Guys. There is less than a month until The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug.

I'll just let that sink in.

All yours,

Mistro

I do not own The Hobbit or any characters other than my OC Tormora and her father. All others belong to Peter Jackson and J.R.R. Tolkien. I figured I should do a disclaimer eventually. Ya know. Since that's kind of important and stuff.

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It was surprising how many words Thorin Oakenshield could find for his annoyance. Ahead of him on the makeshift trail, Bilbo and Tormora were laughing to the point of exhaustion. He had no inkling as to what they were talking about, but he longed to. They weren't discussing him at least, since the names "Gamgee" and "Sackville-Baggins" had been continuously brought up. Whenever Bilbo would begin his stories, the pink in his cheeks would flush a shade brighter and a lost twinkle would arise in his eyes. Energy took control of his arms and flailed them about, simultaneously reflecting a grin on Tormora's face. In fact, everyone was in a chipper mood. Thorin didn't blame them; it was nice not being on a Troll's breakfast menu.

Thorin's thoughts faded to better days as they trekked on. Memories of Erebor and Tormora's youthful face clouded his senses. He enjoyed their presence and let himself delve into the past for the time being. Although his thoughts were of simple fancies, Bilbo and Tormora continued their conversation on a more serious note.

"I recall members of my family travelling to the Shire and the Blue Mountains many decades ago." Tormora narrowed her brows as she attempted to remember the tales. "I cannot say why, nor do I believe their travels were of much importance. However, I do believe that Hobbits and Dwarves are not as different as some make us out to be."

Bilbo looked up at her with a smile and hoisted his rucksack higher onto his back. "Folks of the Shire are homely people who enjoy a good meal. There's no doubt in my mind your family members left the Shire with music in their ears and food in their stomachs." He grinned widely, pleased with the memories of Bag End, as well as the opportunity to boast about his homeland. "Perhaps you've got some Hobbit blood within you!"

"Well," Tormora shrugged. "Hobbits and Dwarves are similar in size. Perfectly suitable for mating." The pink hue of Bilbo's cheeks sudden became a burning red. Their conversation was taking a turn that he had not expected. "However!" Tormora laughed, sensing his discomfort. "Your people are quite proud of their heritage, as are mine."

Bilbo chuckled hesitantly, still trying to get the strange images out of his mind. "So… no Hobbit blood then, I suppose."

"I'm afraid not, Master Baggins. However, I think it is safe to say that I have not descended from the Long-Beards." Tormora jokingly stroked her bare chin. She easily flicked her finger off of her smooth skin, faking admiration for her porcelain complexion.

"A perfectly safe assumption!" Bilbo laughed. "Which line are you descended from?"

Tormora straightened herself with pride. "I am from the line of Blacklocks, descended from the south of Orocani. One of my grandfathers was a great explorer. He gave up the riches we had to travel and study, and therefore my family has made their own way in Middle-Earth. When he came to Erebor, he even taught Master Balin a few scholarly things."

"I should have known from the…" Bilbo awkwardly gestured towards her head. "Hair. Blacklocks. I'm presuming the hint lies within the name."

Tormora sent him a wink with her long lashes. "Another safe assumption."

Bilbo smiled proudly and let himself mentally retrace their conversation. Tormora started to eye the new sword- if one could call it that- resting on his hip. Gandalf had discovered it in the Troll cave earlier that morning, and though it was not fit for a Man, it was the perfect size for a Hobbit. "That sword will suit you well, Master Baggins. It already seems at home."

"Gandalf said something similar." Something about Bilbo's voice shifted into one of worry. The idea of having a weapon reminded him that he was far from his normal state of being. Danger was afoot in places he would never have expected. "He said it might even have a name… that it may have once belonged to a great warrior." Tormora did not want to drop his spirits, but even Bilbo knew the truth. "I can hardly believe that, considering Elves are nearly three times my size. It also looks like a butter knife."

"It is certainly sharper than that! And what matters is how you use it." Tormora was about to offer more words of support, but the quick crunching of leaves on the forest floor captured her attention instead. It caught Bilbo's as well and he had to stop himself to catch his breath. When Tormora glanced towards him, she could see fear crawling out of his every pore.

In fact, everyone was stopping their tracks. This was not the best of signs, and after an early morning with Trolls, the Company planned on being significantly more cautious. Tormora instinctively flickered her gaze towards Thorin. Trepidation in the exiled King's gaze confirmed her fears. "Something's coming!" He shouted with his sword out in the open.

