Hello, everyone!
This is not my first fanfiction, but it is the first one based on "The Hobbit" and its amazing characters. I would be deeply grateful if you told me what you think about this. Every review will be appreciated.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit. This piece of writing is purely of entertainment.
Chapter One
There was no daylight inside the dungeon, merely a scattering of lanterns tasked to fend off the darkness, and to show them the way as they were hauled to their cells.
Angry voices of his kin floated around him when Fíli was suddenly pushed to the side, where an open door awaited for him. But, barely did he take a couple of steps towards it than he was forced to halt – and the hand of that blasted elf guard reached into his coat once more, wrenching out the spare knife he had tried to hide. He sighed in frustration, but he didn't get the chance to curse the elf properly. The guard gave him a hefty shove, making him stumble forward and into the ill-lit room.
The door slammed shut behind him.
His first thought, once the guard walked away, was to bolt for the bars. A part of him had already known that he couldn't break free, yet he was willing to make an attempt. Giving up without a fight wasn't an option for him. Unfortunately, the only thing he managed was to bruise his shoulder and become even more exhausted, after which he stopped to lean against a wall, listening to the shouts and clangs that had begun to echo through the dungeon.
He wasn't alone, as it turned out. Some of the others were doing the same he had, throwing themselves at their doors. About a few steps to his right, Dwalin collided with the bars with all the strength he could muster while, from what appeared to be the level below, Dori and Nori both groaned, struggling to make their own escape.
"Leave it! There's no way out!"
In spite of the clamour, Fíli recognised Balin's voice.
"This is no Orc dungeon", the elderly dwarf continued from the distance. He paused shortly, waiting for the racket to die down. "These are the Halls of the Woodland Realm. No one leaves here, but by the King's consent."
We shall see about that. Fíli tilted his head as he looked through the bars, checking if there were any guards close by. Having found none of them, he quickly reached under the back of his coat, and a smirk flickered at the corner of his mouth once he pulled out a spare knife.
He turned it in his hand. The blade was shorter than the others from his cache, and its handle a bit crooked, which rendered it a bad choice for throwing. But, it might just be thin enough to fit into the lock that kept him here. The keyhole was about the right size, now that he gave it a closer look. It wasn't long before a plan started to form in his head, and he lowered himself to his knees, squinting while he examined the lock in the feeble light.
"I already tried that", a voice said behind him.
His heart skipped a beat. He whirled around with the knife in his grip, the memories of his training kicking in as the prisoner he had failed to notice leaned out of the furthest, darkest corner of the cell. However, the real shock ensued when he saw a woman emerge from the shadows.
Meanwhile, she peered back at him. Her face was terribly pale, betraying a person who had seen little to no sunlight for a long time. Yet, that wasn't the reason why he caught himself staring. There was dirt, smeared over her cheeks and across the shirt she was wearing, down the trousers obviously too large for her, as though she had been digging somewhere in the forest before she was captured.
"It's not going to work", she added, "You can't pick the lock. Especially not with that salad knife you're holding."
"Salad knife?", he repeated, slightly offended. But, he suppressed the urge to retort. "Who are you?"
"Excuse me, but this is my cell. Give me your name first and I'll give you mine." He didn't answer, though, holding his ground, and she pressed her lips for a moment. "I see you've run into a nest giant spiders, as well."
It dawned on him that he hadn't pulled all of the web off his clothes. On the other hand, neither had she. A few threads were hanging off her shoulders as she stood up, moving to sit on a less shady spot on the floor.
"It appears we have something in common", he said.
"Aye. And that's where our similarities end."
The woman's hand went for her sleeve and he instantly tensed, waiting for her concealed weapon – only to find her pull out something small and greyish out of her shirt. Having grasped it with both hands, she carefully settled it on her lap. And, for a few seconds, Fili was convinced that the Mirkwood air was still playing tricks on him.
"Haven't you seen a rabbit before?", she asked, her eyes darting from him to the blade, "Put that thing down, for Valar's sake. You're starting to worry me."
He lowered his hand, though he didn't sheathe the knife yet. Frankly, he wasn't sure what to think of her.
"How did you –" He halted mid-sentence. The woman had just pulled out a carrot out of her pocket – a real, orange carrot – and passed it to the rabbit, which began to nibble on it at once. Fíli awkwardly cleared his throat. "Are you hiding any more creatures up your sleeves?"
"His name is Tancred", she replied in a brisk tone, probably irked by the word 'creature'. "And no, he's the only one." Having glanced down, she fished out another carrot, breaking off a large chunk of it. But, barely did she pop it in her mouth when she looked up at him, and she extended her hand with the remaining piece. "Want some?"
"Uh, no. It's all yours."
