Hey everyone! I'm a little annoyed that this chapter is kinda short, and I'm really sorry about that. Perhaps the next one will be longer. But on a happier note, I have updated rather quickly and hopefully I will continue this streak. I really hope you like the little flashback/memory I did with Legolas and Amariel in here, and please comment if you did and tell me what you thought about it. Well I won't prevent you from reading any longer. Have fun and please review!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit or any of the characters, only Amariel and insignificant others.

Chapter Seventeen: Gundabad and the Arkenstone

APOV

The mountains were little more than a layer of poor soil over rock. Scrubby grass could be found in patches as they walked, though as they neared closer to the darkness, even the wild patches began to fade. On the hill tops the cold wind was fierce and bitter, and smacked Amariel's golden curls into her face, leaving blotted red marks. The paths were pale brown and had long since overgrown, branching out in different directions at certain points making it harder to determine their way. But finally, on their third afternoon of travelling, they reached a dry rocky peak situated on the doorstep of the colossal steel gates that lead to Gundabad. Legolas crouched down on the ground, his penetrating forget-me-not eyes searching the surroundings of the fortress. Amariel knelt down next to him on the stoney dirt and Tauriel followed suite.

"Gundabad," the auburn-haired elf breathed. "What lies beyond?"

"An old enemy — the ancient kingdom of Angmar. This fortress was once its stronghold. It is where they kept their great armories, forged their weapons of war." A shadow of light flickered in one of the high windows of the fortress, but it was gone as quickly as it had came.

"A light! I saw movement," said Tauriel, her eyes glued to the dark window.

Legolas nodded. "We wait for the cover of night. It is a fell place, Tauriel. In another age our people waged war on those lands." The Prince then paused, a pained look on his pale face. Amariel frowned, a feeling of sorrow weighing down her heart. She hated seeing him like this, even after all he had done. The two shared a connection, an unbreakable bond, and so when he was grieved, she couldn't help but feel the same. But, unlike for Legolas, the feeling was not foreign to her, it was familiar and held years of unforgettable memories. "My mother died there," he continued solemnly. "My father does not speak of it. There is no grave, no memory, nothing."

Tauriel's face softened and a look of regret and despair lingered on her features. She reached out a hand and placed it on Legolas' shoulder in a comforting manner. He stiffened at the action and, surprisingly, gave a weary glance in Amariel's direction. She instantly understood what he was thinking, for the memory had also come to her mind.

The day was gusting with diagonal sheets of rain, freezing and paling Amariel's skin. The path through the forest was muddy water in motion, filling deep puddles, and soaking through her leather boots. The cold liquid pelted her face, sliding down and sticking to her long black lashes, blurring her vision. But despite the chill and torrential sounds coming from skyward, Amariel was smiling and laughing as the blonde male elf lead her by the hand through the roughly swaying trees.

"Legolas," she chuckled, her voice getting lost in the wind and rain. "How much further?"

He didn't answer, only run faster into the woods, dragging Amariel behind him. They continued like this for a while until both of them were completely and utterly drenched in water. Finally, Legolas halted at the entrance of a large, dark, hollow cave, and he beckoned her in after him. Amariel's white cold hands reached up to squeeze the water from her hair, and she bit her wet lip as she glanced around.

The cave was warmer than expected, and it was only with her sharp elf eyes that she could see what was on front of her. Legolas took a seat on the soil ground, leaning up against the cavern's wall, and Amariel did the same.

"Why did you take me here, Legolas," she asked curiously, staring up at him, for she was a good head shorter than he was.

"I thought you might enjoy a bit of adventure, instead of being all cooped up in the palace," he answered with a slight smile.

Amariel beamed and leaned her head onto his shoulder, trying to get some warmth. "Have you been here before?"

"Yes, well, it was a long time ago," he answered briefly, looking a little uncomfortable. She gazed up at him, her brow creased, and wondered what was bothering him.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned. "Darling, what is the matter?"

He tried to give her a reassuring smile but it ended up as more like a grimace. "Nothing, it's nothing. I am fine."

"No your not," she persisted, frowning. "You know you can tell me anything."

Legolas sighed heavily. "I know, Amariel. And I'm grateful for that, but... but this isn't really a subject I want to discuss."

The blonde She-elf nodded but still looked worried. "No, that's alright, I understand."

