stealthily surrounded by how wielding elves as they attempted to wake their own elven member. She turned her head a little to the left, the arrow almost in her eye. And tried not to gasp. Staring back was her brother, Legolas. Was he going to accidentally out her? Did he ever care? What was he doing on spider patrol? He lowered his bow, surprise filtering through his expression. "Muinthel?" Seeker prayed the party she was with didn't know Sindarin. "Why do I find you here of all places? You ran, but instead of to freedom, it was..." His brow wrinkled. "To a bunch of dirty-"

She interrupted him. "Watch your tongue, muindor. These are my people now. I travel with them and have become as one. What will you do about it?" Her eyes scanned the party from her peripherals and she noted with satisfaction that it would appear Bilbo had gotten away.

Legolas' brow wrinkled more. He was beyond simple confusion, now. "Nothing different." He spoke to his patrol. "Grab them. We make for the Elvenking's Halls."

x

Seeker knew she'd be brought before Elvenking Thranduil, and was struggling with ways to address this. Her father was not a very understanding elf when it came to people who walked away from others saw as blessing. The worst part of this forced march wasn't knowing the disappointment that awaited her on the king's face but the betrayed looks on the faces around her. The elves with her brother were...mad she had chosen this over being the future queen. The dwarves she'd come to be so attached to already were just not meeting her eyes. Worst of all was Thorin's accusatory glaring. It hurt. It hurt bad.

She decided to keep her eyes downcast. There was a lot of murmuring about how he was actually a she this whole time. Like Dwalin for example. He seemed really incensed to be tricked into having a woman along and he hadn't liked Seeker to begin with because of her elven blood. Dejected sort of acceptance setting in, she was still surprised to see the party put in cells as she was getting dragged on down the cave halls. "H-hey! Let go of me!" She hissed at the elves "guiding" her down the hall.

Legolas chewed his lip quietly, not really sure what to say. "Mind your grip." He finally said as they neared the throne room. "She is the king's daughter."

The words felt bitter in Seeker's ears. She had a decent relationship with her da and her muinthel but that didn't mean she wanted the life she'd been given as the Elvenking's last child. His little girl. It had been fine for a couple centuries, but she had questions and no one in Mirkwood had answers. She had never felt who she supposedly was. Her fate, her destiny...It was elsewhere. The throne room doors opened and Seeker was escorted in. All eyes in the room swiveled to look upon her, all except the eyes of the Elvenking himself. "Ion." He called Legolas his son. "You return so soon?"

Seeker zoned out, not listening to her brother's explanation or their father's answer to it. "Child of mine, why are you with them? These...thieving dwarves."

Again, Seeker couldn't help her tongue. "These are my people now, da." She raised her head and proudly met his eyes. "I know not why, but my fate is here. With those thieving dwarves, as you called them. I will defend to the death, just as I would for Legolas, or yourself."

Thranduil had a strange look on his face, as if he were still absorbing her words. Then his normally unreadable face returned and he spoke to a guard on the left of his throne. "Fetch the dwarf calling himself the king under the mountain."

Seeker felt her nerves mounting. What was her father about to do? He turned his immortal gaze on her again, the intellect of a never ending lifetime burning bright behind his eyes. "The nightmares you still have...You believe they involve one of the dwarves?"

Seeker nodded, every muscle in her body subtly tensed in expectation of coming conflict. Finally, Thorin was there. "Thorin Oakenshield. I will release your ragged band and get you into Erebor. All I ask is for our moon stones back."

Sensing that Thorin was about to raise a fuss, Seeker spoke first. "Take the deal, Thorin. He will keep his word."

He have her a critical look, before finally speaking. "You lied about who you were. Your father's honor is questionable. Why should I, elf?"

Seeker found for once in her life, the reply was both immediate and easy. "I am not an elf. I am a company member. I will fight and for your cause the same as anyone else among us." She took a breath, suddenly realizing something. "This is the way to my answers. Thorin Oakenshield, I beg you keep me in your employ. I only wish to see Erebor regained and Smaug vanquished."

Thorin was quiet a moment before he met Thranduil with the same reluctance the Elvenking was displaying. "Fine, you have yourself a deal." He turned his gaze on Seeker. "But you...You have some explaining to do. What sort of elven dream magic have you cast upon me? I am beset by nightmares of your mangled body. What sorcery is this?"

Seeker could only stare. What sorcery indeed?