Fic: Out of the Shadows
2026-02-22 12:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rodoTitle: Out of the Shadows
Fandom: The Hobbit (2012-2014)
Author:rodo
Length: 2,398 words
Rating: 6+
Characters: Legolas & Tauriel
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Warner Bros. et al.
Beta: starsprightly
A/N: written for Nicky_Gabriel during 2026’scandyheartsex
Summary: To Tauriel, Legolas was barely more than a stranger – until the day she stumbled into saving his life.
Out of the Shadow
“Have any of you seen Prince Legolas? The king is looking for him,” Tauriel’s captain asked.
Tauriel shook her head, as did the rest of the guards currently preparing for their patrol. When the captain was gone, they all looked at each other in question. It wasn’t like the prince to disappear, not that Tauriel knew him well. He’d been one of her masters in archery, and he’d led patrol a few times since she’d joined the guard, but that was it. He was a prince and she a lowly guard.
“I heard he does that sometimes,” one of the others said. “Vanish and go off into the woods when he’s not on duty. He always turns up after a day or two.”
“Oh, to be a prince,” another mused.
The rest of them laughed, envying the prince’s freedom. They were on duty most days, and truth be told, Tauriel didn’t even know what she’d do with that much free time.
Soon enough, the question was forgotten as Tauriel and the others turned their thoughts to their upcoming patrol.
*
Tauriel stared at the broken brushwood. Not too far away, she could hear the forest river burble. The disturbance was a recent one, and it could have been anything – a deer, maybe, or a fox. Not a boar, they tended to leave more of a mess behind, like overturned earth or fur on a tree. This was localised; there were no scraps of fur, no blood, nothing. Only a couple of broken branches. Nothing to worry about, according to the others.
Nothing else seemed out of place. Not even tracks. That was what gave her pause. Very few creatures moved as light as an Elf.
“Are you coming?” Anoriel asked.
Tauriel shook her head. “I will catch up with you,” she promised.
“Suit yourself,” Anoriel replied, in a tone that implied she would be on her own if their captain chewed her out about it later on. It was a risk worth taking.
Once she was alone, Tauriel took a better look around, and the more she did, the more a feeling of unease settled over her. Something was wrong. Finally, she spotted what she was looking for: a single wisp of spider-silk, high up in the branches. It was longer and thicker than any spider-silk she had seen before – and there were no other webs around. Tauriel climbed up into the tree to get a good look. Yes, something was most definitely wrong. Four trees to the south, there was another string of spider-silk. Then more broken branches. A trail that led south across the river, outside of the borders of their realm. She hesitated for a moment. The guard wasn’t supposed to venture south of the river. Maybe it was because she was young and reckless. Maybe it was the curiosity that burned in her stomach that convinced her to push caution aside, but she was certain that she could weather the consequences of disobedience. One misstep could be forgiven, after all. With a leap, she jumped to the tree across the river, pursuing whatever had dared to disturb the peace of the forest.
The sun was high in the sky – or should be, the canopy was too thick to tell for sure – when Tauriel reached a part of the forest that was deeply changed. She hadn’t been this far south in a long time, but in the memories of her childhood, there were butterflies and deep green bracken. Now, the trees had grown gnarly, the bracken grey, and she saw not a single bright wing flutter past. What had happened while she’d been training in Thranduil’s halls? And then there were the spiders. She didn’t see a single one, but the webs spoke volumes. It looked as if the branches were draped in sticky cloth. There must have been millions of them to create this volume of silk…
Her eyes fell on a strange sight: a ball of spider-silk that looked like a fly stashed away for later, but impossibly larger. It almost looked as if a Man was trapped inside and dread crept into her heart as she imagined her face covered in sticky silk. Before she knew what she was doing, she’d climbed down the last tree and stood before it, then severed the tough string with one of her knives.
Tauriel gasped when she revealed Prince Legolas’s face. She hurried to remove the rest of the cocoon, her heart beating fast while her head refused to believe what she saw. The trees groaned in the wind, and Legolas lay still like a corpse. His face was sallow, and his skin cool. Tauriel put a finger to his throat, hoping. Then she felt it: a pulse, strong but slow.
Legolas blinked. He stared at her in confusion for a moment. “Tauriel?”
She nodded. “What happened?”
He opened his mouth, but before he could tell her, his eyes widened in terror. Tauriel didn’t hesitate; she grabbed her daggers and turned around, ready to face her enemy. She had not expected to find a giant spider moving towards her at the speed of a horse, but her shock lasted only for a second. With a war cry she threw herself at the creature, sliding underneath the large body and burying a knife in its sternum. The creature twitched one last time, then curled up with its legs in a ball.