For a moment, their eyes met, startling blue against vibrant violet. Amariel held her breath, not daring to break the silence, and, for some strange reason, she felt rather intimidated. All they could hear was the pattering of the rain outside. Then Legolas broke away, took a deep breath, and began to speak.

"I was young when it happened. Only an elfling. There were wars raging; Mirkwood and Gundabad especially were deep in violent battles. Our kingdom was becoming dire as our foe seemed to be gaining the upper hand. It was in this time when my mother had a sudden willingness to go to war. She was a great warrior and would perhaps help turn the tables of the battle, but my father would simply not allow her to go." Amariel was quiet, devouring and listening closely to her love's every word. "Somehow, though, she escaped the castle and travelled to the gates of Gundabad where the war was held. My father suspected that someone had helped her out of the kingdom, for she was heavily guarded and it would've been impossible for her to escape without aid. She fought valiantly, and killed many of the enemy soldiers. The tables had turned and we were beginning to reach victory when something happened that none of them expected. Their leader, my mother, was killed. We do not know who did the deed, all I know was that afterwards my father did not speak of the incident. There was no grave, no memory, no nothing. She was just... gone. This place—" he gestured to the cave, "— was where I escaped to when the grief became to much to bear. This was where I was alone with my thoughts and I could remember my mother in peace. In the end, this was the place that helped me to overcome the sorrow of her death, and it holds many memories for me."

When Legolas had finished his tale, Amariel did not say anything for a moment, but then she nodded her head and whispered something very softly. "Thank you."

A look of confusion crossed his face. "Thank you? Why are you thanking me? There is nothing to be grateful about."

"But there is," she replied slowly. "You told me about your mother even though it was hard for you. You trusted me enough to let me in, and for that, I am thankful."

Legolas looked shocked for a second but then a weak smile graced his lips. "Of course I trust you, Amariel. You are everything to me. And to be honest, you remind me of her. She was fierce and loyal and caring and beautiful just like you." Amariel did not need to ask who 'her' was, and his compliment made butterflies flutter around in her stomach.

"I know she would be proud of you, Legolas. I know that she must have loved you very much," she said gently. "Just as I do."

Amariel's mind returned to the present with a jolt and she noticed the both of her elvish companions were staring at her with strange looks.

"Are you alright, Amariel?" asked Tauriel. "Your face just went completely blank. It was like you were in a trance."

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered, glancing sideways at Legolas. "I was just... remembering something."

If her answer perplexed Tauriel in any way, she didn't show it, and quickly got back to the task at hand. "I think we should go higher. We can get a better look at the fortress and will be able to spot any movement more easily."

Amariel's throat went dry and her stomach dropped ten feet. "Er... higher?" she gulped, leering down at the already far away ground. She hadn't noticed the height they were at much, but now that Tauriel mentioned it, she suddenly felt a woozy feeling in the pit of her belly and became somewhat light-headed.

"I think we'll be able to see them fine from here," said Legolas, shooting her a wary glance. For the first time in a while, she felt a wave of extreme gratitude towards him. He also saved her from having to shamefully admit that she, an elf, was deadly scared of heights.

"Are you sure?" said Tauriel. "I don't see the harm in just going up a little higher."

"I'm sure," replied Legolas firmly. Amariel sighed in relief as Tauriel slowly inclined her head and continued to watch the monstrous tower.

The early dusk sunlight was quickly obliterated by the rapidly falling night. The once salmon and purple sky transformed into a vast expanse of coal-black that engulfed the fortress and mountainside. A canopy of tiny white stars materialized amongst the curtain of blackness. But they were dull, merely flickering into existence every now and then, it was as if the darkness of Gundabad had reached even the most remote places.

"If we are going in — we should move now," said Tauriel, making the other two nod their heads in agreement. They were about to get to their feet when, quite suddenly, a colony of massive bats flew out of nowhere, screeching piercing noises and soaring over their heads.

"What are they doing?" Amariel asked, gaping at the huge bats.

"Dúilith secherig, (They are swarming)," answered Tauriel.

"These bats are bred for one purpose," informed Legolas, observing the animals.

"For what?"

"For war."

Amariel watched as the bats swarmed overhead, and a figure rode out of the fortress on a Warg. With a jolt she realized he was Bolg, the orc that they had fought in Laketown. He was dressed for battles wearing steel and metal armour, and he raised his mace and shouted out a command. The sound of eerie trumpets echoed in her ears and the tall gates at the bottom of the tower opened with a loud creak. Amariel gasped and her eyes widened as rank upon ranks of orcs charged out of the gates, each with a giant spear at least three times their height.

