I do not own any of the characters or The Hobbit (Just the AU storyline and my OC). Those are the work of the esteemed and brilliant John Ronald Reuel Tolkien, and without his genius, this and many other fanfics would not be in existence.

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Legolas made his way through the forest as swiftly as his feet could carry him. Captain Tauriel's patrol had been assigned to the southern border, along the elven path, and he hoped to overtake her before she rejoined them.

As he deftly ran under the trees, he thought about the troubling conversation he had with Erestor. He did not fault her in her desire to return Galmar's body to his kin. It was a noble and kind gesture, and he appreciated that trait in her immensely. However, she had left her patrol without leadership along a dangerous border; her indiscretion made worse by the fact that she had already lost a patrol to the dangerous spiders. Erestor was right to be concerned. He himself was as well.

He had been certain that, though young, she was ready. Truth be told, she wasn't much younger than himself. He had not been of age long when she was born. However, as the king's son, and the High Captain responsible for the defense of his father's realm, he had received more intensive training beginning even earlier in his youth than she. Tauriel had not entered into the service of the king until she was of age, but she had seemed to him to be a swift learner, and was very skilled in woodcraft and weaponry.

Skill alone does not qualify one to lead, his father had instructed him many times. Intelligence, instinct, creativity, honor, and impartiality are far more valuable than simple skill in a leader. One may be the finest swordsman or bowman, or the most skilled woodsman, in all of elvendom. But without these traits, especially intelligence, he will bring more harm to his people than a person of great intellect and foresight, but lacking in his skill with a blade.

Legolas had strongly believed that Tauriel had what it required to be a Captain of the Guard. But now, after what Erestor told him, he feared that he might've made the very mistake his father had cautioned him repeatedly against. There was no question whatsoever in his mind as to her skill with blade, bow, and woodcraft. She also had a trait that Legolas would add to his father's list of what comprised a good leader- compassion and empathy. But, he feared, her compassion for Galmar's family may well have clouded her judgment. And a Captain of the Guard must not let their judgment become clouded, lest it result in harm to their patrols.

A flash of red caught his eye in the trees ahead, and he slowed down and readied his bow. The young prince had no intention whatsoever of shooting the inexperienced captain, but he knew that she was not expecting him, and he needed to be prepared to deflect the arrow she was now subtly reaching for in her quiver. Drawing his bow, he waited patiently. With expert skill, she quickly drew her bow and turned around, at a speed almost equal to his own. She stared at him wide-eyed, before dropping her bow.

"I thought you were an orc," she said in the Silvan dialect, the captain clearly startled but trying to hide it.

"If I was an orc," he replied in the same tongue, "you would be dead." He dropped his bow and placed the yellow-fletched arrow back in his quiver. She did the same, and bowed her head with a salute as he approached her.

"Captain Tauriel," he addressed her. She looked up and opened her mouth, and he held up his hand.

"There is no need for formalities," he assured her. Truth be told, he didn't overly care for them at all, but he was the king's son, and it was more or less unavoidable with most. She nodded in acknowledgement.

"May I ask why the High Captain was following me?" she asked, clearly nervous. He looked at her sternly.

"I spoke with Captain Erestor," he replied. Her shoulders slumped. "He told me that you left your patrol to escort Galmar's body back to his kin." She nodded.

"Ayeth," she confirmed. "I made a mistake, High Captain. It will not happen again." Legolas nodded.

"I believe you," he assured her. She looked up at him in surprise. "You are a good patrol, Tauriel. You are very skilled with blade and bow, and an excellent woodswoman. But—" He reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"I fear the fault lies with me," he admitted. "I was the one who recommended your advancement to the rank of captain of the guard to the king. I believed you were ready. Now, I see that you still have more to learn, before being placed in a position of leadership." Her head darted up, and he saw tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She quickly blinked them back.

"I am ready," she insisted. "I know now that it was wrong to leave my patrol without leadership. It will not happen again. I—" He held up his hand, silencing her.

"Tauriel, you are highly skilled, and you care for the troubles of others," he explained. "It is a noble trait. But it is not enough. A good leader must also be intelligent and have good instincts, and be impartial. A captain of the guard cannot let their judgment cloud their eyes, or else the safety of their patrol is at risk." She nodded, and he sighed.

"I will go with you," he said. "You will rejoin your patrol, and I will come along merely as an observer. We have word that the spider's nest your company destroyed two moons ago is inhabited again, and we cannot allow these spawns of Ungoliant to invade our realm. My father will not be happy to learn that they have returned.