When she turned towards her prince, Legolas was trying to shake off whatever poison had incapacitated him, drawing himself upright with the help of a tree. He would have looked like a newborn fawn that didn’t know what to do with its legs if it wasn’t for the pallor still clinging to his skin.
“There’s more,” he told her. “I saw at least a dozen when…” he shook his head again as if there were webs in it. “I killed two. Where are the others? Where are we?”
“Half a day south of the river,” she told him. “I followed the trail alone while the others stayed on patrol. We’re on our own.” What had happened to the creatures he’d killed? Did they eat their own? She shook off the thought and focused her eyes and ears on their surroundings. The forest was thick and still, barely clinging to life. Now that she looked around more, she spotted other animals captured by the giant spiders; one open sack seemed to contain the remains of a deer, while another held the remains of a wolf.
“The king needs to know about this,” she said.
Legolas agreed with a nod. His steps were still stiff and shaky, and Tauriel worried they weren’t moving fast enough. The spiders were at least as fast as she was. If they found them, their only choice was a fight – and whether Tauriel could win one on her own was uncertain.
The trees cracked, and Tauriel dragged Legolas into the shadow of a hollow tree. On the forest floor beyond their shelter, she could see a giant shadow with eight legs move past, murmuring to itself. Was it just the one, or were there more? One wouldn’t pose a problem…
“I can fight,” Legolas hissed. “Give me one of your knives.”
Tauriel looked at him, pale and clinging to the rotting wood sheltering them.
“No,” she told him.
“Tauriel,” he said, a clear threat.
She looked at him. “You can complain to my superior once we’re back home,” she told him. “Until then, I’m going to do my duty, which is to protect our forest and all who dwell within.” Which included him.
Legolas made a face, but he relented. They listened in silence as another spider moved past, then another. They were calm and their movements leisurely. They hadn’t yet found out that their prey was missing and that one of their compatriots was dead. They weren’t even worried about Elves coming to kill them. This was their home, and they felt safe and secure. Tauriel felt sick. This was not how things are supposed to be. This was once a forest that belonged to the Elves, and now they were reduced to sneaking around to keep away from the spiders.
Due to Legolas’s injury, they had to move in the shadow of spiderwebs while avoiding the eyes of the fell creatures. They barely made it halfway back to the river by nightfall. At least the oppressive webs eventually became less dense, then disappeared completely. Once the darkness had fully settled, Tauriel led Legolas to a small overhang, and they sat down to rest, not least because Legolas had not fully recovered.
“What are those creatures?” she wondered out loud, just to fill the silence.
Legolas sighed. “I’ve heard of their kind before, but they used to dwell much farther south. Never would I have thought to encounter them in our forest.”
Tauriel didn’t quite know what to say to that. The very south of the forest around Dol Guldur had been abandoned long before her birth, maybe even before her parents’ birth. But the other side of the river had always been safe, thanks to the frequent patrols. No Orc dared to set foot there, unlike the vast spaces in between. This part of the forest had been home to Elves once, too – including herself. Now, none remained.
“You’re quiet.”
She sighed. “I just wish I could do something more,” she told him. “This forest is my home.”
Legolas hummed and stared upwards as if he could see the stars if he tried hard enough.
“I know how you feel. Something has been off lately – more so than usual. That’s why I wanted to find out why there were fewer deer roaming the forest near the river. It seems we need to do more than keep to our borders to keep them safe.”
Tauriel felt much the same. In fact, it was a feeling that ran so deep for her, it had motivated her to join the guard when many others preferred to dedicate themselves to crafts like weaving or needlework. Not Tauriel. She’d been too young when peace had been ripped from her heart.
“We should have done that centuries ago,” she murmured.
Legolas gave her a queer look. “Fighting the shadow has a price. Are you willing to pay it?”
Tauriel returned his gaze. Maybe she should have looked away; he was a prince, after all. But this, she felt too strongly about. “Doing nothing has a price as well. I grew up not too far from here, before Orcs came from the south and killed half my village, including my parents. I hate to see the forest they loved wither away slowly.”
“As do I,” the prince confessed. “My mother loved this forest more than anyone. I wish we could preserve the beauty it has left.”
And yet, they were both bound by their oaths and their loyalty. Maybe the king was right. Maybe they couldn’t free the entire forest from the darkness, or even rid it of the monsters that haunted it. They were few, greatly diminished compared to ages past.
“Shouldn’t we at least try?” Tauriel asked.
Legolas smiled when he heard her say that. “My father will see reason eventually. Maybe not now, maybe not in a hundred years, but he is no coward. He has seen a great many wars and knows how to pick his battles.”
