Fight Or Flight

Prolouge

"Ebony!" 

The shout of her name had the young girl running with all her might, giggling as she rounded the corners and shot between dwarves. 

"Hey!" An older dwarf shouted. 

"Sorry!" She called, not stopping. 

She bounded down the many halls within the mountain, her boots pounding against the smooth stone. 

"Ebony!" 

She laughed again, ducking under his arm as she rounded another corner. Only to run into an older, more regal dwarf. The king. 

Ebony slid to a stop, her friend bumping into her back as they both stared at the man before them. Her icy blue eyes quickly dropped to the ground. She was not of royal family, and she was a child. To look upon a dwarf king was unkind and unlady-like. Her friend stood strong. Why wouldn't he? He was the king's grandson. 

"Thorin. Ebony." 

She flinched, hating the way the king said her name. 

"Running in the halls is not what a royal should be doing." The king told Thorin. 

"But grandfather-" 

"Nor should they be conversing or... playing, with a member of a lower race." 

Ouch. Though she was an elf, Ebony had never been told she was part of a lower race. In fact, her own king had tried to beat it into her head that she was part of a higher race. One above all others. She never believed it. 

"She is not!" Thorin defended. 

"Hush. Thranduil has come for her." 

Ebony's already light complextion turned white as snow. Thranduil. The elf-king of the woodland realm. He was as cruel as he was elegant. And he showed no mercy to anyone. The king didn't seem to notice or care. 

"Come." 

Ebony followed silently. Her footsteps were quiet, as she wished to disapear. But the guards would not let that happen. Thorin was forced to watch her follow the king while his mother held his hand, keeping him from reaching out to her. 

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"King Thror." Thranduil said. "I see you have found our runaway elfling." 

"Aye." The dwarf king waved his hand. "If I see her here again, she will not be treated as kindly." 

"Of course. I expect no less." 

"Excuse me?" He asked, lifting a bushy brow. 

Thranduil changed his words. "I will make sure she does not leave the woodland again." 

His guard grabbed her arm, and Ebony felt her instincs kick in. 

"No!" She cried, wrenching her arm free. 

Thranduil lost his composure. It was easily lost when his nerves were already frayed. His hand wrapped around her silky black hair and yanked her towards him. She screamed, but he struck her. Silence fell upon the throne room. Nobody moved, nobody even breathed. Ebony was frozen in place with her hand on her reddening cheek. Her hair slipped out of the elf-king's hand as he realized what he had done. He reached out for her again but a thick, strong hand pulled her away. Thror was out of his seat. His eyes were blazing. 

"You dare strike a child? In my kingdom?!" 

"She is the daughter of a witch, I will treat her as such." Thranduil became cold. "Give her to me, I will return her to where she belongs." 

"She is where she belongs." He said strongly. "The girl stays here." 

"You dare take an elf from her kingdom?" 

"She has left it more than enough. She will stay here." Thror was not backing down. 

Thranduil could do nothing without risking a fight. One that he would loose. His blue eyes locked on Ebony and a cruel smile flitted across his features. 

"Very well. Keep the girl. She has no place amoung the elves." 

He nodded his head in a mocking bow towards Thror and turned, leaving the dwarves standing in shock and Ebony nearly collapsing out of releif. Thror looked at her and she looked at the floor once more. 

"Take her to the women." He told his son. "Tell them she will remain here." 

"Permission to speak?" Ebony whispered. 

Thror looked at her. "Yes?" 

"You do not have to allow me to stay." She said, not looking at him. "I know I am a burden." 

Silence again. "Leave us." 

Soon enough, only Ebony and Thror remained in the throne room. He waved her towards him and she approached slowly. Thror sighed. 

"I have never known an elf such as you." He stated. "You are to live here. My grandson has found a friend in you, and not for his royal status either. You may continue to stay and roam my halls. But I have rules." 

"And I will follow them." 

"Very well. Go on." 

Ebony bowed as best she knew how, and Thror chuckled as she ran off. 

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