There was a flash of light. Blinding in it's brightness, it threw the dank stone walls into sharp relief and deposited a figure into the centre of the cave. When it vanished, the shadows swooped back to their rightful places, cloaking the girl who had appeared in darkness. She sprung to her feet, ebony-black hair swinging in it's braid as her head whipped back and forth, surveying the room. Emerald green eyes, similar to fractured glass in their sharpness, searched for threats. Finding none the girl relaxed fractionally, and loosened the rein on her curiosity.

She was in a cave, and the most noticeable thing was the horrible smell. A delicate button nose wrinkled, trying to block out the stench that permeated the cave. It smelled worse than the dungbombs that kept getting let off near her room.

The girl pulled out a wooden stick from her boot. It was just longer than her forearm, Mallorn wood etched with patterns of power and protection. As it was swept through the air, it let out a wave of freesia-scented air, and the girl released the breath she'd been holding.

She searched the cave walls for an exit, a door, a passage. She could not pop from the inside to the outside of the cave without knowing first the appearance of the outside, so could not escape using that method. Fingers trailed along the walls and eyes looked for an exit hiding beneath the floor, yet nothing was found.

There were quite a few weapons around the room, interspersed in piles of gold and jewellery. Stuffing some of the gold coins and finer-looking jewellery in a pouch she had fastened round her neck, she meandered over to the largest supply of weapons. I'm only taking stuff because I need it, she defended weakly, but she knew the real reason was quite different.

The girl reached for a sheath at random, pulling away cobwebs and inspecting the sword. It was a long and narrow blade, and the balance was astonishingly good. The hilt fit perfectly in her hands, and under her fingers the sword sang of the warriors who wielded it, and the battles it had fought in. The sheath was leather, but in the dim light the designs were unclear. She strapped it to her waist, and the set of two dozen throwing knives next to it were quickly attached to her arms and legs, hidden under her clothing and the charm she had put upon everything she picked up.

The girl re-appropriated some more weapons, particularly happy with the bow she had found. The string had deteriorated, however the bow itself was fine, as well as the sheath of arrows with it. She yanked a strand of hair from her braid, numb to the pain, and waved her stick over it. The hair grew in length and sturdiness, until it was a bowstring, which was quickly strung. The quiver also had the wand waved over it, though the effects were not immediately visible.

She had also pilfered quite a bit of jewellery, shoving most into her pouch to sell later. A pendant was looped around her neck, though, simply because she admired the green jewel in the centre of the tree, and she might as well keep something frivolous for herself

The girl also had found a few outfits, and looking at her own clothes, quickly changed. Charms were cast to clean and mend the clothes, and shrink them to fit her as well. Overall, she had re-purposed a blouse that was cream under the grime, trousers and boots and a chest guard made of leather, and a money belt she could use to fool attackers.

After an hour (though she could not be sure, she had no way to tell the time), the small amount of light outside seemed to brighten, and the girl suspected the sun was rising. She stood under one of the small rays of light streaming into the cave, and sighed in bliss as it touched her face. Drinking it in, she rotated on the spot, content. She soon went to continue her examination.

Suddenly, a large crack wrent the air, and the girl, who had been examining the quality of a deep purple cloak, jumped. Unsheathing her new sword and lifting her stick, she stood prepared to fight.

A few minutes passed, and nothing happened. Lowering her weapons, the girl continued her perusal of the hoard, pulling the soft cloak onto her shoulders. She had just decided to try and open one of the barrels when she heard voices from beyond the cave.

Straining her ears, the girl was able to make out a few snatches of conversation. Enough to realise the people outside were searching for a key. Pulling out her stick and sword, she took a moment to look around the cave, to see if there was any danger she had somehow missed. There was none she could find, however, so the girl took a deep breath, before calling out.

"Hello? Is anyone out there?" Her voice came out breathy and near silent, yet the voices outside, which had been getting louder, became quiet. She stood, berating herself for revealing her presence (they could be Death Eaters for all you know!), when there was a great creaking and groaning, and a section of the wall previously ordinary swung inward like a door.

The girl retreated to the shadows behind the wall as a tall man walked in. He was made taller by the pointed hat on his head, and the heights of the others who accompanied him; the tallest was nearly two head shorter than the other, for goodness sake. The tall man and one of the shorter ones were arguing.

"—I say I heard something in here—"

"And I say we search the Troll horde for supplies." Troll horde? "If there is another troll in here we can kill it. Now, get looking for food." With that, the group spread out.

There were cries of success as a couple of the men pried open the lids of the barrels (that she had been meaning to open) to reveal dried meats and ale. They started rolling them out, lightly talking about how they'd be able to eat a filling meal. Another few had started filling a chest with gold, saying "It would be a shame to leave it lying about" and digging a hole to bury it in.

The short man had picked up some swords she had passed by, content with her blade, while the one with the pointed hat was also looking about the cave.

"It smells quite pleasant for a Troll horde," he said, suspicion lightly colouring his tone. The other didn't listen.

"These swords were made by no troll," he said to the tall one.

"Nor were they made by any smith of Man," he replied, picking up a second sword and drawing it from it sheath to see the blade. "They were made in Gondolin by the High Elves of First Age." The other made to put his sword down in disgust, while the girl's mind was turning over this information.

I suppose my blade is of the same make, she thought, but what does he mean, High Elves? And the First Age, what's that about? She refocused on the pair when the taller began speaking again.