"As you wish."
Once he convinced himself that she was harmless, more or less, he turned his back on her. He had already spent too much time on talking, and the lock wasn't going to pick itself. As he pushed the thoughts about her aside, he moved back to the keyhole, giving it another once-over before he eased his knife into it. And then he decided to try his luck by turning the handle to the right.
The blade snapped. A curse in Khuzdul escaped him.
"Fíli?", Kíli's voice called out, somewhere on his far left. "Fíli, what happened?"
"Nothing", he replied, "I'm all right."
Glaring at the broken knife, he reached for the keyhole in hopes that he would retrieve the piece inside. It took him a while, and quite of bit of scraping with his fingertips until he eventually succeeded. However, as he held up the shard to see it clearer, something inside his chest clenched.
"You should've listened", the woman pointed out quietly. By the time he faced her again, she had sat up straighter on the floor. "It looked nice, to be honest. For a salad knife."
Fíli threw her a withering look. Although the knife had been forged far from perfectly, it was his. In fact, it was the first weapon he had made, back in the forges of Ered Luin, where he used to work by uncle Thorin's side as his apprentice. He was always proud of that knife.
Even when Kíli called it a toothpick once.
Just ignore her. She wouldn't understand. Breaking out of his reverie, he sheathed the knife and hid it along with the tip. If the guards had heard the noise, he wasn't about to let them know what had made it. But, then he glanced over his shoulder, abruptly aware that his odd cellmate had seen everything. The notion sent him on edge, leaving him to wonder what she would do should the elves arrive.
"I won't tell the guards if you don't", she said. And despite his wariness, he bowed his head slightly in relief.
"Thank you." Having assured himself that the knife was well-hidden under his coat, he sat down, settling in the corner nearest to the door. With no more means to escape, there was nothing else he could do. He might as well start with the introductions. "I'm Fili, by the way."
"So I've heard." She raised an eyebrow. "Just Fili?"
"Just Fili."
It wasn't a lie, though he had omitted some details. In the meantime, a hint of a smile played across her face.
"Just Olwen."
A long silence descended between them, interrupted only by the water rippling somewhere outside their cell. The woman – no, Olwen – smiled down at the rabbit in her lap, stroking its back once it was done eating, and Fíli frowned. Curiosity had slowly, but inevitably got the better of him.
"I'm surprised they let you keep your, um, Tancred."
"They took him away at first. But, the elf who brought me here, she returned him to me. Gave me some food for him, too. She still does, from time to time." Olwen moved her hand as her greyish companion sniffed her fingers. "I didn't expect that from a group of uptight, tree-worshipping folk."
"Who are you talking to?"
Fíli turned towards the bars the second Kíli spoke up. "I'm not alone. It seems I have a cellmate."
There was a small pause. "He's not an Orc, is he?"
"Not in the slightest", Olwen replied loud enough for him to hear, her eyes never straying from Tancred.
"You're a woman." Kíli's voice was suddenly low in astonishment. "How on earth did you get here?"
"Just like you, I imagine. By doing what I shouldn't have."
A murmur consisting of multiple voices reached their side of the dungeon. The rest of the company seemed to have shared Kíli's surprise, by the sound of it.
"What did she say?", Oin asked all of a sudden.
"Here, Oin, let me fix your trumpet", another voice, undoubtedly Bofur's, chose to cut in, "Does the lass know how we can leave this establishment, by any chance?"
"If she knew, I think she'd be gone already", Fíli replied, taken aback when Olwen gave him an odd look. He returned his gaze to the bars. "Any news on Thorin?"
"No", Kíli replied, "Not yet." There was another, longer stop before he asked: "Fíli, do you think uncle's all right?"
Fíli didn't know how to answer that.
Leaning back until he felt the cold stone against his head, he didn't dare to imagine that something had happened to Thorin. The elves had dragged their uncle away the moment they had walked into the Elvenking's Halls, but that seemed to be ages ago, and plenty of things could happen in that span of time. Fíli kept telling himself to stay level-headed, for the company's sake, yet he dreaded the possibilities. The elves weren't fond of dwarves, after all.
But, likewise, Thorin wasn't too pleased to speak with Thranduil or his kin, given the decade-old grudge he harboured. Fíli didn't blame him for that, nor will he. But, he knew that, with Thorin and the Elvenking in the same room, any conversation could turn volatile.
He let out a weary sigh. It wasn't enough that Gandalf had left them to fend for themselves in a dismal, spider-infested forest, and that they lost their burglar on their way to the dungeon. While he briefly closed his eyes, he pondered whether this day could get any worse.
