Soooooo my lovely readers and followers. In celebration of the approaching conclusion to what has been the most epic life experience, namely the end of the Middle Earth saga - with the final Hobbit movie coming out next month - I have decided to start uploading the story that I wrote for my favorite character in the Hobbit book/movie trilogy... none other than Bard the Bowman.

Since he is grossly underused in the book (although I perfectly understand Sir Tolkien's choice, as Bard is much too similar to Aragorn), the story will be based for the most part on the second and third movies, where the wonderful Peter Jackson gave Bard a much larger and deeper part to play.

What I wish to mention is that this story is a work-in-progress due to obvious reasons. But, I have already written past the end of the second movie, basing the "unofficial" chapters on the book and what I imagine will happen in the last movie, based on how the action flows out of the second installment.

So I have a question for you, my lovely readers, and for that I'm going to ask you to pay a little visit to my profile... it's right there at the top, in a poll where I'm going to ask you to vote so I'll know your heart's desire and also so I can know how often I can update the story.

With that said, enjoy this first chapter darlings and toss me a little review to let me know if you love it or hate it. I promise I don't bite and I absolutely love replying to reviews and chatting with y'all so don't be shy... step into the light ;)

P.S. Every The Hobbit character belongs to Sir J.R.R. Tolkien; I only own Faelwen :)

1. Guests in Mirkwood

My name is Brand, son of Bain and grandson of Bard, the Dragon Slayer, who, in the days of old, restored the ruined city of Dale and became King of the Lowlands.

And here I will tell you a story... as it was told to me by my grandfather and his Queen.

I will tell you the story of Bard the Bowman and the slaying of Smaug the dragon.

I will tell you the story of how the city of Dale came to forge a strong alliance with Thranduil, the Elvenking of Mirkwood.

I will tell you the story of how Bard, King of Dale, came to tie a long lasting friendship with Elrond of Rivendell and with Gandalf the wizard.

I will tell you the story of how Dale came to have an Elven Queen... and how she sacrificed everything in the name of the love she bore my grandfather.

oOoOo

It was late afternoon when Legolas finally returned with Tauriel and the others, only to find Faelwen waiting for him at the gates.

"What's this?" she asked.

Her inquiry had been triggered by the fact that Legolas' group had returned along with thirteen Dwarves.

"Prisoners... one of them asked to speak to my father." the prince replied.

Averting his cerulean gaze to the group he pointed to a dark haired, blue eyed Dwarf.

"Leave this one with me. Take the rest to the dungeons."

After Tauriel and the others left to fulfill his order, he finally addressed the remaining Dwarf in the Common Tongue.

"Come with me."

Offering a short glance to the she-Elf, the Dwarf then followed Legolas until at long last he found himself before Thranduil's throne.

"Well, well... Thorin Oakenshield..." the king stated after Legolas had left to check on the prisoners.

The sly smile which curved his lips at those words left Thorin wondering if he was being mocked, or if the Elf truly was sincere in his apparently friendly demeanor.

"What brings you onto my lands?"

Keeping silent, the Dwarf merely stared down the Elf king until Thranduil's brow twitched in annoyance.

"You will not speak to me?" he demanded.

"Not like this... I want someone else to be here."

His mind was still hazy from the effects of the forest air, but he had somehow managed to remember Gandalf's warning, in case they were captured by the Elves. When Thranduil tilted his head to the side and offered him an inquisitive frown, he spoke again.

"I want Faelwen to be here."

Straightening his posture, the king's frown now took on a rather suspicious air.

"How do you know her?"

"A mutual friend told me to seek her, should you offer us your hospitality." Thorin replied somewhat sarcastically.

While he had no knowledge of just who this woman was, he trusted Gandalf's judgment enough by now, to follow his advice. Besides, anyone who could get them out of that situation was useful. With a displeased expression, Thranduil now turned to one of the guards standing nearby.

"Bring Faelwen to me."