Tauriel nodded and leaned back. Above her, leaves rustled. An owl hooted. There was still life in this forest, and she would fight for it. When dawn broke, and the birds woke up, so did hope. Legolas looked much better; when they stood up, he was no longer sickly pale, and his limbs moved with their usual ease.
“Can I have a knife now?” he asked with a smile.
Tauriel handed him one.
“I suppose that means I am now judged competent enough to fight for myself by your discerning eye, my lady?”
Tauriel raised an eyebrow at him. “I am not so sure, my prince. Your head might have suffered more than I previously thought.”
Legolas laughed so loudly that the birds took flight.
*
They arrived back home shortly before midday. Legolas looked much the worse for wear, with spider-silk clinging to his tunic and his weapons likely tossed in a hole somewhere by greedy pincers, but his constitution had fully recovered. In the light of day and the safety of their home, Tauriel was heartened by the fact that the spiders had taken care to disguise their presence on their lands. They were scared of the Elves, not yet ready to fight them for real. There was time yet.
Her captain stared at the pair of them for a long moment when they presented themselves, as if he was trying to make sense of the strange picture life had painted before him.
“It is good to have you back safe and sound, my prince,” he told Legolas before turning his attention to Tauriel. “You abandoned your post. You know the rules.”
“Sir—” Tauriel began.
“She saved my life,” Legolas said. “If she hadn’t followed her instinct, I would be dead, and we would be none the wiser to enemies on our doorstep.” He placed a hand on her right shoulder and stood closer than he usually would. Tauriel felt both disconcerted and comforted by it.
In the end, there was little a mere captain of the guard could do against the word of a prince, even if he looked like he very much wanted to. Tauriel didn’t hold it against him – the rules had kept them safe for centuries. A guard who ignored them at will was a problem for him, and she knew she’d need to keep her head down for a while.
Legolas knew it too. It was no coincidence that they saw each other more often after that day, but Tauriel never said anything. They worked well together on the hunt – the king did approve of a raiding party clearing out the spider nest – and sparring with Legolas felt as natural as summer rain on her face. Occasionally, there would be glances from the others, asking themselves what the prince saw in this Sylvan guard, but Tauriel paid them little mind – it would take decades until she’d call him such in her heart, but Legolas had become her friend. And she his.
Fin
Fandom: The Hobbit (2012-2014)
Author:
rodoLength: 2,398 words
Rating: 6+
Characters: Legolas & Tauriel
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Warner Bros. et al.
Beta: starsprightly
A/N: written for Nicky_Gabriel during 2026’s
candyheartsexSummary: To Tauriel, Legolas was barely more than a stranger – until the day she stumbled into saving his life.
“Have any of you seen Prince Legolas? The king is looking for him,” Tauriel’s captain asked.
Tauriel shook her head, as did the rest of the guards currently preparing for their patrol. When the captain was gone, they all looked at each other in question. It wasn’t like the prince to disappear, not that Tauriel knew him well. He’d been one of her masters in archery, and he’d led patrol a few times since she’d joined the guard, but that was it. He was a prince and she a lowly guard.
“I heard he does that sometimes,” one of the others said. “Vanish and go off into the woods when he’s not on duty. He always turns up after a day or two.”
“Oh, to be a prince,” another mused.
The rest of them laughed, envying the prince’s freedom. They were on duty most days, and truth be told, Tauriel didn’t even know what she’d do with that much free time.
Soon enough, the question was forgotten as Tauriel and the others turned their thoughts to their upcoming patrol.
Tauriel stared at the broken brushwood. Not too far away, she could hear the forest river burble. The disturbance was a recent one, and it could have been anything – a deer, maybe, or a fox. Not a boar, they tended to leave more of a mess behind, like overturned earth or fur on a tree. This was localised; there were no scraps of fur, no blood, nothing. Only a couple of broken branches. Nothing to worry about, according to the others.
Nothing else seemed out of place. Not even tracks. That was what gave her pause. Very few creatures moved as light as an Elf.
“Are you coming?” Anoriel asked.
Tauriel shook her head. “I will catch up with you,” she promised.
“Suit yourself,” Anoriel replied, in a tone that implied she would be on her own if their captain chewed her out about it later on. It was a risk worth taking.
