The Darkling(Legolas/The Hobbit) Book 1 ✔️

IX

To OliviaGreenleaf - for waiting patiently

Hello again dear readers and voters and amazing commenters. Here is a short (sorry about that) update for you all. I am going to dedicate each chapter from here on (have also gone back through the former ones and dedicated all of them to previous commenters), to the comment/commenter that I find most exciting, amusing, dear, or most constructive. 

            "Arya!"

            "Arya, you have to wake up!"

            "Come on dragon-girl, open your eyes."

            "Leave her be, we have better things to worry about."

            "Thorin..."

            "I said leave her!"

Forcing her eyes open, Arya softly turned her head to the side to see all the dwarves shuffle away from her. Opening her mouth to speak out to them, she was surprised to find a small hand shooting forwards and covering her mouth. Her instincts took over, her eyes flashing dangerously as she pushed a startled Bilbo out of the way. About to heave herself onto her feet, Arya was overwhelmed by the pain pulsing through her body and barely managed to lift her upper body off of the ground.

            "Shhh... Arya, you have to stay quiet!" Bilbo hurriedly whispered to her, his eyes flittering around franticly. She gave the hobbit the most questioning look she could manage, and kept her mouth shut.

            "I am getting you out of here. Thorin... he's gone mad!"

Her eyebrows furrowed, and she was about to speak up again, certain that Thorin could not be as mad as the hobbit seemed to think. Bilbo quickly slapped his hand over her mouth again, causing her to give him a fiery glare.

            "I don't know who of you to fear most," Bilbo muttered – mostly to himself. "You, Thorin or the Elf."

Her eyes widened at that, and once again she struggled to get up from the ground. Bilbo, realizing she was making too much of a ruckus, lifted his hand and put a finger to his mouth, shushing her quietly.

            "Speak – but quietly."

            "The elves – they are here?" Her voice sounded like it belonged to a crow, and was not as melodious as it used to be. Bilbo nodded his head, but could see immediately that she was not pleased with his answer.

            "Who?"

            "King Thranduíl, and a great host of elven warriors. They have come to slaughter us all. His son however, has – I hope – convinced Thranduíl into smuggling you out of here and into their camp, so that you can be healed."

            "Legolas..." Arya murmured, and Bilbo thought he could almost see a wistful look on her face as she looked at the stonewall separating her from the view of the elven camp. The look in her eyes was gone a second later. "I'm not going."

            "Arya-" Bilbo started, exasperation clear in his voice but he was cut off, as a voice spoke behind him.

            "You are going. You are no use to us here."

Whipping around, Bilbo was not sure to be relieved or terrified as he saw Dwalin tower over him. "You are going even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming over the wall."

            "Thorin would never let you do that," she hissed back.

            "Thorin will not know until it is done." Dwalin's face looked as if it was carved out of stone.