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.

As always, please review, favorite, and follow -it is really encouraging :D

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Bilbo stayed up in the tree far longer than he intended to. While there was still a tangible fear of heights lingering in his mind, the desire for sweet, fresh air, glorious sunlight, and, above all, peace and quiet far outweighed his desire to return his feet to the ground. He lost track of time, so overjoyed he was at the respite from their troubles, however brief it would be. He closed his eyes, letting the sun warm his serene face as he listened to the butterflies flitting about, and tried to forget about the unpleasant news he would have to impart to an already grumpy company.

Suddenly, things grew very quiet. He opened his eyes, and blinked in surprise. Where had the butterflies gone? Why did it seem that the sun, oh so bright before, had grown dimmer? Why was the fresh, pleasant breeze smelling fouler? A bad feeling gnawed within him, and he reached into his vest pocket and fingered the ring. Taking a deep breath, he began to quickly descend the tree, now keenly aware and unsettled about just how high above the ground he was.

As he descended further into the wood, he noticed it seemed a lot darker and dimmer than before. It did not feel like a natural dimming of the sun, like when a cloud passed between it and the earth. No, there was something rather sinister about it, like some sort of evil presence had made itself known. The hobbit was rather startled at the change, and it seemed like he could actually see the malevolence in the air, could feel it crawling across his skin. Only he could not see it with his eyes. Yet, he could still see it.

It unsettled the hobbit greatly.

He reached the forest floor none too soon, in his mind, only to face an even more alarming predicament. Bilbo looked around as panic quickly welled up inside him. He ran around, searching desperately, until the dim light grew dimmer, and the forest faded into the night. But no matter how far he peered into the darkness, no matter how much he called their names, no matter how much he strained his hobbit ears to listen for their calls in response…there was no sign of the company, or the young woman.

He was alone. In complete silence and darkness, he was alone.

The hobbit finally stopped searching, for he realized it was futile stumbling about in the dark. Sweat dripped from the curls now plastered to his forehead. He fumbled about until he found a tree, and sat down at the base of the trunk, thoroughly and utterly defeated. This was one of the most miserable moments of his entire life. Not only was he now good and lost, but he'd also lost his companions, along with what little water remained amongst their provisions. The food was long gone by now, of that he was certain, and there was little hope of obtaining more in this sick, endless forest.

It would do no good to do anything now, except wait for daylight, and hope that he would find his companions tomorrow.

And then what? He thought to himself as he felt weariness start to overtake him. No food, soon no water, and a forest that never ends.

He thought about his lovely hobbit-hole. The cozy fire in the fireplace, his comfortable bed and armchair. His books and maps. He thought about his lush garden, and his full larders. He thought about the bees buzzing about the flowers he had so carefully cultivated. He thought about his wattle fence, and the handcrafted gate leading out to the road down to Hobbiton. He thought about all his neighbors and friends, the Green Dragon, the market. He even thought about the Sackville-Bagginses, though he quickly dismissed that thought. He certainly did not want to add to his misery!

Drowsiness fell on him, and his eyelids closed. His stomach rumbled and thoughts of bacon, eggs, toast and butter swirled deep in his thought, when suddenly he felt something touch him. Why was his hand sticky? What sort of string was this?

Bilbo tried to move, but to no avail. Something had tied his legs together with the same sticky rope that was on his hand. He panicked and tried to stand, only to fall over. Turning, his eyes beheld the biggest spider he had ever seen in his life. Giant, bulbous eyes stared back at him. The spider hissed and charged. Hairy legs struggled as the spider tried to resume his task at wrapping him, but the hobbit was having none of it. Bilbo was very, very glad he had come to his senses when he did, and did his best to fight the creature off. If he had stayed asleep any longer, he wouldn't have been able to move at all!

He fought long and hard against the spider, desperate to be rid of this foul creature before he became its supper. Beating it with his hands even as it tried to still him with its venomous pincers, the hobbit suddenly remembered the small sword at his side. Fumbling for it, he just managed to grasp the hilt. He pulled the blue sword from its scabbard, and the spider jumped back in surprise and hissed again. He quickly cut his legs loose, and stumbled to his feet.

"Back you!" he cried, lunging at the spider. "Back, attercop!" He struck the spider's bulbous eyes with his sword, and it screamed and leapt, spasmed and writhed, flung out its legs and jerked. He struck it again, and the spider writhed once more. Its legs curled up, and the shudders stilled as it died. Adrenaline surged through him, and his breaths grew quicker and quicker.

Suddenly, all went dark, and the hobbit hit the forest floor.

Tauriel could not help but notice her patrol looking at her, then at Legolas. Questioning was in their eyes, and Mareth and a few others looked quite smug. She could swear she almost knew what they were thinking.

Captain Tauriel couldn't even be a captain for one day before Lord Legolas had to interfere.

She did what she could to keep the flame of embarrassment from her cheeks. Her eyes met Mareth's, and she bristled at the smirk she got in return. She knew she was being compared to Captain Daithon again, and this time, she could not refute the charge. She turned toward High Captain Legolas, and saluted him.

"Hir-nin Legolas," she addressed him in the Sindarin tongue. Though she and her patrol were all Silvan elves, the king had mandated that he and his lords be addressed in the Sindarin tongue of his household, not the Silvan tongue of his people. "We are honored to have you join us today." Legolas saluted back, before looking at the patrol group.

"Captain Tauriel has informed me of what transpired on your patrol," he stated, this time in the Silvan tongue. "Galmar's death is a grievous loss. May he walk amongst his fathers in the Blessed Realm." All of the elves bowed their heads in respect for the fallen.

"Now," Captain Legolas spoke again, "Though I am here, I am not your captain today." Murmurs sounded through the group, and he held up his hand.