Bolg called out another order and the massive army began marching away, with the bats following and wheeling overhead.

"Din methithar i phain (We must warn the others.)" Tauriel exclaimed, jumping agilely to her feet, and Amariel hurriedly followed suite, her brain pulsing with worry. This army would be heading for the mountain, there was no doubt about that, and they would slaughter any living being that stood in their way. Including her dear little Bilbo.

"Penim lû. Tolo! (We may be too late — hurry!)" Legolas said, leading the trio of elves off the rocky outcrop and over to the two horses that were waiting for them not too far away. Amariel heard Bolg yell out another command and the ranks of orcs parted to let smaller, lighter, and faster ors sprint ahead of their companions, snarling. As quick as she could, she swung herself onto a horse, pleading with all her heart that her friends would be okay.

BPOV

Bilbo Baggins clutched a long rope in his sweaty hands, twirling the threads around in his finger. He bit his lip, body shaking slightly, nervous about the task he knew he had to do. The white moon was shining brightly in the inky sky, casting its rays of silvery light upon the shadowed ground. A gentle breeze ruffled his curly chestnut brown hair and caused prickles of goosebumps to pop up upon his arms. Bilbo took a big breath and threw the rope over the edge of the blocked up entrance of Erebor, watching as it slipped all the way down. Trying to calm his trembling nerves, he clambered slowly down the stone wall, climbing across the deep, broad moat using some of the rubble, and began to run as fast as his little legs could carry him towards Dale.

The journey was exhausting as it was a fair distance between the two cities, and Bilbo had to push himself with all his might to reach Dale without stopping more than three times to catch his breath. His hairy feet pounded against the rocks and dirt, his round face beetroot red and prespirating madly. Eventually and completely out if breath, Bilbo arrived at the camp where the Lakesmen and woman slept, and he crept through the lines of blankets and snoring people until he reached a huge, fancy tent where he supposed that intimidating, snobby Elf King stayed. As he neared the tent, a group of voices deep in conversation echoed towards him.

"You, Bowman! Do you agree with this?" challenged a very familiar gruff voice. "Is gold so important to you? Would you buy it with the blood of dwarves?!" Excited at hearing Gandalf's voice, Bilbo sped up, carefully sneaking past some Laketown guards.

"It will not come to that. This is a fight they cannot win," replied another voice with certainty. He recognized it as coming from that man who helped them find weapons, Bard.

He quietly slipped into the tent and addressed the two speakers solemnly. "That won't stop them. You think the dwarves will surrender — they won't. They will fight to the death to defend their own."

Gandalf turned to see who had spoken and a merry smile broke across his face as he saw Bilbo.

"Bilbo Baggins," he welcomed. The hobbit, for a moment, smiled happily back, overjoyed at seeing his protector and friend again, before a sudden thought hit his mind.

"Gandalf, where is Amariel? Do you know?"

The wizard frowned, making his wrinkles look even more prominent. "She is not with you?"

Bilbo shook his head. "I haven't seen her since Mirkwood."

A look of realization and almost amusement flashed in Gandalf's eyes, making Bilbo very confused. "Ah," he said. "No, no I haven't seen her of late." A wave of worry for his best friend washed over him and he pleaded that she was alright, but before he could ask any more after her, Gandalf's next words caught his attention. "Now, what brings you here, Mr Baggins?"

After rapidly explaining to Gandalf that he needed an audience with King Thranduil, the old wizard nodded and told him to wait there while he went to fetch him. Bilbo and Bard stood in an awkward silence while Gandalf was gone, until the Bowman finally spoke up.

"Amariel," he started, catching Bilbo's interest at once. "She's the pretty, blonde elf, isn't she?"

"Yes," Bilbo confirmed, slightly suspicious on how he knew her. "How do you know her?"

"I met her in Laketown after the Dragon's fall with two other elves, Prince Legolas and another red haired She-elf. Last I heard they were heading to Gundabad." Perplexion and dread filled him but he didn't have time to say much more about it because a second later Gandalf returned with the King on his tail.

"If I'm not mistaken, this is the halfling who stole the keys to my dungeons from under the nose of my guards," drawled Thranduil, peering down at him with those scarily intimidating eyes. Bilbo shuffled on his feet, feeling extremely uncomfortable. He had hoped that the King would not remember that particular incident.

