The night was cold as a mixed army marched towards the mountain range. It was a rare occurance to see a group this mixed. Man, dwarves, and even the elves marched side by side. There hadn't been an alliance like this in centuries.

The rulers of the three races marched in front. Perched on a regal elk, twice the size of the men's horses, was Thranduil, king of the Mirkwood elves. His army shone in the moonlight like the mithral in his crown. His face was set in a hard frown, hands clenched in his ride's reigns the closer they came to the mountain.

Beside him, was the new king of the kingdom of Dale, King Bard. He rode a beautiful brindle horse as easily as he held his bow and arrows. He would shift every so often to adjust his armor or the crown on his head. The outfit was something he had yet to get used to.

To the far end, on a salt and pepper pony, rode Thorin Oakenshield, king of the dwarves of Erebor. His armor was covered with a fur cloak just as dark as his hair. The bright blue of his eyes was almost the only feature seen of his face under the darkness of his hair and beard.

This alliance had come after many years of infighting. The kingdoms had their ups and downs, but now had a common enemy. The beast the resided in the mountains terrorized every kingdom, uncaring of race or terrain. It had stolen many things from everyone. It was a menance that had made the three kings agree to a truce enough to bring the demon down and return the stolen items to the rightful homes.

The demon they were hunting…was the dragon Smaug.

For years now, the dragon had pillaged and stolen to his heart's content. He had destroyed Erebor and Dale in his treasure hunt. All for the gems of Dale, and the Arkenstone from the dwarves; the shiniest and most prized jewels in any land. Thranduil, however, may have lost the most important thing. The beast had taken his queen. That had been the final straw for the elves to agree to joining with the others. The elf king was out for the dragon's head.

"It is quiet," Bard commented as they paused at the treeline just before the rocks began for the mountain side.

"Too quiet," Thorin agreed.

"He must already know we are here," Thranduil added.

"The cave is just ahead," Bard continued. "We should get into position."

Thorin dismounted as Thranduil turned his elk to continue along the line of trees. Bard dismounted and started placing his men amongst the trees. The plan had been that the dwarves and men would be the front lines to pull the dragon from his lair. The elves would be scattered among the front lines, bust mostly stay within the trees with their bows and arrows. It would be hard to catch the dragon under his scales, so the men and dwarves would have to do their best to carve out a soft spot for them. Many thought it was a suicide mission, but it was better than simply letting the dragon do as he pleased throughout Middle Earth.

Thorin stood with his dwarves behind him, waiting for the signal that everyone was in place. Once it was given, he gave a loud cry and charged the opening of the cave. Bard and the men followed with them.

The noise immediately drew out the beast in a gust of fire and wind from the wings. From there, the battle was hectic. Thorin quickly lost track of the other kings as he tried to stay away from the fire and claws but still get close enough to hack at the dragon with his sword. Smaug was being overrun by the sheer number of their army. At least they had that in their favor.

Thorin didn't see what had happened at the end. There was a flash of silver and blond to his right, Thranduil, as he struck his sword out at the beast's neck. A spark and clang of metal came as his and the elf king's blade struck together at the same spot. It knocked a few scales loose. The dragon roared and spread his wings quickly, pushing them all back. Smaug flapped his wings to try and get into the air. Thorin saw Bard not far away, on his feet with bow in hand.

"The neck! Aim for its neck!" he shouted as he scrambled to get back onto his feet for another charge. There was no cue that Bard had heard him except for the man aiming a black arrow at the dragon. The black arrows were stronger than regular arrows, but the man only had a few to work with.

The first two missed. Thorin jumped into the fray again, gaining the beast's attention onto him and a small group of fighters. It knocked them back with his tail and opened his mouth to roar and let out another flame at the downed king. Thorin was sure this would be his end as he could see the red fire building in Smaug's throat.

Smaug jerked suddenly, fire dying in its throat. The dragon hacked and coughed before collapsing to its side. Thorin could see a black arrow sticking out from where the scales had been chipped away. The three kings stood side by side as the beast writhed and died slowly. They didn't expect any more surprises.

They were wrong.

