Title: Down the elfling hole
Disclaimer: Not mine, will never be mine… ever.
Warning: Fluff, some blood but not much, AU age wise.
Summary: Bilbo ends up in a hole when he follows the warriors from the Elvenking out the caves. However he is not the only one that has been caught in the hole.
Note: Should not be taken serious.
Characters: Bilbo, Legolas & Thranduil (Elvenking)
Universe: The Hobbit
A/N: First one of the series hope you all enjoy.
It had been two week since Bilbo had ended up in this almost imprisonment situation. He had only had the chance to leave the castle two times since, but had always returned afraid that his companions would suffer if he left them to their fate. However he had grown longing for his hole more and more, and after he had not been able to rob the Elvenking of more food in the last couple of days, he had grown tired and annoyed.
It was not dark in the king's caves, and not clamped like the goblins' caves, but he never dared to leave the walls afraid to be stomped and noticed by the elves that roamed the castle. With their long legs and swift moments there wasn't very much room, not even for a small hobbit such as himself.
He was trapped in the castle as much as the dwarves, and when they were brought food he had to slink around like the burglar the dwarves called him to gather what he needed. And it wasn't pleasant food that was offered to him either, as he only dared to take the scraps of what was left from the much larger folks of the cave.
The hobbit had grown tired of the caves, its tunnels and to drag his back against its walls as he walked. He wanted out, he wanted to feel the grass under his feats again and most of all he wanted to leave the place to return to his hobbit hole.
And so he waited for the door to open once more for him to leave, only just for the moment and not very far as he was afraid of the spider or being left behind by the elves that left the place. Without them he would not find his way back to the castle and would be left alone in the forest, also the dwarves would be left behind if he was to leave.
When the gates finally opened he waited for the elves to go through first before he slunk out after them, if Bilbo had not been so distraught he had maybe noticed the grim look on the faces of the elves, and maybe he would also have noticed the cave's change. Even though it was a hostile place for him, it was a place of cheers and laughter for the elves. The cave now laid silence, and the king sat silent at his throne no longer interested in the dwarves that sat in his dungeons or their reason to be in his woods.
He followed the elves for a short time; finally he had noticed the haste they made and was curious about what had upset the tall folks of the forest. However there was a hole, too small for an elf to fall victim for but the perfect for someone his size. The ground disappeared under his feet, and he tumbled down the hole.
The damage wasn't too troublesome because his sturdy head, but he suffered some bumps and scratches. He fell flat on the ground, suddenly trapped by the forest in more than one way. He had no way of climbing out, and he could not yell for help if he did not want to end up in the Elvenking's dungeon.
Miserable he sighted and fell to the ground again, but was quick to his feet once he felt soft flesh under him. He spun around afraid that he had angered another beast of the forest, but was greeted with no beast but another elf. A small elfling that was just as trapped as he was, but while he had only suffered minor wounds blood was to be found on the small creature, and it had already caked to the golden hair.
Bilbo sat down again, with the small light from the hole that had trapped him as his only companion. He was not going to be found, and would die in the hole together with the poor creature that had been trapped before him. Or he would maybe be eaten alive by one of the spiders drawn to the elf's body, and to a hobbit that had missed far too many suppers this didn't brighten him at all.
The elfling's chest fluttered and Bilbo sprung to his feet. The creature was alive! Why had he not thought to look for signs of life when he found it, angered by himself he went to the aid of the child. He had neither supplies nor knowledge of a wound like that, but he knew that one tended to bleed a lot from a wound to the head.
With careful hands he tried to look the wound over, but he had to use his last handkerchief from the homely home to really see the damage to the head. The elfling's chest fluttered again, and he realised that if he had any wish of helping it he had to get them both out.
But that was a hard thing to ask from the hobbit, as he still had no means to escape the hole. Maybe the elves that had left the caves would come to their aid if he yelled, but then they would question why they heard a voice from something that was not there, as he still had the ring on his finger.
There was also the fact that the elf had probably already left him behind a long time ago. Bilbo gave the elfling a dreadful look; he did not want it to die like this, without its kin knowing where they even would find the body. He tried to at least get rid of the blood that covered its face and hair, but was thorn from his work when the sound of trees behind him grew higher.
The sound of the forest was something that he had grown used to, nearer the Elvenking's cave the trees was kinder and the sound of wind rustling their leafs was to be heard in contrast to the silent and much darker trees that his companions had been under when they were caught.
This sound was not the wind, but the sound someone would expect the sound of a tree moving. He turned and to his surprise the trees roots had started to tear the walls apart behind him to give him footing for an escape from the hole. He could not speak to the trees, and he did not think it was for him they did it but for the elfling that probably could have spoken to the trees if he had been awake.