Once she was alone, Tauriel took a better look around, and the more she did, the more a feeling of unease settled over her. Something was wrong. Finally, she spotted what she was looking for: a single wisp of spider-silk, high up in the branches. It was longer and thicker than any spider-silk she had seen before – and there were no other webs around. Tauriel climbed up into the tree to get a good look. Yes, something was most definitely wrong. Four trees to the south, there was another string of spider-silk. Then more broken branches. A trail that led south across the river, outside of the borders of their realm. She hesitated for a moment. The guard wasn’t supposed to venture south of the river. Maybe it was because she was young and reckless. Maybe it was the curiosity that burned in her stomach that convinced her to push caution aside, but she was certain that she could weather the consequences of disobedience. One misstep could be forgiven, after all. With a leap, she jumped to the tree across the river, pursuing whatever had dared to disturb the peace of the forest.
The sun was high in the sky – or should be, the canopy was too thick to tell for sure – when Tauriel reached a part of the forest that was deeply changed. She hadn’t been this far south in a long time, but in the memories of her childhood, there were butterflies and deep green bracken. Now, the trees had grown gnarly, the bracken grey, and she saw not a single bright wing flutter past. What had happened while she’d been training in Thranduil’s halls? And then there were the spiders. She didn’t see a single one, but the webs spoke volumes. It looked as if the branches were draped in sticky cloth. There must have been millions of them to create this volume of silk…
Her eyes fell on a strange sight: a ball of spider-silk that looked like a fly stashed away for later, but impossibly larger. It almost looked as if a Man was trapped inside and dread crept into her heart as she imagined her face covered in sticky silk. Before she knew what she was doing, she’d climbed down the last tree and stood before it, then severed the tough string with one of her knives.
Tauriel gasped when she revealed Prince Legolas’s face. She hurried to remove the rest of the cocoon, her heart beating fast while her head refused to believe what she saw. The trees groaned in the wind, and Legolas lay still like a corpse. His face was sallow, and his skin cool. Tauriel put a finger to his throat, hoping. Then she felt it: a pulse, strong but slow.
Legolas blinked. He stared at her in confusion for a moment. “Tauriel?”
She nodded. “What happened?”
He opened his mouth, but before he could tell her, his eyes widened in terror. Tauriel didn’t hesitate; she grabbed her daggers and turned around, ready to face her enemy. She had not expected to find a giant spider moving towards her at the speed of a horse, but her shock lasted only for a second. With a war cry she threw herself at the creature, sliding underneath the large body and burying a knife in its sternum. The creature twitched one last time, then curled up with its legs in a ball.
When she turned towards her prince, Legolas was trying to shake off whatever poison had incapacitated him, drawing himself upright with the help of a tree. He would have looked like a newborn fawn that didn’t know what to do with its legs if it wasn’t for the pallor still clinging to his skin.
“There’s more,” he told her. “I saw at least a dozen when…” he shook his head again as if there were webs in it. “I killed two. Where are the others? Where are we?”
“Half a day south of the river,” she told him. “I followed the trail alone while the others stayed on patrol. We’re on our own.” What had happened to the creatures he’d killed? Did they eat their own? She shook off the thought and focused her eyes and ears on their surroundings. The forest was thick and still, barely clinging to life. Now that she looked around more, she spotted other animals captured by the giant spiders; one open sack seemed to contain the remains of a deer, while another held the remains of a wolf.
“The king needs to know about this,” she said.
Legolas agreed with a nod. His steps were still stiff and shaky, and Tauriel worried they weren’t moving fast enough. The spiders were at least as fast as she was. If they found them, their only choice was a fight – and whether Tauriel could win one on her own was uncertain.
The trees cracked, and Tauriel dragged Legolas into the shadow of a hollow tree. On the forest floor beyond their shelter, she could see a giant shadow with eight legs move past, murmuring to itself. Was it just the one, or were there more? One wouldn’t pose a problem…
“I can fight,” Legolas hissed. “Give me one of your knives.”
Tauriel looked at him, pale and clinging to the rotting wood sheltering them.
“No,” she told him.
“Tauriel,” he said, a clear threat.
She looked at him. “You can complain to my superior once we’re back home,” she told him. “Until then, I’m going to do my duty, which is to protect our forest and all who dwell within.” Which included him.
Legolas made a face, but he relented. They listened in silence as another spider moved past, then another. They were calm and their movements leisurely. They hadn’t yet found out that their prey was missing and that one of their compatriots was dead. They weren’t even worried about Elves coming to kill them. This was their home, and they felt safe and secure. Tauriel felt sick. This was not how things are supposed to be. This was once a forest that belonged to the Elves, and now they were reduced to sneaking around to keep away from the spiders.
