It took much longer than anticipated for Gandalf to calm Lord Elrond from his irate mood. The elf was immensely displeased to know that he had been deceived, but the wizard was an excellent negotiator and managed to deter Elrond from sending his troops after the band of dwarves. In the end it wasn't until very late in the afternoon before Isil and Gandalf were able to take their leave of the beautiful Rivendell. They were barely a few steps out of the gate and Isil already missed the pampered lifestyle. She looked back more than once, each glance growing progressively more wistful.

"We must make haste to make up for the time we lost," Gandalf explained to her as they trekked along the rocky cliffside, following in the footsteps Isil had seen her friends take many hours before. "The dwarves will travel swiftly along these hills, even with the need for stealth coupled with Bilbo's inexperience slowing them. If we are late, Thorin will leap at the opportunity to change our plan and he will leave us behind in the Misty Mountains."

As the wizard talked Isil rushed to keep up, finding his pace unusually quickened. Gandalf studied the sky, calculating how much longer they would have before nightfall.

"We still cannot travel far past sunset; it is obvious these lands have become dangerous, no matter how much Saruman believes it to not be true." Beyond that, there was little conversation to be had. The gray wizard sometimes pointed out little landmarks, or reported where they were, and sometimes explained the cultural significance of their locations, but for the most part their breath had to be saved for the rapid pace.

Despite their late start, the duo covered a fair amount of ground in their chase. The two travelled for a time after the sun set past the horizon, but Gandalf eventually stopped them when they came upon an area he found suitable to hide in. The wizard did not pack many supplies for their journey, but what he had was enough for the two to sufficiently make camp to their liking.

Isil had been occupied in a debate with herself all day, even as she was running to catch up to Gandalf whenever she fell behind, distracted by the internal dialogue. She was thinking very hard on Galadriel's advice to tell someone what she really was. Truthfully, the only person she really wanted to tell (and realistically her only option to tell) what she really was was Gandalf. Despite thinking that he would accept her, she was held back by the thought that she would really, really be pushing her luck here. Not only was Gandalf extremely powerful (she had gathered that along her journey) and likely able to kill her with a flick of the wrist, but he already stuck his neck out for her more than she would have ever expected, considering the reaction of the company the first night she met them. On the other hand... the constant secrecy was starting to take its toll on Isil. Before her talk with Galadriel, it had been months since she shifted forms and only then did she truly realize how exhausting it was to hold one form for so long. Not to mention her voice was weak and cracked from disuse. The phrase 'use it or lose it' came to mind.

As Isil lay on the ground, staring into the small fire kindled by a tiny spark of magic, she came to her conclusion. Being forced to hide in one form would weaken her in due time, and that would slow the company down, which would erode the already tenuous trust between her and the dwarves, which means that they would abandon her no matter what Gandalf said in her favor. The wolf broke her stare from the fire for the first time in ten minutes to glance up at the grey wizard puffing peacefully at his pipe. He was quite content with the silence hanging in the air, intending on getting as much rest and relaxation in as possible before the early start tomorrow. Isil steeled herself, taking a breath in for confidence before raising herself up to pad around the flames to where Gandalf sat.

The wizard watched as Isil sat beside him, looking strangely guilty. She did not meet his eyes for a moment, but when she did he was surprised to see worry in them. She placed her paw on his knee and pressed slightly; a gesture he guessed meant 'stay here' when she turned back around to her previous position sitting behind the fire.

'Please understand,' was the only thought she could manage, taking another deep sigh in before willing her body to change shape for the second time in just about twenty-four hours. When the last of her bones creaked into place her anxious gaze leveled with the wizard's and she spoke, voice raspy and feeble.

"...Hello, Gandalf."

The wizard froze with his pipe between his teeth as soon as his wolfish companion began her transformation, and the tension radiating from the gold and white werewolf was heavy in the air. She waited after she formally greeted Gandalf for the first time ever, fearful of his reaction. He cleared his throat, and took a long draw from the pipe.

"Well," he started, smoke punctuating his words, "that was certainly unexpected."

All in all it went fairly well. They both made no moves to budge from their respective positions opposite each other with the fire between them, but Gandalf hadn't made any aggressive motions so Isil hadn't bolted in fear. After the initial shock wore off curiosity on Gandalf's part quickly filled its place. Isil answered to the best of her abilities, relieved at finally being able to speak freely but unable to clarify much. Like with Galadriel, she told him she had no real memory prior to meeting Thorin and company, only that she could talk and shapeshift. That knowledge had never left her. She relayed the elf's speculations to him and he stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"Hmm... It honestly doesn't make much sense to me... but I never claimed to understand every action the Valar take."

"You? Claiming to not know something? That's a first." She laughed, but a cough cut her short and she massaged her throat with a wince. Her voice had become progressively weaker as she told her tale. Aside from last night this was the most she had spoken in several months. Before she lost it completely, she had something she thought was important to say. "Gandalf?" she started.

"Hm?"

"I am sorry I waited so long to tell you this. I... I was afraid." The wizard inhaled his tobacco deeply.

"That is quite understandable, considering your first impressions," he said and she relaxed a bit more. "No doubt Thorin would have run you through with his blade without a second before you would have been able to get past 'hello'." That startled a coughing fit from her. Gandalf schooled the amusement at the reaction from his expression to replace it with concern. "I know this must have been difficult for you, not to mention tiring. It is late, and we have a long road ahead. Let us rest for now and we can talk again tomorrow." With that he stood to set out the fire.

Isil only nodded in agreement, not willing to risk another embarrassing fit.

In the extremely unlikely event that some travelers, friendly or otherwise, happened upon them in the night she wanted to be prepared so she shifted back into her quadrupedal form and curled up. Gandalf finished with his clean up and propped himself against a boulder, intending to finish his smoke and gather his thoughts before bed. Nearby the wolf forced down her racing thoughts through will and genuine exhaustion and fell into a light sleep.

The stars twinkled overhead in the inky black sky and somewhere far from the wolf and wizard a band of thirteen dwarves and one hobbit settled down for rest, all looking over the fields to the distant mountains that would be tomorrows destination.

A/N: It's not the best ending in the world but what the hell. I might go back and fix this up, maybe, because it's a little short but I probably won't. Thanks for the reviews; it's really nice to read them when I'm feeling down.

LovesDragons - I'm going to keep Isil's history pretty vague at best for the most part. It probably won't even come up in this story at all! Maybe in the sequel, if I ever write it.