I do not own the Hobbit or anything related to it.

Note: Point of views may jump around a bit (I'll try and avoid confusing you).

Chapter 1: Captured

When Kili came back they were gone, all of them somehow disappearing into forest below the swiftly sinking sun. Even the hobbit was nowhere to be found. The brunette inhaled and closed his eyes, trying to keep his head. They had to be around here somewhere.

Opening his eyes and looking around, the company archer let go of the breath he had been holding in. His throat itched to call out for the others and put an end to what was probably a well-executed prank but he quelled the feeling. Something felt off, wrong in a way Kili did not yet know.

He allowed his eyes to see beyond the veil of normality and expectations, looking for anything out of place. Not a hard task as almost everything was seemingly out of place. The broken arrows that were scattered around the clearing, the crushed bushes and unnaturally flat patches of sparse grass on the ground, the way everything was torn up; it all pointed to one thing; the company had fought an enemy and had either run or been captured.

It was looking more and more likely that it would be the latter as Kili bent forward to inspect one another more familiar object on the ground. There were two main reasons he believed this, one being that Fili would not just abandon him if there was danger, and the second being the fact if they had run, Bofur's beloved hat would not be in his hands at that moment.

Standing, the young dwarf observed the area. It appeared to clean, too structured to be an orcish attack, but he could be wrong. Only one way to tell.

Picking up one of the arrows, he studied it with careful, trained eyes. The workmanship was far more superior to that he had come to expect of orcs and even his own carefully crafted arrows. It was certainly too delicate to be the work of men leaving only one logical option; elves. Despite the circumstances, Kili grinned. Thorin was going to have a fit worthy of a king.

Bilbo Baggins was a hobbit of the Shire, not accustomed to being repeatedly threatened by the point of a sword, or arrow as the case might be. This now concerning common occurrence tended to complicate things a lot. Luckily he had had the good fortune to stumble upon the ring that now encompassed the middle finger on his right hand.

They had been surrounded when Bilbo had slipped on the ring, being sure that none of the elves saw him then or beforehand. If he was smart about it, he might just be able to use this to his and the dwarves advantage. Even now he was following them at a relatively safe distance, watching as the thirteen blindfolded captives were marched towards wherever the leader of the elves resided.

The fair-haired elf in the lead was talking in a low voice to the red-haired female at his side, too low for Bilbo to hear. So instead he focused on noting any injuries or other physical obstacle that the dwarves had acquired which would hinder any rescue attempt.

Midway through his careful observations Bilbo paused as something dawned on him. He went back and counted again, doing so a third and finally a fourth time before begrudgingly allowing it to sink in. In his mind he swore, using language that would shock most of his neighbours back home in the Shire. There were only twelve dwarves. The thirteenth was missing.

The hobbit held up one hand and began to slowly tick off each of the dwarves he saw. Balin and Bifur were towards the front of the line, seemingly the calmest of the group. Ori and Nori followed behind them along with their older brother, Dori, and Bombur. Oin was right at the front of the group and Gloin at the very back, almost side by side with Dwalin. Thorin and Fili were in front of the last pair, shoulders set in a proud stance. That left two dwarves.

Bilbo's eyes scanned the group again and settled on a form wedged between Bombur and Thorin. Bofur was almost unrecognisable without his hat; something he must have dropped back in the clearing. That left one and the hobbit did not have to scrounge his brain to find the name.

Kili.

No wonder Fili had been so agitated when they were first attacked. If he remembered correctly, Thorin had sent the younger of the two to look around the small clearing they had been resting in, a precaution they all accepted after being attacked by giant spiders. They had of course not accounted for being captured by elves no less.

Dwarves could be so stubborn, thought Bilbo despairingly, had they not been so eager to reach their mountain, nor had they disobeyed Gandalf's instructions; even though he had presented reasonable arguments against it; they would not now be in this position. That wouldn't help matters now though; all he could do was wait patiently for an opportunity. First he would free these twelve and then they could sort out what to do in means of searching for the youngest of the company. With luck, the beardless dwarf would be tracking their footsteps and would be easier to find.

With luck…Bilbo almost snorted. Luck seemed to have abandoned him ever since he agreed to this preposterous adventure, but he had given the dwarves his word; he would see their home returned to them or else die trying. And he was a Baggins, what was more he was a Took and Took's never went back on their words.

Legolas kept his gaze fixed ahead of him. He was tingling with anticipation. He had captured none other than Thorin Oakenshield, as well as the eleven dwarves in his company, a feat that would be sure to impress his father.

The fair-haired elf chanced a glance behind and was relieved to see that none of his quarries were injured; there were a few bumps and bruises, maybe a scratch or two but nothing that was of any serious damage. They had only used the necessary force they needed; it was not like Legolas wanted them dead or incapacitated, just subdued and Tauriel, being the excellent captain she was, had ensure that.

"They have chosen to resist in any way. Do you not find that concerning?"

Legolas turned to the ginger elf by his side.

"A wise choice. And in any case, if they had been planning something Tauriel, would it not be already in action?" Tauriel shook her head in disagreement with his statement.

"When we attacked, I saw thirteen heads, not twelve. Someone escaped before we had a chance to surround them, another dwarf most likely; he was certainly short enough to be one," she paused, "They have someone who is not yet under our control, someone who could set them free."

"Then that is something we must change." Legolas would not let such a victory slip from his fingers. The dwarves had trespassed into their land and for reasons that would intrigue his father and he himself was intending to find out. He turned to Tauriel, "I trust you can track this stray dwarf." Tauriel nodded.

"It is well within my ability to do so, you know this Legolas." This brought a smile to Legolas' lips.

"Ah, I do. So what is keeping you here now?"

The elfish captain noted the dismissal and bowed before darting off into the trees. Legolas watched her go, smile still ghosting across his face.

Tauriel bent low to the ground as she ran, searching for any sign that they had been followed. Except for some slight disturbances, she could find none meaning that in order to find the dwarf, she would have to return to the clearing.

Legolas, her thoughts flew back to him. She hoped he knew what he was doing; the red-haired elf knew how much it meant to him to impress his father.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Tauriel focused on her surroundings. She couldn't afford to miss anything in case it meant she missed their missing quarry. She had her orders and was inclined to follow them; it was the way she was, entirely focused on any task she had at hand and bent on seeing it through to the end. This one order would not be the first to see her fail those standards.

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