Bilbo shadowed the Elves until they reached what looked like a solid wall with doors. He slipped the ring onto his finger.
In an instant, he vanished and followed them. At the very last moment, just as the doors began to close, he slid through the narrowing gap and disappeared inside.
Luke watched the entrance close itself completely.
He glanced sideways at Wanda. "So," he said calmly, "your confusion magic works fine, right?"
"Yes?" Wanda replied, unsure where this was going. She'd tested it more than enough times—mostly on Pietro.
"Good," Luke said. "You're about to put it to proper use."
Before either of them could react, Luke grabbed both Wanda and Natasha by the arms.
The forest snapped out of existence.
They reappeared inside the Woodland Realm, stone and living roots stretching into elegant halls lit by soft, green light. The air smelled of leaves and cold water. Elven voices echoed faintly in the distance.
They were standing just behind a lone guard near a row of cells.
The guard turned—
Luke moved first.
A clean, precise chop to the side of the neck. The Elf crumpled without a sound, unconscious before he even hit the floor.
Wanda stared at the halls, eyes wide, taking in the glowing stone, living roots, and soft green light.
"Wow… I feel like I'm in a movie," she whispered. "Everything looks like it came straight out of a book."
Luke almost said you are, but—
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
His phone alarm went off.
"…Fuck. I forgot this thing," Luke muttered, yanking the phone out and stabbing the screen to silence it.
Too late.
The sharp sound echoed down the corridor.
From somewhere deeper in the halls came the clatter of boots and raised voices—Elven guards reacting instantly. Luke turned to warn them—
—and found empty air.
Natasha and Wanda were already gone, vanished into cover without a word.
Luke blinked once, then let out a short breath.
"…Wow," he said quietly. "They didn't even need instructions."
Luke rolled his shoulders, glanced down the corridor, and smiled faintly.
"Alright," he muttered. "Guess it's on me now."
Luke glanced down the corridor, then spotted an open cell. Without hesitation, he stepped inside, pulled the door shut behind him, and sat down against the wall like he belonged there.
Yep.
If anyone was missing, they'd look outside.
A prisoner was the safest place to hide.
Luke stretched his neck and let out a quiet breath.
"Ah… missed this feeling," he said lightly, looking around the cell. "Brings back memories."
Footsteps approached.
Elven voices echoed through the halls.
"There's a guard down."
"Search the area."
"Check the cells."
The sound of boots grew closer as the elves moved methodically from door to door. One of them stopped in front of Luke's cell.
Tauriel.
She frowned the moment she saw inside.
This cell was supposed to be empty.
Inside, a human prisoner sat with his back turned, leaning against the wall, scratching his neck lazily like someone half-asleep.
"Turn around," Tauriel said sharply.
Luke turned, slow and unbothered, blinking up at her as if he'd just been disturbed.
"What," he asked mildly, "a prisoner can't sleep now?"
Tauriel frowned, studying him closely.
They didn't keep human prisoners here.
And the door—she glanced at the lock it was open.
If the cell had been open… why hadn't he escaped?
This prisoner didn't make sense.
"You," Tauriel said sharply. "Who are you?"
Luke didn't even bother standing. He turned his head slightly, eyes half-lidded, then looked back at the stone wall like the question didn't deserve an answer.
"No need to mind me," he said calmly. "I'm just… passing time."
That did it.
Tauriel's frown deepened. Something about his tone—too relaxed, too unconcerned—set every instinct she had on edge.
She didn't argue.
The cell door swung open with a sharp clang.
Tauriel raised her blade and pointed it straight at him. "Out. Now."
Luke glanced at the sword, then up at her face, mildly curious. He sighed, pushed himself to his feet, and stretched like he'd just woken from a long nap.
"See?" he said as he stepped forward. "Perfectly cooperative prisoner."
Then his damn alarm rang again.
A sharp, cheerful chime echoed through the cell—completely out of place in the stone corridor.
Luke froze.
"…I swear I turned that off."
He reached for his pocket, but Tauriel reacted faster. Her sword flashed—not to strike him, but his coat. The fabric split cleanly, and something small and glowing clattered into her hand.
She stared at it, brow furrowing as it buzzed and lit up again.
"What is this?" Tauriel demanded, holding it up between two fingers as if it might bite her. "It makes noise. It glows."
Luke sighed, already regretting every life choice that led here. "That's my cell phone. I meant to smash it the first time it betrayed me. Clearly, I underestimated its spite."
"Cell… phone?" Tauriel repeated slowly. "Is it a weapon?"
"No," Luke said honestly. "If it were, I'd be dead by now. It's just a common tool. Communication. Time. Annoying reminders."
The phone chimed again.
Tauriel's eyes narrowed. "It speaks."
"It nags," Luke corrected. "Big difference."
She studied the device in silence, then looked back at him—suspicion sharpened, blade still ready.
"A human who carries glowing, talking objects," she said coolly. "You are either a liar… or—"
"—an innocent person," Luke cut in smoothly, flashing an easy smile.
He spread his arms a little, deliberately relaxed. "I mean, look at me. Do I really look like someone who could harm anyone?" He tapped his own chest. "Frail body. Soft hands. And I was imprisoned by your people for crossing into the forest, not for attacking anyone."
Tauriel didn't lower her sword, but her frown deepened. This didn't add up.
Then the phone chimed again.
Luke winced. "Damn this alarm."
Her blade twitched. "Can you make it stop?"
"Yes," Luke said quickly. He took the device back and swiped at it, finally silencing the sound. "There. Dead. Or… sleeping. One of those."
She watched closely, curiosity beginning to override suspicion. "So," Tauriel said after a moment, "what else does this thing do?"
Luke scratched the back of his head. "A lot of things. But without connection, not much works." He paused, then added, "It can draw pictures."
Her eyes narrowed. "Pictures? From something this small?"
"Yes."
Before she could object, Luke raised the phone. There was a brief flash of light.
Tauriel instinctively tightened her grip on the sword, but Luke immediately turned the screen toward her.
She froze.
On the glass surface was her. Perfectly captured—braids, armor, expression and all.
"That…" she said slowly, lowering her blade inch by inch. "That is me."
"Yep," Luke said. "Didn't even need paint."
"But how?" Tauriel murmured, staring at the image. "How can it capture a likeness in a single breath?"
"Technology," Luke said simply. "Or magic, depending on who you ask."
At a distance, behind a stone wall, two heads slowly peeked out.
Wanda whispered, "Should we… help?"
Natasha watched the scene with flat eyes and folded arms. "Help with what? He's not in danger."
She tilted her head slightly, watching Luke talk far too comfortably with an armed elf. "He's just fooling the poor woman."
"…Elf," Wanda corrected softly.
Natasha smirked. "Exactly."
*****
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