"You could not wish for a finer blade," he said, seemingly annoyed with the other man, who reluctantly picked the sword back up. They began to make their way out of the cave, when the girl sneezed.

Shit, was the only thing she could think, before she was bodily lifted by the short man, and thrown in the dirt outside the cave. Blinking to adjust her eyes to the light, she saw she was surrounded by a larger group of men then that that had entered the cave. All had beards and facial hair done in elaborate braids and styles, except one who looked very young, and another that was a head shorter than any of the others and had a riot of curls. Most of them had swords or battle axes pointed at her.

"Why were you in that cave?" asked the tall one, leaning on his staff. The others were also looking at her interestedly. She decided to stick to the truth, and took a deep breath of fresh air before replying.

"I don't know; one minute I was just heading to to wash up, next I'm lying on the floor of a cave," most of them seemed mollified by her answer, though the one who had been disgusted by the sword in the cave still looked suspicious. She also couldn't forget her manners; years of them being nearly beaten into her made that nigh impossible, "Thank you by the way, for getting me out of there."

The man with the hat (and now she could see his outfit, that was way too much grey for one person) had moved to give the really short man a really short sword (fitting, she supposed), and was talking with him. The others had started to discuss what to do with her.

"Something's coming," yelled the man who'd been disgusted by the sword (and she really needed a name for him), and most of the men ran into the bushes. The tall and really short man also ran off, leaving the girl behind. Huffing, she followed, because she was not letting her only hope at getting anywhere leave her behind.

Catching up with them, she starred in no small amount of shock as a man rode up on a sled pulled by rabbits. "Thieves! Fire! Murder!" he yelled as he slowed to a stop, eyes darting and wild.

"Ah, Radagast the Brown," said the man with the pointed hat (ok, as soon as possible she was getting everyone's names, if only to stop referring to them by stupidly long characteristics). "What ever are you doing here?" he continued, and as the two slowly walked a bit of a ways away, the short men split up to talk amongst themselves. The girl crouched to the ground next to the rather large and rather frightened rabbits.

"Ah, shh, shh," she tried to calm them, using a soothing tone of voice and stroking the lead one softly. "Shh, you're ok, you're ok. Why don't you tell me your names?" The girl just kept repeating platitudes, and asking small questions, and slowly, slowly, they calmed. Soon, she had a lapful of rabbits, and was giggling, noticing but deciding to dismiss the eyes she could feel on her (she could also hear the scratching of a quill). "Bella sit down," she said, trying to get as many on her lap as she could at one time.

"I've never seen them act like that near a human before," Radagast (one name down, 15 more to go) said. Apparently the two had returned. The girl sprung from her seat like a spark from a fire — that is to say, haphazardly and ending up on the ground.

"Sorry," she said to the dirt, though she wasn't really. She would treasure this opportunity for as long as she could: it was one of the few moments she'd had where she could be happy without fear of repercussions. Wait, what did he mean, human? Like she was one. She snorted: as if.

"Oh no my dear, it's not a bad thing," he reassured her, "In fact, it's wonderful! To find a human who is so in tune with nature—" Radagast was cut short by the sound of a howl in the distance. It was a chilling sound, renting the air and ripping apart the tentative calm that the group had been in before. It reminded her of a werewolf's howl, the few times she had heard it.

"W–was that a wolf?" questioned the shortest man, quaking in terror, "Are there — are there wolves out there?"

"Wolves," one of the dwarves spoke up (she really was kicking herself for not realising it sooner — humans weren't that short unless they were children. Thank goodness she hadn't called any of them men out loud, because that would nearly be worse than cutting off one of their beards. She still didn't know what the shortest one was, though). He also had on a stupid looking hat. "No, that's no wolf."

Suddenly, a wolf jumped from a nearby crag onto a dwarf, but it couldn't be a wolf, because no wolf was that large, nor had jaws pulled in such a permanent snarl. Before it could do anything, an arrow was sent from another dwarf, and a third killed it as it tried to stand.

"Warg-Scouts!" hello again, Mr. I-Don't-Like-Elvish-Blades, "An Orc Pack must not be far behind." The girl didn't know what Orcs were, but the very word sent chills down her spine and her entire body seemed to scream "WRONG!"

The man in grey (and he wasn't a man. Neither he nor Radagast were human now she'd had time to study them) started to talk to the lead dwarf (she'd have to be blind and deaf to not realise), but Radagast went over to the girl.

"I'd like to talk to you," he said, and when she looked at him in disbelief (they were about to be attacked by Wargs), he quickly added, "Once you get to Rivendell. We can talk then." She slowly nodded, and that seemed to be the confirmation he needed. The not-a-man spoke to the rest of the group.

"I'll draw them off," Radagast said boldly, and the girl felt her heart clench for him, even though they had had spoken only twice, and she had only said a single word the entire time.

"These are Gundabad Wargs, they will outrun you," said the other not-a-man, and that was worry in his tone, she was sure. Radagast only smirked.

"These are Rhosgobel Rabbits; I'd like to see them try."

Hello everyone! This is my first multi-chapter story; I've been writing it for a while, but I decided to start the new year by publishing it (yes, it took me a day to get the courage to post this). I'm also posting it on Ao3 and Wattpad, so don't worry if you see it there. I don't really have an updating schedule, and once school starts back up they'll come slower. Also, if you're here for any sort of romance; sorry to disappoint, but I can't write that. So any romance you see will be side only, and unimportant to the plot.