"I will join you," he repeated, "and see for myself if you are indeed ready to be a captain of the guard." Tauriel nodded, and glanced toward the south, before turning her gaze back toward the young prince.

"What of the spiders, hir-nin Legolas?" she asked worriedly. "I do not see your guard with you. Should you be wounded—" He cut her off.

"I can defend myself," he interrupted, a little offended at her observation. He was far more skilled in bow and blade than most of the other elves in the realm- his father had seen to that. "And I will not be alone. You and your patrol are guard enough for me. My father wishes to see this spider's nest destroyed permanently. I shall see to it that it is. Now, lead on, so that we will reach your patrol by sundown." She nodded, and moved to do as bidden.

As the pair ran through the forest, he began to wonder if he should have conceded and allowed his personal guard to join them. He hated always having a shadow following him, and never being alone. His favorite thing to do was run alone under the trees in the height of summer, with stars twinkling above as he passed through open glades filled with sweet grasses, and whispering leaves fluttering in the wind in the boughs of beeches overhead. To be carefree and alive, without the shackles and chains of expectation and status. No one to salute him, no one to demand anything of him, no royal duties to fulfill, no meetings to attend. Just the beauty of the woods and trees and stars to keep him company as he ran, singing the sweet, lilting songs of his people.

So having a personal guard at all, while somewhat understandable given his position as the king's only son, was far more of a nuisance than a help, at least in his mind. But he was second-guessing his decision now. The spiders were very dangerous, even to elves, and, while he was very experienced in patrol leadership and highly skilled in woodcraft, bow, and blade, a few more experienced warriors would not be a bad thing, when facing a very large spider's nest.

It was too late to change his mind now. All he could do was hope that Tauriel had what it took to lead her patrol into a melee with giant spiders, so her patrol could come out of the fight unscathed. He would stand back, fight as a patrol, and observe her leadership, as he stated to her before. But, if she proved unable to lead them effectively, he would not hesitate to step in and take over. No matter how skilled and prodigious she was, her keeping her position as captain of the guard was not worth losing another elf to these monsters of Morgoth.

With any luck, they would all return home this time, together and unharmed, leaving no elf behind to face the dangers of the dark woods alone.

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The company marched on, each member trying and failing to ignore the incessant growling noises in their only partly satisfied stomachs. It might have been doable to ignore the hunger, if it weren't for Bombur's continual whining about food. For the past several hours, all he did was whine about tired legs, empty bellies, and the feast he'd dreamed of, despite multiple members of the company's thinly-veiled threats.

Even Cirashala was sorely tempted to fulfill Dwalin's promise. She had been luckier than the rest of the group. The dwarves and hobbit were used to eating so much that even a minor reduction in rations left them grumpy and irritable. However, up until now, she'd always gone to sleep with a full belly, being used to eating less than the rest of them on a daily basis. The bland fare of nuts, seeds, cram, and beans was beginning to get extremely old and dull, as they'd run out of dessicated fruits and vegetables weeks ago, but at least she hadn't been hungry…until now. Half ration she could be satisfied with. Quarter ration once a day was another matter entirely. As Bombur whined yet again, the young woman found herself balling her fists up at her side, and it took every ounce of self-control not to tell the still somewhat rotund dwarf to put a sock in it, or else she'll shut him up herself!

It wasn't just the food, either. Even more worrisome was the lack of water. The last time they'd refilled their water skins had been before they even entered the forest, and it was hot and muggy underneath the dark boughs. The trees were just beginning to really turn colors, which led her to estimate that they were in early September, but the heat of August still persisted, and the trees blocked any sort of relief a gentle breeze might proffer. She'd never done well with heat to begin with, and the stuffiness and hunger just seemed to increase her thirst. She'd taken to diligently using one hand to eat, and the other to take care of necessary hygiene, because she could not justify sparing even a single drop of precious water to wash her hands.

What I wouldn't give for some baby wipes! She thought to herself in frustration, as sweat trickled down her back and damp trousers rubbed very uncomfortably. Would be nice to have a grocery store, too. Some deodorant. Some disposable lady supplies that I don't have to carry with me. Some disposable toilet paper. Hell, what about a toilet?! Gosh, I miss home.

Home. This was the first time she'd really been able to think about it. She had grieved a lot in the past few months, but every time thoughts of home came up, she'd pushed them away. It was too painful for her to think about home, about her wonderful husband, and her beautiful children. She thought about the comfortable yet modest home they had together. Three bedrooms two bathrooms, a luxurious, deep tub for soaking in. She thought about her vegetable garden, her strawberry patch, the swings and slide they built for their four year old, and the little baby swing they put on there for her one year old sister.