"I am not your captain today," he repeated, before glancing at Tauriel, "but I am here as an observer, and a fellow patrol. My Lord wishes to monitor the spider situation at our borders, and I am here to assess the situation for myself." He turned to her, and nodded.

"Now, Captain Tauriel," he addressed her, "It is your patrol. Lead on." She nodded to him, very much relieved that he didn't scold her or undermine her in front of her patrol. However, she was also very nervous. She knew that this was her final chance to prove she belonged as a Captain of the Guard, and if she failed, she would be relegated back to being merely a patrol. With the weight of his gaze upon her, she squared her shoulders and turned toward her patrol.

"Nairon, report." Nairon stepped forward and saluted her.

"Captain Tauriel," he replied. "According to the others, the remaining spiders advanced deeper into the wood. They also came across what appears to be dwarf tracks near the forest path." Her eyes opened wide, and she glanced worriedly at Legolas.

"Dwarves?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Ayeth, Captain," he replied. "The tracks crossed paths with the spider tracks, and Mareth traced them back to the forest path. It appears they were traveling east when they left the path, and then began walking aimlessly, backtracking their steps many times, and wandering further into our realm, where they encountered the spiders." Her eyes narrowed.

Spiders were bad enough. But outsiders traveling in their realm without leave? Many strange creatures had entered their wood in recent years, and with dwarves, it was impossible to tell whether or not they were servants of evil. She was not as highly educated as some, but all elves knew of the slaughter of King Thingol of Doriath over the Nauglamir in the first age, as well as the many betrayals dwarves have wrought against their kin over the ages. And who could forget that it was dwarves and their greed that awakened the Balrog of Moria, and sent their own kin fleeing to the northern part of the Greenwood? Her adoptive father and mother were amongst those who fled Amon Lanc when the balrog awakened, and there was no great love of dwarves amongst her people because of it.

"Are the dwarves dead?" she asked, looking at Mareth. She shook her head.

"There were no fallen where the trails crossed," she confirmed, though Tauriel noticed she was looking at High Captain Legolas as she answered, clearly undermining her authority. "There were signs of an ambush, and the spiders must have carried them off." Legolas looked at Tauriel, and the others followed suit.

"Hir-nin Legolas," she addressed him, "Might have have a word?" He nodded, and they stepped away.

"Hir-nin," she repeated, feeling a little anxious about the situation. "I am prepared to fight the spiders, and defend our Lord's realm. But, when we catch up to the spiders and slay them, if the dwarves are still alive, what do you wish me to do? Am I to order their capture, or execute them?" Legolas looked at her for a moment, and her nervousness grew.

"What is our law about intruders that are Free Folk?" he asked her.

"They are to be brought before the king for questioning," she answered. The laws she did know. "But, hir-nin…they are dwarves." His jaw tightened, and she knew he did not care for dwarves, either.

"Ayeth," he affirmed, "They are dwarves. However, they are still counted amongst the Free Folk, and, as such, our laws are clear."

"But, hir-nin," she argued. Dropping her voice low, she leaned in. "King Thingol was killed by dwarves. If we bring them before the king—" He cut her off.

"Are you suggesting my lord's guard cannot protect him?" he asked, his eyes flashing angrily. "Or that my father cannot protect himself?" Her eyes widened, and she stepped back.

"No, my lord," she spoke quickly. "My lord's guard and the king himself are perfectly capable of defending him. Forgive me, hir-nin Legolas! I meant no offense!" Mareth smirked, and Legolas turned toward her.

"Do you find something amusing, Patrol Mareth?" The smirk faded, and she quickly bowed her head.

"No, my lord," she replied demurely. Tauriel bristled at the insolence, but it would not do her any favors if she were to react. She had to keep calm, as a Captain of the Guard. It was bad enough that she had insulted the king's son. She did not need to further prove her incompetence as a Captain of the Guard by taking offense so easily herself!

Squaring her shoulders, she turned toward her patrol. She did not feel confident at all right now, but she would not let on to anyone else that she was afraid she would lose her position. She would not prove them all right!

"Patrol!" she commanded, "Here is your task. First and foremost of concern are still the spiders, as they are an immediate danger to our people and our realm. We shall follow the trail carefully, and slay all the spiders and destroy their nest when we come upon them. Do not let down your guard." She glanced at Legolas, then back at her patrol.

"If any of the dwarves are alive, do not let them escape!" she warned. "They are to be bound and brought before the king for questioning. If you must, defend yourselves, but try to keep them alive so they can speak when questioned." Turning toward Mareth, she spoke.

"Mareth," she said authoritatively, "Lead us to where the dwarves and spiders crossed paths." The patrol glanced at Legolas once more, before nodding. Putting arrows to the string, the group plunged into the trees after her, eyes and ears attuned to everything around them.

She and her patrol would not be caught off guard. She would not fail in her task to lead them. She would prove once and for all that she belonged in the Captains of the Guard. And she would make damn certain that every single living dwarf was captured and brought before the king, so they could answer to the crime of wandering in King Thranduil's realm without leave. And whatever other crimes such wretched folk were sure to have committed along the way.

She was Tauriel, Captain of the Guard. And no dwarf would ever be permitted to enter her lord's realm. Not on her watch.

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Hir-nin- My Lord (Sindarin
Ayeth- Yes (Neo-Sindarin)

Thank you all who are still reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing this story! Life has been absolutely INSANE the past year- we finally finished building our house, having worked 6-7 days a week solid since last October, and are now working on building our farm, planting fruit trees and our half acre garden (it is planting season right now!), building our fences and chicken coop, trying to sort through and move in, and running my small business. It's still pretty chaotic, but hopefully updates will be more frequent now! We can hope, anyway lol!

Please review, favorite, and follow! It really encourages me! :D :D :D