Minutes later, the female ascended the stony path leading to the throne; she was still garbed in the usual hunting attire: dark green pants, a tunic painted in a lighter shade of emerald – its edges cut in the pointy pattern of leaves – the edges of which reached to just below her knees and a corset of armor covered in dark brown leather. Her forearms were strapped in steel bracers, and earthen boots covered her legs to just beneath her kneecaps, a thin, silvery belt tied around her slender waist. Her garb was completed by a chestnut leather belt holding a quiver full of arrows to her hip, a longbow which had been gifted to her during her recent visit to Lothlórien, a pair of short swords strapped to her back, as well as twin daggers tied to the back of her waist.

Her hazel hair was swept back; two thin braids trailed along her temples, starting just above her ears and met at the back of her head to hold the rest of her hair which had been left to hang loosely along her back. However, the thing which drew Thorin's attention to her, more than her general appearance or the fact that she was an Elf, was the jewel she wore around her neck – a milky white flower in full bloom, its intricately designed petals holding a sapphire cut in the form of a dewdrop. It made such a powerful contrast to her otherwise shady appearance, and Thorin could have bet his life that it wasn't made out of silver but, in fact, mithril.

"You summoned me, my Lord?" she asked, stopping a few steps away from Thorin and looking straight into Thranduil's eyes.

She offered no bow to the Elvenking; it actually made Thorin wonder just who she was as he remembered, from the days of old, that Thranduil was greatly respected by his kin and that he allowed no boldness from the ones standing before him.

"How do you know Thorin Oakenshield?" he replied, briefly nodding toward the Dwarf.

Momentarily widening her eyes, the girl turned to glance to Thorin; so he was the one Gandalf had spoken of in the message he had sent no more than a few hours before, via a squirrel which had agreed to carry the note to her. In it, he had detailed their quest and had worded his worry that their group would be captured by the Elves. It seemed he had been right to worry...

"I know him." she stated, looking back to the king.

"That is not what I asked." Thranduil now smiled, seemingly amused by her elusive answer.

Deciding to address the matter at another time, he walked past the two and looked down upon the caverns which sheltered his people.

"Some may imagine a noble quest is at hand..." he spoke, addressing Thorin. "A quest to reclaim a homeland... and slay a dragon..."

Now moving to stand before the Dwarf again, he continued.

"I myself suspect a more prosaic motive... attempted burglary, or something of that ilk."

Staring down the silent Thorin, he then leaned forward until their faces were at the same level.

"You have found a way in... you seek that which would bestow upon you the right to rule. The King's Jewel... the Arkenstone. It is precious to you beyond measure..."

Once again, a sly smile stretched upon his lips, as he straightened his posture.

"I understand that... there are gems in the mountain that I too desire. White gems... pure starlight..."

Still quiet, Thorin now offered him an expectant gaze... was Thranduil about to propose him a deal?

"I offer you my help..." Thranduil finally stated.

"I am listening..." Thorin replied with a smile which showed that his suspicions had been confirmed.

"I will let you go, if you but return what is mine."

"A favor for a favor..."

"You have my word... one king to another."

Having turned his back on Thranduil and Faelwen to glance over the caverns, Thorin then suddenly spoke up.

"I would not trust Thranduil... the great king... to honor his word, should the end of all days be upon us!" he shouted, his booming voice echoing into the caves.

Suddenly whirling around, he pinned his enraged gaze upon the Elvenking while Faelwen now clenched her jaw; she had heard much of the pride and stubbornness of Dwarves, but to refuse Thranduil's offer – as she was sure Thorin was about to do – was utterly foolish.

"You... who lack all honor! We came to you once... starving... homeless... seeking your help... but you turned your back! You turned away from the suffering of my people... and the inferno that destroyed us!"

It was at the last statement that Thranduil, who had been staring at Thorin in shock until then – apparently stunned by the fact that the Dwarf had had the gall to throw offenses in his face – seemed to regain his senses. Stepping forward, he once more leaned down and scowled heavily in the Dwarf's face.