"Yes. Sorry about that," Bilbo apologized sheepishly. No one spoke for a while, then Bilbo stepped forward and placed the wrapped package that he had carried in his pocket all the way here on the table. "I came... to give you this." He began to unwrap it revealing the Arkenstone, and he felt his stomach clench a bit in anxiety, though he tried not to show it.

"The heart of the mountain!" Thranduil exclaimed as he saw the stone. "The King's Jewel!" Both Gandalf and Bard approached it with awe as well.

"And worth a king's ransom," said Bard. "How is this yours to give?"

"I took it as my fifteenth share of the treasure," answered Bilbo, puffing out his chest with as much courage as he could muster, making the old wizard smile slightly.

"Why would you do this? You owe us no loyalty," said Bard, gazing down at the little hobbit. But he had no time to answer because Thranduil suddenly interrupted, his dark eyebrows creased in thought.

"Fifteenth?" his deep voice repeated. "How is it that you have a fifteenth share when there, as far as I know, are only fourteen members of your company?"

"Well, there's Amariel too, she's an elf," he answered. A glint of recognition darkened the King's eyes and Gandalf shot a frown at the hobbit. Bilbo felt utterly confused. Had he said something wrong?

"So," said Thranduil in a dangerously quiet voice. "You mean to say that that girl—" he spat out her name, "—was in my kingdom during you and the dwarves' stay?"

"Um, yes?" replied Bilbo, failing to see how this was important. "But she wasn't with me or in the cells. I think she was with your son."

Anger could be visible on the King's face now and it turned a shade of light purple. Bilbo noticed that his fists were clenched.

"And where," he said through gritted teeth, "is she now?"

"Er, I'm not entirely sure. Bard said she was in Gundabad with the Prince," said Bilbo, biting his lip, and Gandalf let out an exasperated sigh. What was going on? he thought, absolutely clueless.

"Is she now?" said Thranduil, his voice on edge and his face very purple now.

Bard, clearly seeing this and hoping to step in before someone got hurt, repeated his previous question. "So, why are you doing this?"

Bilbo sighed in relief with the change of subject. "I'm not doing it for you. I know that dwarves can be obstinate and pigheaded and difficult, suspicious and secretive… with the worst manners you can possibly imagine, but they also brave and kind... and loyal to a fault. I've grown very fond of them, and I would save them if I can. Thorin values this stone above all else. In exchange for its return, I believe he will give you what you are owed. There will be no need for war!" After he had finished his little speech he saw the three men share meaningful glances, but he wasn't really sure what they meant.

Not too long later, Bilbo found himself walking down a cobbled path beside Gandalf, his thoughts straying to Amariel and Thorin and the dwarves.

"Rest up tonight. You must leave on tomorrow," said Gandalf, guiding the hobbit through the sleeping villagers.

"What?" he exclaimed, utterly shocked. What did Gandalf mean? Surely he didn't want him to actually go? They needed him, the dwarves needed him, Amariel needed him. No, it couldn't be.

"Get as far away from here as possible."

"I'm — I'm not leaving. You picked me as the fifteenth man. I'm not about to leave the company now," he countered, crossing his arms over his chest.

"There is no company — not any more. And I don't like to think what Thorin will do when he finds out what you've done," said Gandalf, looking pointedly at his companion.

"I'm not afraid of Thorin," said Bilbo, trying to sound courageous.

"But you should be!" retorted Gandalf. "Don't underestimate the evil of gold. Gold over which a serpent has long brooded. Dragon-sickness seeps into the hearts of all who come near this mountain." The old wizard gave Bilbo an appraising look. "Almost all."

They continued to walk for a bit until a monobrowed, greasy-looking man came shuffling by and Gandalf called out to him. "You there! Find this hobbit a bed, and fill his belly with hot food. He's deserved it." Bilbo sent a quick smile but at the wizard before the greasy man grudgingly came over and began to usher Bilbo away, making his smile instantly drop. He didn't like this man very much at all, and he smelt rather funny too. Like rotten fish.

Behind him, he heard the man cursing as a group of people walked in front of them, and he roughly pushed his way between them. He gave Bilbo an aggressive shove on the back and growled, "Move it! Stupid..."

The hobbit sighed; it was going to be a long night.

Please Rate and Review!