As the beast took one more gasping breath, the beast started shifting. Sounds of bones breaking and rebuilding were loud in the night. Scales receded to red skin and the snout shortened to a human looking face. Once Smaug was dead, what lay before them was not the beast they had come to fear. It looked human with red skin, fire orange veins and a black tuft of hair.

"A shifter?" Thranduil breathed, blue eyes cold and hard as if he would love nothing more than to stab his sword into the body a few more times.

Bard panted softly as he put his bow back into its sling. "This answers some questions. Not everything Smaug took made sense for a dragon."

Thranduil jerked beside him. "Do not speak those thoughts, bowman," he hissed.

Bard glanced to the elf. "My apologies. It is just…a shock."

"Aye, but we can think on that later," Thorin said. "Dawn is nearly here, and we have no clue how far its lair goes into the mountain." He would have preferred to wait and rest before going in. He had a feeling that Thranduil would not wait any longer. It would be better to get it done now instead of the elf going in on his own and dying in a cave in.

"Mountains are your domain," Bard said, Thranduil huffing in irritation next to him. "How shall we proceed?"

Thorin looked at the two kings. He knew Thranduil trusted and liked him as far as the elf could throw him. Bard had been acting as the middle ground for them since they started this truce. He couldn't completely blame the elf king. He would be just as irritable if his wife and the mother of his child had been kidnapped by what they thought was a fire breathing beast.

"We should send groups in. Small groups, no more than three or four each with at least one dwarf in each to guide through the corridors," Thorin finally said. "Once we have an account of everything, we can return everything to where it needs to be."

"And the extras?" Thranduil narrowed his eyes at him.

"We split between our three kingdoms," Bard answered instead. "I would like to go in a group. I want to see everything for myself."

"I will go in as well. Legolas will be in a second group," Thranduil said, including his son who had been a part of the archer group.

Thorin nodded. "I shall go in with Dwalin and scout the tunnels ahead. That will be where the safety hazards will be."

With that decided, they split their armies into groups. Some would stay outside to set camp, care for the injured, and find the dead to take home for burial. Several small groups were created to look inside, each set with one of each race, digging tools, weapons, and parchment to account for all the treasure they find. Thorin and Dwalin were the smallest group and the scouts ahead.

"You look nearly dead on yer feet," Dwalin commented once they had broken off from the rest to scout ahead.

"So do you. And a little singed," Thorin teased in return.

Dwalin chuckled. "Just a touch, but the beard is still there." He stroked said beard as he grinned.

Thorin was exhausted, but the light banter helped restore some energy. At least enough to get through the mountain and then to a warm bed roll.

After a while of walking, Thorin noticed a difference in the hall they were in. All the halls had been carved out carefully, but this had the most structure. There was more treasure littering the hall here, leading up to a door carved into the stone. Torches lined the hall and stood on both sides of the door to give plenty of light. It was a plain door but very heavy. It took both dwarves pushing as hard as they could to get it open.

Inside, was another surprise. Gold littered everywhere, included the large, four poster bed that stood in the center. There were no windows, but fire glinted off of each gold piece and jewels to light the room remarkably. The sheets were the finest silk and unmade. Thorin noticed the top sheet was missing. No, not missing, being pulled off the edge.

He signaled Dwalin to keep quiet as he stepped to the side to see around the bed. There was movement. Dwalin held his axes at the ready while Thorin drew his sword. It could be the elf queen. It could be another enemy. They were going to be cautious.

Thorin stepped close enough to grip the silk sheet in his hand and pulled. Both dwarves jumped and the surprised squeak the other being let out when uncovered. Thorin's mind came to a screeching halt.

Sitting on the floor, and trying to make himself as small as possible in the corner between the bed and the wall, was the most beautiful being he had ever laid eyes on. Brown hair glinted in the gold light, making it look almost like the gold scattered around him. Giant, doe brown eyes stared up at him at first in fear and then in confusion. Pale skin, what was visible of it, was littered with bruises new and healing, while the other's feet had tufts of hair on top. He certainly wasn't like anyone Thorin had ever seen.

The other shifted again. The sheet slipped from Thorin's grasp, his mind too focused on the being in front of him. The other pulled the sheet closer to him as if it could hide him away. The movement brought Thorin's attention to the part of his body he was trying to hide the most and the sight surprised him again.

This beautiful creature was pregnant.