She thought about the peeping baby chicks that her daughter was so excited to get, clucking away in the backyard shed that they'd converted into a chicken coop. She thought about how her four year old would sing the songs from her favorite Disney movie, and how that same movie would allow the little one to nap, when not much else did. She thought about how she used to sew her dresses while the baby napped, as it was hard to cut out fabric with her crawling on it.

She wished that she had just let her crawl on it.

She wished that they'd never enrolled her four year old in gymnastics, even though she loved it. She wished they'd never gotten in the car that day. It was raining heavily. It was hard to see through the windshield as muddy, grimy water splashed up from the tires of the cars ahead of them. She wished that the jerk who hit them had never gone out drinking. She wished they'd have taken his keys at the bar as he stumbled out to his car. She wished she'd seen him coming. She wished she'd turned the other way. Maybe, if she had turned the other way, her husband and babies would still be alive. Maybe…

Cirashala didn't know she was crying, until she felt a tap on her arm.

"Cira?" Kili asked quietly. She looked up at him, and his brown eyes were filled with concern. "Are you all right? What's wrong?" The gentleness in his voice cut straight through to her heart. It was so sweet, so kind, and so sincere. He was genuinely worried about her, and it simply made her cry harder. Others paused, and looked back at her in confusion. The young woman quickly averted her eyes, but the tears kept streaming down her cheeks, and falling onto the dried leaves of the forest floor. Why could she not stop crying?!

Suddenly, Kili wrapped his arms around her. In plain sight for all to see, he wrapped his arms around her. And she let him. Burrowing her face into his hair, she sobbed uncontrollably. The young woman felt someone come up behind her and place his hand on her shoulder, and through the blurry tears, she could just make out Fili's boots next to hers.

The young woman cried for a while, though she could not tell how long. Finally, she pulled away and wiped her eyes, before looking at the company. Her eyes were puffy and red, and she was utterly mortified.

"I-I'm sorry," she whispered, wiping her eyes and nose. "I-I didn't mean…I…" Balin walked up to her and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"It's all right, lass," he said quietly. "Between you and me, I daresay that the rest of us certainly feel like weeping, too. And we would, if we thought it would make a difference." Bofur nodded in agreement, the flaps of his hat bobbing up and down. Kili slowly let her go, and backed away, but she noticed he still looked at her with deep concern.

"Come," Thorin said, his tone slightly gentler that it had been all day. He was obviously slightly uncomfortable, but there was a hint of understanding in his eyes. "There's no use standing here lamenting our circumstances. The sooner we get out of this miserable forest, the sooner we can replenish our supplies, and have full bellies again. Until then, we just keep walking east."

"But which way is east?" Dori asked. Nori looked at Thorin.

"Are we sure this path is gonna get us out of here?" he asked skeptically. "Maybe the elves changed it on purpose, and now we're going in circles!" Dwalin rolled his eyes.

"What use is a road that goes in a circle?" he asked patronizingly. "Even they aren't that stupid!" Ori nodded.

"Right," he agreed, holding up his book. "And Gandalf said to follow the path. I got it right here in my book." Gloin scoffed.

"And just how sure is he?" he asked. "He didn't even bother to come with us. He just up and left us at the edge of the forest without a word!" Several dwarves nodded.

"Aye," Nori agreed. "Maybe he got into a scuffle with the elves, and didn't want to get caught himself!" Several dwarves chimed in, each growing more and more argumentative, and Balin held up his hands.

"Quiet!" he snapped, the normally congenial dwarf obviously losing patience himself. "Dwalin is right. This path was here even before the dragon came. It was built a very long time ago, even before Erebor was even founded! And, according to the most recent maps I've seen, it still leads to the eastern edge of the forest. We follow it, and we'll be able to reach Laketown, as Thorin said." Dori huffed.

"Wouldn't put it past elves," Nori muttered. Bilbo stepped forward and raised his hand.

"Um, actually," he interjected. "Gandalf surely knows these elves, and is on friendly terms with them—" A chorus of frustrated voices drowned him out, and Thorin held up his hand.

"Let the hobbit speak," he ordered, though his expression toward the hobbit in question was rather dubious. Bilbo nodded his thanks.

"Um, as I was saying," he continued, clearing his throat. "Gandalf clearly had other business when he left us, and he's the one who arrange this quest in the first place! Why would he give us bad directions?"