Bilbo's eyes glanced up in terror towards the man he most trusted. The Wizard was already making his way to the Hobbit's side, continuing his vow to keep an eye on him. "Gandalf?" Bilbo questioned nervously.

"Stay together!" Gandalf spoke loudly. "Hurry now! Arm yourselves!"

Not a second passed Tormora by where she did not prepare herself. Before Gandalf had begun to warn them of impending doom, she was at the head of the group with her sword at the ready. Thrusting her weapon out before her, Tormora made it clear that no one would be interrogating her, or her friends, for the rest of the day.

"Thieves! Fire! Murder!"

The shout rung out like a flock of birds as it came whipping through the trees. When the voice gave way to a face, everyone found their smiles growing and their shoulders dropping. The threat standing before them was no more than an old man of the forest, and one who had clearly left his mind at home. Tormora let her arm hang down in disappoint, but awoke from her dissatisfied state when Thorin spoke up with amusement. "Another wizard."

To Tormora, this man did not look like a Man at all. He was one with the trees as bark trickled down his leg and descended into his slippers. Every piece of brown fabric on him had over one hundred loose threads gnawed on my animals and insects. His stockings were displayed from the bottom of his coat, revealing holes where there should have been fabric. Sticks and weeds sprouted from his pockets, and it was difficult not to imagine actual soil lining the insides. His face was kind, though flustered, and decorated with long, grey hair on his head and chin. He cared little about his appearance, making him at one with the aging trees around him.

"He cannot be a Wizard." Tormora scoffed, eyeing the strange man. He was much shorter than Gandalf, and only a few inches above her. It was obvious that he had not washed himself in many months, and that his hair was turning itself into a birds-nest as excrement seeped from beneath his hat. Despite these facts, he looked entirely harmless, and Tormora found her curiosity rising.

"Radagast!" Gandalf exclaimed to everyone's surprise. "Radagast the Brown! What on Earth are you doing here?"

"It's true, then. Another Wizard is standing before me." Tormora found herself shocked to the core with the idea. There were five known Wizards in Middle-Earth, and she had been fortunate enough to meet two of them. Radagast was as fascinating as they came, and she was unafraid to voice her opinion. "He's pure brilliance." Thorin curiously glanced towards Tormora to make sure that her statement was not a jest. Her eyes held exuberance when she looked upon the Wizard, and Thorin tried to restrain a laugh from errupting.

"I was looking for you, Gandalf!" The feathery elder struggled to catch his breath. His eyes were naturally wild, but they suddenly possessed something worse than mental chaos. They possessed fear. "Something's wrong! Something's terribly wrong!"

Bofur inched closer towards Tormora to whisper in her ear. "You don't think he'll ever come out with it, do you?" Tormora nudged her friend with a giggle. She might have joined in on the mockery, but she was too curious with Radagast's state of distress.

"Yes?" Gandalf implored. "What is it?"

Everyone grew quiet to hear what the Brown Wizard had to say. They watched as he repeatedly opened and closed his mouth with the struggle to find proper words. "Oh, just give me a minute!" He groaned loudly. "Um… Oh! I've had a thought and now I've lost it!"

Bofur raised his bushy brows. "I don't think that's all he's lost." He gestured subtly towards his brain, and Tormora found it difficult not to suppress her laughter as she nudged him harder.

"He wears a similar hat to you," she whispered. "You may not be quite so different after all, so you'd be wise to watch what you say."

"It was right there!" Radagast cried in dismay, taking them all by surprise. "On the tip of my tongue!" Suddenly, Radagast began to speak in an awkward voice with the curling of his tongue. "Oh! It's not a thought at all. It's a silly old…" Gandalf, having had enough games for one day, reached into Radagast's mouth and pulled the issue out of it. "Stick insect!"

Everyone watched in horror as a spindly creature made its way into Gandalf's palm. Nori shook his head in disbelief. "I know we're not the cleanest of people, but… I can't say we'd go that far."

Gandalf was the only one who seemingly knew how to handle such an odd man. As the two walked away to a more secluded area, Tormora could not help but try to listen in. "What do you think they're discussing?"

"Whatever it is, it doesn't look very good," Bofur responded as he twisted the ends of his mustache between his fingers. "He's clearly flustered about something, but that may just be his natural state of being."

Thorin often had a counter-argument prepared, but he found himself agreeing with the pair of them. "This Wizard would not have left his home in the woods for no ordinary reason. Gandalf does not look entirely at ease himself."