"Do not talk to me of dragon fire! I know its wrath and ruin!"

As he spoke, his words pierced through the concealing enchantment which veiled the hideous scars left upon his face.

"I have faced the Great Serpents of the North!" he hissed.

Stepping back and allowing the enchantment to once more return his face to its normal appearance, he seemed to settle down from his anger.

"I warned your grandfather of what his greed would summon... but he would not listen. You are just like him..."

Moving to ascend the steps leading to his throne, he waved his hand and watched as two of the guards now restrained Thorin.

"Stay here, if you will, and rot... a hundred years is a mere blink in the life of an Elf. I'm patient... I can wait..."

When the guards dragged him away, the king was left to stare down the girl.

"How do you know the Dwarf?"

He suspected by now that a certain wizard was involved. But he would be damned if he would allow Gandalf to drag Faelwen into any dangers; his close friendship with Elrond was much too important to Thranduil, and Elrond trusted him to take care of the girl he had raised as his own.

"I received word that they might pass this way. My Lord... please reconsider your decision. Let them go..."

Her plea, however, had little effect on Thranduil despite his deep affection for her. Seating himself on the throne at long last, he motioned for her to depart.

"Leave me for now..." he said, his tone sounding genuinely warm this time. "I will think on it."

oOoOo

Later that night Faelwen was down in the dungeons, checking on the Dwarves. It seemed that despite the old grudge between the two races, the prisoners were not ill treated; then again, it was not in the nature of Elves to mistreat any living thing. Even now, she and two other guards had brought them thick blankets so that they would not freeze in their cells during the night.

"Excuse me..." Balin said when she opened his cell door to offer him the blanket.

Setting her azure eyes upon the white haired Dwarf, Faelwen offered him an expectant gaze.

"If it's not too bold to ask... might I have a word with your king?"

Out of their lot he was the one who had the best way with words; and unlike Thorin, he was not quick to anger. Perhaps, if he could convince the Elves to let him speak to Thranduil, he could make a deal with the king and get all of them out. His hopes did decrease somewhat, when Faelwen arched a brow at his request.

"I'm afraid, master Dwarf, that the king has no desire to speak to any of you... at least not yet."

She was well versed in Thranduil's moods by then; he had been terribly angered by Thorin's words, even if she knew the Dwarf had only spoken the truth. Briefly glancing to Thorin who was glaring at her from behind his prison bars, she then returned her focus to Balin when the elder Dwarf retrieved his blanket from her hand. The utter disappointment visible in his expression, however, did rouse her sympathy.

"I will speak to him on your behalf... the Feast of Starlight begins later this night. He will calm down after a while of celebrating with our people."

When Balin stared up at her the female finally smiled and winked at him.

"After all... Gandalf would be furious with me, if I left you here to rot." she whispered, careful not to be overheard by the other Elves currently giving out blankets to their prisoners.

Unbeknownst to her, however, Balin had not been the only one to hear her words. Hidden by the spell of his ring, Bilbo was listening to her... yes, clearly this was Faelwen; the one Gandalf had mentioned to them just before his departure. A few minutes later, when she left the dungeons, he followed her as fast as his little legs could carry him for she had a very fast pace, even for an Elf. What he failed to notice was that in the rush his clothes made enough noise so as to alert Faelwen of his presence. A few times she even stopped and glanced behind her, only to find no trace of anyone.

She suspected by now that the one following her was the Halfling Gandalf had mentioned in his letter. Thinking on it, she had not seen him among the prisoners... was he truly that good at moving around unseen, so as to deceive even the famed eyesight of the Elves? Setting her curiosity aside for the moment, she now led him to her chambers. Once there, she finally came to a halt and once more turned around, while Bilbo stopped dead in his tracks.

