Pov narrator

This book will occur in the two last movies of Tolkiens the hobbit. I will be putting in the love interest of the reader (you) in some places. My writing will mainly write this book. Some may have the script, and it might not. I'll see how far I get. Anyways, let's start! 🐉
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As you glided gracefully from one tree to another, your acute and slightly fur-covered ears picked up an unfamiliar sound that echoed through the otherwise tranquil forest—voices, but not the melodious tones of the elves you were accustomed to. These were coarser, more unrefined. You furrowed your brow in curiosity, as the voices grew louder and more distinct. They were definitely not elvish, nor were they the harmonious whispers of the trees you so often heard in the woods.

You alighted upon a sturdy branch, feeling the gentle sway of the tree beneath your feet, and listened intently. The voices grew clearer, and soon you recognized the gruff timbre of the dwarves, a race known for their industrious spirit and fiery temperament. This was an unexpected encounter, as dwarves rarely ventured into these parts, especially not in such a large group. The trees whispered of their approach, and you felt a strange excitement bubble up within you. It wasn't often that you had the opportunity to observe creatures from afar, and the prospect of witnessing a rare gathering of dwarves was too intriguing to ignore.

As you peered down through the dense foliage, you noticed something peculiar—the scent of a hobbit wafted through the air. Hobbits, those simple, peace-loving beings, were almost never seen outside their cozy abodes in the Shire. It was quite extraordinary to detect their presence here, so far from their comfortable, bucolic lifestyle. You couldn't help but wonder what had brought them to such a place, and what kind of adventure they were embarking upon.

Yielding to your inquisitive nature, you began to inch closer to the unusual assembly, taking care to remain unseen. Your movements were fluid, a testament to your elongated limbs and the time you had spent honing your skills in the treetops. You were a creature of the heights, and the dense canopy was your sanctuary.

The company of travelers grew more distinct, and you discerned a variety of sizes and shapes. The dwarves were stout and broad-shouldered, their beards thick and unruly, while the hobbit was noticeably smaller, with a gentle glow about him that seemed to emanate from his very soul. They were engaged in a heated debate, the subject of which eluded your understanding, but the urgency was palpable.

As you drew nearer, you observed the hobbit's eyes darting around nervously, as if searching for something—or someone. He looked up in the direction of your perch, and for a brief moment, you thought he had spotted you. But no, he was merely scanning the surroundings, oblivious to the creature lurking above. The dwarves paid him no heed, absorbed as they were in their own bickering.

Suddenly, you felt a chilling presence, a shiver down your spine. The unmistakable scent of spiders, those loathsome creatures of the dark, filled the air. The dwarves had clearly disturbed them, and now they were drawing nearer. Your instincts took over, and you bared your teeth, a fierce and intimidating sight for any creature to behold—but these were not ordinary teeth. They were the teeth of a dragon, long and sharp as the shadows that cloaked the forest floor.

The hobbit, seemingly unfazed by the impending danger, began to ascend the very tree in which you were hiding. He moved with surprising agility for one of his stature, his eyes still searching for something unseen. As he climbed closer to your concealed position, you felt a strange kinship with him. He was small and unassuming, much like the prey you often stalked, but there was something endearing about his determination.

When he reached your branch, he patted the tree absently, the gesture reminiscent of one comforting a friend. You held your breath, certain he would feel your presence, but he remained blissfully unaware. It was as if the shadows themselves had swallowed you whole, leaving you nothing but a silent sentinel.

The spiders grew bolder, and you watched with a mix of horror and fascination as they descended upon the unsuspecting dwarves. They were swift and merciless, wrapping their sticky webs around the stout figures and pulling them into the underbrush. Despite your instinct to intervene, you knew that the creatures of the forest had their own battles to fight. Your allegiance lay with the trees, and you were not one to meddle in the affairs of others—unless it served your purpose or the protection of the forest itself.

The hobbit, meanwhile, continued his ascent, seemingly oblivious to the peril that had befallen his companions. It was only when he reached a particularly dense cluster of leaves that he paused, his eyes widening as he took in the scene below. But by then, it was too late for the dwarves.

You chose to maintain your concealment, a silent witness to the unfolding drama. The hobbit's gaze searched the tree tops, and you knew he was seeking aid. But you remained hidden, the shadows your ally. It was not your fight, after all. Yet, you couldn't shake the feeling that you had made an unusual ally in this tiny creature.

As the commotion below grew distant, you could not help but feel a pang of something akin to regret for not having acted. But the forest had its own rhythms, its own laws, and you were a part of it. Still, the encounter with the hobbit and the dwarves lingered in your mind, a curious interlude in the otherwise predictable patterns of your existence.

And as you melted back into the embrace of the trees, you found yourself contemplating the vast web of life that stretched across the lands, and the strange paths that fate weaves for even the most unlikely of companions.

With a heavy exhale, you summoned your magical prowess to meticulously disentangle the sticky webs that had ensnared several terrified dwarves. Despite the initial apprehension they might have felt towards you, a human standing before them with a bow and swords at your hips, your valiant act of heroism had earned their gratitude, especially from a certain hobbit named Bilbo. The air of distrust that may have lingered was quickly dispelled as your actions spoke louder than your unconventional appearance.

The dwarves, now freed from their spider-spun prisons, looked upon you with a mix of relief and wariness. Yet, the brief moment of camaraderie was abruptly shattered as the shadow of doubt once again loomed over the group. The forest grew tense, and before you knew it, you and Bilbo were forcefully escorted back into the fold of Thorin and his companions. The tip of an arrow kissed the cold air above your heads, a stark reminder of the precarious situation you found yourselves in.

As you were corralled along with the dwarves, you caught a glimpse of a figure emerging from the dense foliage. The elven prince of Mirkwood, Legolas, stepped forth, his icy blue gaze piercing through the chaos. His demeanor was unmistakable; the sharpness of his gaze and the malice in his voice sent a chill down your spine as he threatened the dwarves. "Do not think for a moment that I will not end your lives," he hissed with unbridled hostility. "It would be an honor that I would not refuse."

Your eyes narrowed, yet you remained steadfast, refusing to succumb to the fear that seemed to be a second skin for those around you. With a sense of urgency, you stepped forward, placing yourself between the elf and the dwarves. "I assure you, Prince Legolas," you began, your voice measured and calm, "this dwarf is not what he seems. I demand that you release them, or I will be compelled to have a rather serious discussion with your king regarding this unprovoked aggression."

The elven prince's gaze shifted to you, his eyes widening with a hint of surprise. "And pray tell, who might you be to issue such a command?" he questioned, curiosity and skepticism intertwining in his tone.

Your smirk was fleeting, a glimpse of the confidence you held within you. "My identity, your highness, will be revealed in due course," you replied with a touch of sarcasm. "For now, let's just say that I am an individual with certain... affiliations."

The tension grew thicker than the webs you had so recently dismantled. The prince studied you, his eyes searching for any sign of deceit or weakness. Yet, he found none. His curiosity piqued, he hesitated for a brief instant before lowering his bow. The situation was far from resolved, but for the time being, your words had bought you and the dwarves a temporary reprieve. The fate of your newfound companions and the journey ahead remained as uncertain as the shadows that danced in the heart of Mirkwood.

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Very short, I know, and I'm sorry. This'll be the kind of prologue; I don't know.

-Saph