"Uh, actually," Ori spoke up. "Thorin arranged the quest. He's the one that suggested we get a burglar—" Thorin cleared his throat loudly, and looked pointedly at the scribe, who instantly shut his mouth.

"What are we going to do if we run out of food?" Bombur finally asked. "We only have enough left for one meal, and then we're completely out. If we're going to die of starvation, then I'll just lie down here. If I can't get food any other way, then I may as well dream about it!" He sat down in a huff, and Dwalin glared at him.

"I told you, you little git," he growled. "If you say one more word about food, I'll kill you myself!" Suddenly one of the dwarves shouted.

"Over there!" Dori cried. "I see a nice, fat stag!" The group turned their heads and, sure enough, a very well-muscled stag appeared in the trees. It was too far away to be in arrow range, but it did not stop Kili from trying. The deer continued grazing on low lying shrubs, seemingly oblivious to the arrows landing many yards from it.

"I say go for it!" Nori cried. "Kili, can you get closer?" Kili shook his head.

"It's out of my range!" he argued. "Do you want me to waste the few arrows I have left?!" Gloin pushed past Nori and peered into the dim green light.

"It's moving further away!" he cried. The stag raised its head and twitched its ear, before looking right at them. The large beast was big enough that it could have fed the entire group for days. Cira's stomach churned as she saw the hungry dwarven eyes staring at this beast. A faint memory began to creep into her mind, though it was not a beast in the book, but rather distant firelight that made them impulsively leave the elven path and get lost in the woods.

It's not the elven fires, she tried to reassure herself. It's just a deer. A nice, big, beefy deer…they aren't going to leave the path for this, are they? One look at the dwarves, and her stomach fell like a rock.

Oh, no…

Suddenly, the deer began to leap away. Shouting, several of the dwarves began to give chase. Bilbo must've also realized what was going to happen, because he reached out and tried to grab their arms, but to no avail.

"Wait!" he squeaked. "Gandalf said to stay on the path!"

"Gandalf ain't starving!" Nori shouted, before leaping into the trees. Several others followed, hunger being a powerful motivator. Cirashala was so shocked and scared at what it meant for things to come that she couldn't say a word, no matter how she tried. And it would have done no good had she done so, for she feared that her shouts would have fallen on deaf ears anyway.

Kili and Fili began to move forward, before Kili stopped, and looked back at her. He reached out and grabbed his brother's arm.

"Fee, wait!" he cried. Fili paused, and looked at her. She looked at them, then back at the quickly disappearing backs of the rest of their company. The two dwarves were clearly torn, especially Kili, as they stared helplessly between her and their kin. Horror entered her eyes as she realized what was happening.

They won't leave me alone…but they won't leave Thorin, either. He's their uncle, and their king. They are being forced to choose between me…and their king…

"Kili!" Fili cried, tugging at his arm. "We can't leave Thorin! We have to go!" He looked at his brother, then at her, before shaking his hand off his arm.

"No," he said, though it was clear it killed him to say it. "I can't leave Cira here alone." He looked at the stunned young woman, and there was a clear message in his eyes.

I will not abandon you.

Cirashala now stood at a precipitous confluence. If she stayed on the path, she might be found by the elves, or she might survive to the edge of the forest alive, as long as that edge was only a few days away at most. But, if she left the path, then she, as well as the company, would have to face the giant spiders. Terror filled her at the very thought of the hideous beasts. She couldn't handle even a tiny spider, let alone one the size of a small car! But as she stared at the young prince, clearly torn in his loyalties, she realized something.

She couldn't make him choose.

Reluctantly, she stepped forward, her heart racing faster than she ever thought possible. Blue orbs locked with conflicted brown, and the young woman's feet left the elven path as she plunged headlong at full speed into a dark, dank, spider-infested forest.

No matter what happened, no matter what they may face, she would not force Kili to have to choose between his loyalty to his uncle, and his caring for her. She did not know for sure if he loved her or not, and she definitely was not sure about how she felt, after the sudden, startling revelation that he may care about her more than a friend should. She did not know if the spiders were still there, or if they had moved on. She did not know if the elves would receive them, capture them, or let them pass. She did not know if, by her presence, they ran out of food sooner than they did, and would starve to death before the elves found them. She did not know much of anything anymore.

But one thing she did know. She would not stand between Kili and his kin. No matter what may come, they would all face it together…or perish in the process.

By the time they caught up with the others, the stag was nowhere to be found…and neither was the elven path.

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