"I know you're there... master Hobbit." she said on a low tone. "You can come out... there are no guards here, I promise no harm will come to you."

Still hesitant, the Halfling now pondered on her words; then again, Gandalf had told them to seek her out should Thranduil make them his prisoners. Moving his hands behind his back, he clenched his jaw and readied his body to run away, before finally slipping the ring off. Had he not been starving and thirsty, dead tired and frightened, it would have amused him to see the she-Elf staring at him when he appeared before her eyes out of nowhere.

"So you are the Hobbit..." she said once she had recovered from the shock.

"Yes... my name is Bilbo Baggins."

Offering him a trace of smile, Faelwen finally removed her bow and quiver, setting them against the wall.

"It would seem that Gandalf's praises fall short of your actual skill at being stealthy."

Having slipped the ring into his pocket, while she had her back to him, Bilbo made his best attempt at a relaxed smile. Of course, he would not tell her of it, thus a small half-lie was in order.

"Yes, well... my kin are known for being light on their feet. We can make use of some small charms as well, to pass unseen."

Smiling at him over her shoulder, she reached to the back of her head to untie her hair.

"Good... you will need those skills tonight. I assume you are hungry..."

Watching as she retrieved what looked like a long mass of colored silk, the Hobbit nodded in reply to her inquiry; as if the loud grumbling of his stomach hadn't been enough to answer that question.

"Wait here until I change. You will come with me afterwards, to the halls where we feast. I will see to it that you receive a meal worthy of your skills." she smiled.

oOoOo

Half an hour later Bilbo was still trapped in the awe of just how beautiful Faelwen revealed herself before his eyes. A royal blue surcoat molded to her body, its wavy edges parting in front from the waist down to reveal the kirtle beneath painted in the color of freshly sprung grass. The long sleeves were opened up to her shoulders in the same wavy pattern, their edges sliding inaudibly along the floor as she walked, revealing her pale arms. A belt made of flowers encompassed her waist, and the jewel she had received at birth from Elrond cast rays of white and blue light around her, as the mithril and sapphire caught the shine of the moon which had barely risen upon the sky. Her hair was now gathered skillfully at the back of her head in a circle of loops. No other piece of jewelry adorned her, aside from a thin coronet from which strings of silver cascaded along the sides of her head.

It was one of her simplest attires, yet to Bilbo's eyes she was a sight more beautiful than anything he had ever seen. Now he understood all the tales about Elves, Men or even Dwarves falling in love with beautiful Elf maidens. He had even forgotten his hunger and exhaustion for the moment. However, a knock on her door snapped him out of that pleasant stupor.

"Hide..." Faelwen whispered as she walked past him.

Without a second thought he shoved his hand in his pocket and slipped the ring onto his finger, just when Faelwen opened the door to reveal Legolas standing in the hallway.

"Father said the feast is about to begin."

Briefly looking her over, he then smiled as they locked gazes.

"You look beautiful."

"Thank you, my Lord..."

When he wrinkled his nose, Faelwen giggled softly.

"You know I'm just teasing you..."

"I wish you wouldn't." he replied humorously. "Come..."

Though he understood very little of what they were saying, Bilbo did manage to slip outside without making any noise and now waited for the girl to move so that he could follow her.

oOoOo

'Now that's much better.'

A few good hours had passed since Bilbo had followed Faelwen into the main hall. With all the music and laughter no one heard him as he scurried around; the only thing he still had to be mindful of was to not accidentally bump into someone and cause panic. Faelwen had not disappointed him either... a short while after the feast had begun she had summoned one of the servants and had requested a meal to be set aside. Later she had briefly left the hall to carry the meal outside, setting it on a small natural ledge, hanging high above the Forest River.