"He'll be fine", he replied, "He's uncle." As his brother humourlessly chuckled to himself, Fíli took his chance to change the subject. "Who was the last to see Bilbo?"
"I did", Bofur chimed in, "And since he's not locked in here, with us, it's safe to say he escaped the elves. That is, if something hadn't eaten him before they found him."
"You're a joy to be around, aren't ye?", Dwalin gritted out.
"Settle down, brother", Balin decided to intervene, "Bilbo is alive, Bofur. That I'm sure. If he made it through the Misty Mountains, he would find his way out of the forest."
"That's reassuring", Ori chimed in, "But, what about us?"
Fíli turned away from the door, not wishing to hear the rest. But, then he recoiled, having suddenly found Olwen's face inches away from his – while his hand was already up his tunic and on his knife. He hadn't even heard her approach until she was this close. Clenching his jaw, he inwardly cursed himself for being caught off-guard.
"I didn't mean to startle you", Olwen said apologetically, kneeling beside him, "It's a bit warmer over here." While she sneaked a look through the bars for herself, she plucked a strand of spiderweb from behind her ear. "So, your uncle is up there with the Elvenking, no less."
"Is there something you wish to ask?"
"Hey, there's no need to be waspish. I'm not after your life story. Or your secrets." She shrugged soon after. "But, I must say I didn't expect this when I woke up today."
Keeping an eye on her, he reluctantly loosened the grip on the weapon. "You mentioned the Elvenking."
"I did."
"Did you meet him? Before you came here, I mean."
"I saw him briefly, in the distance. We never talked, so I can't tell you what he's like." Her brow furrowed soon after. "He has prettier hair than mine, though."
His wry smile faded as they exchanged glances. At that moment, while she was in the light of a nearby lantern, he noticed how young she really was. He also wondered what she had done to deserve a cell under the Woodland Realm. She didn't strike him as dangerous, especially not with the tender way she was holding that rabbit of hers.
However, appearances could be deceiving. That was the lesson he had learnt not so long ago from Bilbo, who had come as a surprise on quite a few occasions.
"What can you tell me about the dungeon?"
"You're not fiddling around, eh?", she joked, but then her expression turned solemn, "Well, you can't get out of the cell without a key – which you know by now. As for the guards, that's another problem. Their shifts keep changing, and they always come and go at different times. I tried to find a pattern of sorts, but I had no luck so far."
That was something he hadn't expected from her. He leaned closer, bracing his elbows against his knees.
"What about the front door?", he asked in a low voice, in case a guard moved past their cell unannounced, "That can't be the only entrance to the Halls."
"You'll have to ask someone else about that. I only know of the main entrance, since they escorted me through it."
Fíli gave a nod, letting it all sink in. There was much more to her than it meets the eye, and the way she had talked about the dungeon made him certain of it. Mahal knew what else she was keeping for herself.
However, he was ready to bet that she wanted to escape just as much as he did. And the idea of joining forces, if only for a short time, didn't seem ridiculous anymore.
"Olwen, if my kin and I made an escape –", he began.
"That's a big if, after what I've told you."
"I know. But, if we somehow escaped these cells, and found a way to rescue my uncle..." He paused while he gauged her reaction. "Would you come with us?"
As he had expected, there was doubt all over her face. Having shifted into a more comfortable position in his corner, he opted for a different approach.
"You would follow us only for a short while. We'll part ways in Laketown. Our path will take us through it, anyway. You can go anywhere you wish from there."
"I can't leave."
"There's always hope."
"Fíli, I wasn't captured. I turned myself in."
Words left him. He stared at her, his mind reeling from the last four words, yet he found his lips unwilling to move as she leaned a cheek against one of the metal bars.
She couldn't be serious.
"The elves didn't capture me", she almost whispered, "I went to the forest to look for them and I – I wanted them to take me to their dungeon." She shrugged soon after. "I also ran into those spiders, but it wasn't that bad. If anything, the elves found me faster than I'd bargained for."
"But –" Fíli stalled, having finally found his voice. "But, you said you'd tried to pick the lock."
"Not to escape. To make sure the door couldn't open."
"What about the guards? And their shifts?"
"That was another precaution."
Durin's beard. His instinct shouted at him to back away while he still could. Yet, he struggled against it, doing his best not to have her notice what was happening.
"Speaking of the guards, I suggest you take this", Olwen said, "It's better than the food you'll get from them."
She reached out to him a heartbeat later. Fíli blinked in disbelief, having realised that she had saved that piece of carrot for him after all.
Looking up from the vegetable, and up to her eyes, he once again didn't know what to say. However, he pulled himself together faster this time. He also pushed back every question he had, although he was seriously tempted to ask them. They would have to wait for another day.
He grasped the carrot from her and took a bite.