Due to Legolas’s injury, they had to move in the shadow of spiderwebs while avoiding the eyes of the fell creatures. They barely made it halfway back to the river by nightfall. At least the oppressive webs eventually became less dense, then disappeared completely. Once the darkness had fully settled, Tauriel led Legolas to a small overhang, and they sat down to rest, not least because Legolas had not fully recovered.
“What are those creatures?” she wondered out loud, just to fill the silence.
Legolas sighed. “I’ve heard of their kind before, but they used to dwell much farther south. Never would I have thought to encounter them in our forest.”
Tauriel didn’t quite know what to say to that. The very south of the forest around Dol Guldur had been abandoned long before her birth, maybe even before her parents’ birth. But the other side of the river had always been safe, thanks to the frequent patrols. No Orc dared to set foot there, unlike the vast spaces in between. This part of the forest had been home to Elves once, too – including herself. Now, none remained.
“You’re quiet.”
She sighed. “I just wish I could do something more,” she told him. “This forest is my home.”
Legolas hummed and stared upwards as if he could see the stars if he tried hard enough.
“I know how you feel. Something has been off lately – more so than usual. That’s why I wanted to find out why there were fewer deer roaming the forest near the river. It seems we need to do more than keep to our borders to keep them safe.”
Tauriel felt much the same. In fact, it was a feeling that ran so deep for her, it had motivated her to join the guard when many others preferred to dedicate themselves to crafts like weaving or needlework. Not Tauriel. She’d been too young when peace had been ripped from her heart.
“We should have done that centuries ago,” she murmured.
Legolas gave her a queer look. “Fighting the shadow has a price. Are you willing to pay it?”
Tauriel returned his gaze. Maybe she should have looked away; he was a prince, after all. But this, she felt too strongly about. “Doing nothing has a price as well. I grew up not too far from here, before Orcs came from the south and killed half my village, including my parents. I hate to see the forest they loved wither away slowly.”
“As do I,” the prince confessed. “My mother loved this forest more than anyone. I wish we could preserve the beauty it has left.”
And yet, they were both bound by their oaths and their loyalty. Maybe the king was right. Maybe they couldn’t free the entire forest from the darkness, or even rid it of the monsters that haunted it. They were few, greatly diminished compared to ages past.
“Shouldn’t we at least try?” Tauriel asked.
Legolas smiled when he heard her say that. “My father will see reason eventually. Maybe not now, maybe not in a hundred years, but he is no coward. He has seen a great many wars and knows how to pick his battles.”
Tauriel nodded and leaned back. Above her, leaves rustled. An owl hooted. There was still life in this forest, and she would fight for it. When dawn broke, and the birds woke up, so did hope. Legolas looked much better; when they stood up, he was no longer sickly pale, and his limbs moved with their usual ease.
“Can I have a knife now?” he asked with a smile.
Tauriel handed him one.
“I suppose that means I am now judged competent enough to fight for myself by your discerning eye, my lady?”
Tauriel raised an eyebrow at him. “I am not so sure, my prince. Your head might have suffered more than I previously thought.”
Legolas laughed so loudly that the birds took flight.
They arrived back home shortly before midday. Legolas looked much the worse for wear, with spider-silk clinging to his tunic and his weapons likely tossed in a hole somewhere by greedy pincers, but his constitution had fully recovered. In the light of day and the safety of their home, Tauriel was heartened by the fact that the spiders had taken care to disguise their presence on their lands. They were scared of the Elves, not yet ready to fight them for real. There was time yet.
Her captain stared at the pair of them for a long moment when they presented themselves, as if he was trying to make sense of the strange picture life had painted before him.
“It is good to have you back safe and sound, my prince,” he told Legolas before turning his attention to Tauriel. “You abandoned your post. You know the rules.”
“Sir—” Tauriel began.
“She saved my life,” Legolas said. “If she hadn’t followed her instinct, I would be dead, and we would be none the wiser to enemies on our doorstep.” He placed a hand on her right shoulder and stood closer than he usually would. Tauriel felt both disconcerted and comforted by it.
In the end, there was little a mere captain of the guard could do against the word of a prince, even if he looked like he very much wanted to. Tauriel didn’t hold it against him – the rules had kept them safe for centuries. A guard who ignored them at will was a problem for him, and she knew she’d need to keep her head down for a while.
Legolas knew it too. It was no coincidence that they saw each other more often after that day, but Tauriel never said anything. They worked well together on the hunt – the king did approve of a raiding party clearing out the spider nest – and sparring with Legolas felt as natural as summer rain on her face. Occasionally, there would be glances from the others, asking themselves what the prince saw in this Sylvan guard, but Tauriel paid them little mind – it would take decades until she’d call him such in her heart, but Legolas had become her friend. And she his.