It was probably one of the last warm nights of that autumn, and Bilbo had thoroughly enjoyed eating beneath the starry sky, seated in the soft grass that still smelled of summer flowers. For a while he almost felt as if he was back in Rivendell, their quest and the fiery terror which awaited him at its end, only a distant memory. Stretching his spine, he let out a content sigh. He couldn't even remember how many days had passed since his belly had been full like this. Good food, a warm night and wonderful music – which he could hear through the large glass doors of the celebration hall which had been left wide open that night. What more could he ask for? Well, other than a warm, soft bed to rest his aching bones.

While the Halfling had been enjoying his meal outside, Faelwen had kept a close watch on Legolas. He had left shortly after leading her to the hall, saying he was going to check on the prisoners. But ever since he had returned, his mood had been quite notably foul. Having had enough of it after a while, Faelwen now stood from her seat to the left of Thranduil's chair at the head of the long table. When the king looked to her, she leaned down to speak on a low tone in his ear.

"Might I have a word with Legolas, my Lord?"

"Of course..." he smiled lightly.

Returning his smile briefly, the female averted her gaze to the prince who had been listening to them from where he was seated at his father's right side. In spite of his inquisitive gaze, he too stood and followed Faelwen through one of the arches. Once they had stopped at the edge of the grassy ledge overseeing the river, the blond prince took a deep breath of the night air, exhaling it as a heavy sigh.

"Is your father still insisting upon it?"

"More and more often, recently..." the prince sighed again.

Lightly shaking her head, the young woman reached out to take his arm.

"Do not let it trouble you... he will understand one day."

"I wish he would understand sooner..."

Turning his cerulean eyes to Faelwen's fair countenance, Legolas offered her a tired gaze but fell silent for the moment listening as music drifted gracefully on the air, like a swan along the crystalline surface of a lake.

"You are one of the most beautiful women I have seen in all my years, I cannot deny that. But you are too much of a sister to me... I simply cannot bring myself to see you as my wife, no matter how much my father would wish it."

"I know..." she smiled warmly.

Reaching out she set a hand onto his smooth cheek, a shade of sorrow momentarily darkening her features.

"Do not let it burden you." she pleaded. "I don't like it when you're sad."

Ultimately unable to hold back a smile of his own, the prince now grasped her hand and placed a kiss to the back of her slender fingers.

"It's not just my father, Faelwen..."

Silence once more fell between them whilst Legolas turned to watch the foamy waters of the river hurrying downhill toward the lake, flowing like liquid silver beneath the moon hanging above them. Allowing him a few moments of respite, Faelwen finally spoke again.

"Why do you not tell him of your feelings for Tauriel?"

When he looked at her with widened eyes and an awed frown, the woman once more giggled.

"Do not think I didn't notice. I would not be surprised at all if your father noticed as well... perhaps that's his reason for insisting that you marry me."

"He would sooner disown me, than allow his only son to pledge himself to a Silvan Elf."

"Oh for goodness' sake..." she hissed in the Common Tongue. "I grow tired of all these distinctions between races. She's an Elf, what does it matter if she's Silvan or Sindar?"

Once more the wheat haired prince found that he could not hold back a smile. This was one of the reasons he loved her so much... she did not share his father's way of thinking, and to Legolas that was as refreshing as the chilly dawn. When she turned her frowning expression to him, however, the male's features moved away from humor.

"Tell him of how you feel... I will speak to him myself, if I must." she pleaded.

Silently the prince gently grasped her shoulders and turned her to face him before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss to her forehead.

"I will think on it..." he promised.

"You sound just like him, you know?"

Her somewhat jesting reply drew another smile from Legolas who now wrapped his arms around the slender female.

"I can't help it... I am his son, am I not?"

No more words came from either of them after his statement; at long last, whilst they were watching the stars together, Faelwen claimed that she would retire for the night. A second kiss, this time to her cheek, was Legolas' parting gift before he stepped back into the celebration hall. Mere moments afterwards, a light tug on her dress made her aware that Bilbo was there.

"Come, master Hobbit..." she whispered. "I am sure you could use a warm bed after everything you have been through."