"Surely it's nothing," Bilbo said as he overheard their comments. "If we were in any real danger, Gandalf would have sensed it by now. Wouldn't he?"

Thorin was unafraid to shoot a glance of disapproval in the direction of the Hobbit. "Gandalf may be one of the five Wizards, but he is still man. He cannot foresee the future any more than the lot of us." Clearly these were not the words Bilbo wanted to hear as his shoulders shriveled up nervously towards his ears. Tormora let her hand rest gently on his shoulder to offer minor comfort.

When she redirected her gaze to the duo, she watched as the inhaled a puff of Old Toby. Everyone else tried to put their minds at ease, but they were finding it difficult after such a rough morning.

So the distant sound of a howl was the last thing they wished to hear.

Turning around defensively, each Dwarf faced the direction of the call. Bilbo was unafraid to ask the question on everyone's mind. "Was that a wolf?" No one answered him directly. "Are there… are there wolves out here?"

"Wolves?" Bofur said with a gulp. "No, that is not a wolf!"

Before anyone could properly arm themselves, a large beast made its appearance from a nearby crag. Tormora could hardly catch sight of it as she let out a scream. The animal pounced easily onto Oin, its teeth bared like a hundred knives constantly at the ready. Thorin, being the closest, quickly swung his Elvish sword down upon the terrible creature. It died instantly, but was quickly followed by another. Kili was swift with his bow to take aim at the new arrival. It tumbled down the hill instantly with Kili's first shot. The arrow was not enough to kill him, and Tormora knew that they had to act quickly before it decided to make lunch of them all. "Dwalin!" She shouted, tossing her sword towards the hefty Dwarf. He caught it smoothly, bringing it firmly into the stomach of their attacker.

"Warg-Scouts!" Thorin shouted into the open. The dog-like animal bled out before them, but even a dead one was enough to frighten their spirits away. Thorin began to put the pieces together as the rest of the Company stared in awe at the deceased monster. "Which means an Orc pack is not far behind."

Bilbo was quick to express his fear. "Orc pack?" He asked incredulously. Tormora could practically read his subtext in thin air: Haven't we had enough taunting for one day?

Gandalf was perhaps the most flustered of all, but the Dwarves did not realize this until he came marching up to Thorin. Tormora tried to get in the way, but the Wizard was swift and made it clear that this was no time for hesitation. "Who did you tell about your quest beyond your kin?"

Thorin looked appalled by the sheer suggestion. Feeling belittled and unsure of himself, he looked towards Tormora. However, her eyes were lost as they stared at the deceased Wargs, and he found himself without any mental support. "No one!"

"Who did you tell?"

"No one! I swear!" The anger that Thorin kept securely within his soul was unleashed. "What in Durin's name is going on?"

"You are being hunted." His eyes immediately shot towards Bilbo as he worried for the young Hobbit. He then faced Tormora, who was struggling to find conscious thought in the midst of everything. "Tormora, how is your head from this morning? We must move quickly."

"I-I feel well," she struggled to respond. "I have been through worse. What matters most is our safety and I shall keep my ground should the situation call for it."

"Of course the situation calls for it!" Thorin shouted back with frustration, his black hair flipping wildly as he spun to face her. "The last thing I want is for you to fall behind!" Unfortunately, Tormora had little time to make sense of the feelings erupting through her in response Thorin's affectionate outburst.

"We have to get out of here!" Dwalin cried desperately, recapturing everyone's attention.

"We can't!" Ori cried desperately. "We've got no ponies! They bolted."

Thorin was running numerous scenarios through his mind. If they could get to the treetops, they would be able to steal some time. But the trees in the Trollshaw were high and unsuitable for climbing. Particularly for a few larger members of his group. They could have put up a fair fight, but even Thorin knew that would result in a suicide mission. There were too many people within his Company that he cared for; all of them in fact, including the strange Hobbit. That was just something he struggled to admit aloud.

"I'll draw them off."

Everyone paused to look at Radagast the Brown. His nobility came through without a flicker of reluctance. Tormora couldn't help but give a weary smile; if he was not a noble Wizard at first glance, he certainly was then. "These are Gundabad Wargs," Gandalf explained with a huff of aggression. "They will outrun you!"

Radagast scoffed as if it were dust on leather. "These are Rhosgobel Rabbits!" A cheeky smile peeked out from behind his beard as the plan became solidified. "I'd like to see them try."