Never the less, Bilbo could now leave the hole and he grasped the small elfling for an unstable climb upwards. It was lighter than him, and only just a tad smaller than him. With them both out of the hole he looked around to see where he was. The sun had started to settle; making his shadow harder to see from someone that did not know it was there. However it also made his trip back uncertain as he had no direction in the forest and had no idea where he had come from.
The fall down had hurt him perhaps a little more than he had thought, and disoriented he looked around for the cave he was sure he was still near at least. The breath beside him seemed to grow thinner, he looked down at the small creature again and saw that his climbing had unsettled the wound again, new blood oozed from the wound.
He had not meant that to happen, and with a start tried to stop the blood once more. How could he had known that the climb would make this happen, he had only sought to help it and know he seemed to have doomed it instead.
The tree rustled unsettling around him once more and he gave the forest a frighten look, all the more trying to help the elfling. It did not seem to do anything for it, and he sat down beside it with a sob to look it over instead now in the small light from the setting sun. He had not thought much about it in any manner of a person, but now wanted to see it at least so he may remember it.
It was, at least he thought so, male with blonde hair that had red berries wrought into it. He was clad in red dressing, to match autumn's trees with its many colours together with brown boots the colour of the leaves that had already died. Of course it had the standard pointed ears, as any elf, but his features was softer as he was still but an elfling and ears smaller. Bilbo gave it only a small thought, but perhaps the eyes would be green as the forest in summer, and as the Elvenking in his castle.
He had not heard it as he sat in thought, but suddenly the sound of steps closed in. He turned and hoped that it would be the elves, and to his bliss it was! The three elves that had left the caves were running towards them, or not to them as they could only see the small elfling. And suddenly the haste they had made made sense to the small hobbit as the nearest elf threw his bow to the ground and kneeled beside the child.
"Tôr, tôr, Greenleaf!" it called, but still the child made no sound.
Gathering it carefully in its arm the elf lifted the child he had called Greenleaf and made back for what Bilbo only could suspect was the castle. He was not as careful to make himself not heard, wanting to see the fate of the child. It did not look like he had to worry as the elf had only concentration on the elfling, so much as it almost had forgotten its bow if not one of its companions had brought it.
Fast Bilbo slunk in, not wanting to be caught in the door once they were there. Suddenly he had to think about where to go and where to step as lights brighter than the settling sun lighted up the cave, and not to be found he left to stand at the walls again.
The Elvenking greeted them, and brought the child to his embrace. A less stern look than the one that had been used to the dwarves and any other Bilbo had seen made it to the Elvenking's face, and when it all together softened and tears found its way on his face Bilbo could only assume that he had been with the Elvenking's own child.
He stared for a moment longer before he left. He thought about it for a while as he made it to check up on the dwarves, but decided to keep it as his own memory of the place. That the Elvenking could smile was not going to be told to the dwarves. And Bilbo himself felt a smile that had not been there for a long while thug at his mouth as he thought that perhaps the Elvenking could not be so bad when he could cry like that for fear of his child.
Thranduil turned his gaze down to the elfling in his lap, with a soft hand he brushed the strands that had gotten into Legolas face, careful not to touch the hurting wound now bound by the healers.
"Yes Iôn nin?" he spoke just as softly as the hand that now threaded through his elfling's hair.
"There was a shadow of a little man with me."
The Elvenking stiffened, which brought a small whimper from his son, as he thought that perhaps he had said something wrong. But when his hair continued to get caressed he realised that it was not him his father was angry about.
"Was it one of the dwarves?"
Even though that was the question Thranduil knew that such could not be the case, none of the dwarves could have escaped his dungeons without his notice. But perhaps more lurked in the forest, which would be a surprise to him as he did not think that they could have stayed so long hidden from his guards.
"No, he had no body, only a voice," Legolas paused for a moment, "Is that weird ada?"
Perhaps he had been hit with greater force than Thranduil had first expected, but with the curious gaze from those green eyes he could not deny his elfling's fantasies. And maybe it had even been something there with him, as Mirkwood held many questions yet unsolved.
"Whatever it was, Iôn Nin, it brought you home safe from that hole."
Legolas giggled as he was brought closer to his ada's chest, and squealed in delight when Thranduil kissed his forehead. He hoped that he would get the chance to thank the small shadow someday, but now he was content in his ada's lap.
Iôn Nin: son
I don't know very much about Legola's siblings, but in this story he has only an older brother, which is far older than him with a couple of hundred years or so. And as one of my reviewers pointed out, this does not match up Legolas real age as he is actually at least a thousand years old at this point.
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