You met them first in Mirkwood. Radagast the Brown had sent on an errand to King Thranduil. Radagast had kindly taken care of you since your early childhood, when you were orphaned by an orc attack on your village. The reclusive wizard did have a knack for taking in small things in distress. While absentminded, he had taken great care of you. He taught you the ways of the woodland creatures, and occasionally let you help in some of his more important endeavors. While you had no gift for magic, you loved the animals, and Radagast thought that was the most important part. Of course, he was a wizard, and only a brown wizard at that, so you had to acknowledge his bias. Perhaps he even had a bit of short-sightedness in that regard, but not for his lack of heart.

The reason for your errand was that Radagast hoped the elven king would see reason and help him fight back the darkness that creeped into the woods throughout Middle Earth. Radagast feared for the forest and its creatures; his dearest animal companions were falling ill with frightening regularity, some never to recover. With the elven race's notorious care for their forest, you had entered King Thanduil's throne room certain that you would leave with his promise of assistance. Instead, you left dejected, wondering if all of Middle Earth was so callous as these Mirkwood elves.

Thranduil's stinging rejection ringing in your ears, you had just stepped out onto a terrace to see the company of thirteen furious dwarves hustled across the bridge and into the elven stronghold. Perplexed, you wandered back toward Thranduil's throne room. The guards eyed you with distaste as you lingered near the open door, but they did not order you to leave. They had no power over you, and you knew that as well as they did. You were no elf, and their authority extended only as far as their king allowed.

A black-haired dwarf snarled something unintelligible at Thranduil, who sprawled on his throne. You could almost see the sparks of tension fly between the two. Radagast had told you once of the enmity between dwarves and elves, but you had not thought it would be so violent, so immediate. And for them to cling to such anger for so long? You couldn't help but snort, thinking both races foolish for wasting such energy on frivolous matters. The elven guards sneered at the noise, and you rolled your eyes.

But it was only one dwarf that faced Thranduil. Where were the others? Likely in the dirtiest cells Mirkwood had to offer, if the elven king's manner was any indication. You rolled your eyes again at the folly of both races and turned on your heel to leave. Something brushed your robes as you turned, and you stepped to the side, startled, but could see nothing there. Shaking your head at yourself, you left the king's throne room behind. You needed to get back home to Greenwood; this strange place was making you paranoid.

As you prepared your sled and gathered the Rhosgobel rabbits, something tugged on your robes. Assuming it was Bren, one of the Rhosgobels that had an insatiable appetite, you ignored it. The tug came again, and you looked down to find not a rabbit, but a small man with huge, hairy feet at your side.

"Uh, pardon me," the little man said as you yelped. The rabbits froze at the sound, their bodies quivering around you. He cleared his throat and said, scratching self-consciously at his mass of shaggy hair. "I don't wish to be a bother, but, um, I was wondering if you'd assist me?"

"I beg your pardon?" You took a step back to give yourself distance from the stranger. He did not look particularly dangerous, but one could never be too careful.

"I need your help." He sighed. "That elf king has my friends locked up, and I'm rather afraid you might be my only chance at finding an ally."

"Why? Because I am no elf?" You asked, still wary.

"In part. You also have a manner that reminds me of someone I know and trust," the little man said. He held out a square hand to you. "My name is Bilbo," he said.

You took his hand and shook it once. "Y/N," you introduced yourself, sighing. It looked as if you would not be getting home so soon after all. "What sort of help do you need?"

"There are thirteen dwarves in the dungeons here," he said. "They have done nothing to warrant their detainment, beyond simply being dwarves on elvish territory. They are my friends, and I must free them."

You thought it odd that you had not noticed his entry when you saw the dwarves brought in. "I would suggest you speak to King Thranduil," You said, "but I have spoken with him today already, and I do not think he would be agreeable to your request."

Bilbo snorted. "That is an understatement."

You considered him. "Do you have a plan?"

"Almost," he responded, grinning self-consciously. "I'll need some help distracting a few guards. I hear the elves have an extensive wine cellar here. If you can persuade the guards there to relax a little, I can free my friends and escape via the river."

"Not bad," you mused, recalling how the elves used the river to trade with villages of men in the area, "except I have no idea how to distract them."

Bilbo's eyes widened. "Surely you can use your womanly wiles?"

You huffed a dubious laugh and herded the investigative Rhosgobels away from the halfling. The rabbits were almost as large as the little man, and you didn't want either of them frightened or hurt. "I suppose I could try," you offered.

"Excellent." The hobbit rubbed his hands together with glee.

A/N: Thank you for reading! As this is my first attempt at fanfiction, I'd appreciate feedback! If you liked this, please give this first chapter a vote! I plan to update this story weekly.
-RA