Gandalf hesitated for a moment, glancing from the Rabbits and back to Radagast. "Well, it seems as if there is no other option." Turning his back on his friend, he addressed the company. "Prepare your armor, but do not have it in your grasp. We do not fight unless we need to, but we must be quick!"

"If we're not fighting…" Dori muttered. "Then what are we to do?"

Tormora locked eyes with the Grey Wizard. His light eyes expressed to her his plan without a single word falling from his lips. With a whisper of determination, she let the group know of their next move.

"We run."

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Straight through the woods lied an open field of deserted rocks and boulders. They were spread out across the valley, making it difficult for the Company members to find a decent hiding spot. Everyone found it difficult to run with the weight of their supplies and the pounding of their hearts. Radagast had drawn off the oncoming Wargs quickly enough for them to make their way into the field, but moving from one place to the next was bound to be troublesome.

At they ducked behind the first boulder, Tormora pressed herself between Bombur and Nori. Nori's eyes stared ahead at nothing, both of his hands prepared on the hilt of his daggers. Bombur was sweating profusely, but Tormora didn't blame him. Underneath her layers, she was doing exactly the same.

From the distance, the howling of Wargs and the growling of Orcs echoed in the atmosphere. It rung out in a language unknown, but bore the intonations of fury. Even Radagast's shrill voice could be heard as he whipped his Rabbits into full speed. "Come and get me! Haha!"

Gandalf, sensing an opportune moment, peeked his tall head upwards. Thorin followed the gesture and took note of the Orcs making their way over a knoll. "Come on!" Gandalf whispered sharply to the others.

The Company rushed across the rocky terrain, being sure to keep their heavy feet as light as possible. Tormora was swifter than the others with her slender frame, and found herself at the head of the group before they could blink. She brushed past Gandalf in a blur, making a safe haven behind another stone. "Stay together!" Gandalf shouted after the men who were falling behind.

Thorin's demands were slightly less considerate. "Move!"

As their tracks disappeared, Tormora crept low towards Bilbo. Together, they watched from the side as Radagast drove his sled past an overhanging rock. The Brown Wizard made it out safely due to his small frame. The Orc behind him was not as lucky, and fell onto the ground as his Warg continued the chase without him.

"Well," Tormora grumbled. "At least there is one less Orc to worry about."

Seeing that things were taking a turn for the best, Ori took his chance with fate and bolted into the open. The fear in Thorin's voice startled them all as he called out. "Ori, no! Come back!"

Tormora looked up at the Company's leader, shocked to see panic and frustration etched within every wrinkle. His blue eyes were suddenly filled with ice as he struggled to forgive his ignorant members. She knew it was not the proper time, but part of her longed to soothe him. To offer him an embrace and the gentle stroking of his hair. He would need it sooner or later.

Because, truthfully, Tormora had already deciphered where they were headed. The pathway to Rivendell couldn't have been more clear. Gandalf was heading towards one of the many secret tunnels leading to Imladris, and Thorin would not be pleased to realize this. Tormora had taken such trails herself when times were unsteady, and she was grateful they were headed towards such a safe spot.

"Come on!" Gandalf ordered as the coast became clear again. "Quick!"

Tormora watched as Thorin hesitated to move. She saw the look on his face as he physically stopped himself to get a better understanding of his surroundings. "Where are you leading us?" His eyes dug daggers into Gandalf's face as he began to put the pieces together.

Gandalf did not take the time to answer. Tormora, fearing their safety, snatched Thorin's upper arm and drug him across the open field. She was surprised when he moved her hand into his own. He kept her close as they were the last to make their way into the open. Like he had said before, losing her was not on his agenda.

Safety did not last long as the sound of claws began to scratch the rock above them. The breath of a Warg rained hot air down upon them, and Tormora found her courage flickering out like a flame. If there was one thing that frightened her more than the Elvenking, it was Orcs. Thorin held the same distaste. Her nails dug themselves into the flesh of his palm, fearful of what would happen next, but comforted by his presence. Instead of pushing her away, her pressed his hand tightly against hers. If his mind hadn't been so cluttered, he may have even pulled her lips onto his own.

Thorin knew time was limited. He gave his nephew a firm nod and waited for the next move. As Kili bared his image from beneath the rock, he sent an unforgiving shot straight through the Warg's heart. Everyone retreated in shock as the monstrous beast, easily double their size, crashed to their level with dead eyes. However, the Warg's rider had defied Death, and was suddenly heading straight towards them. Everyone drew their weapons and attacked at once. It became difficult to see just who finished the deed, but what mattered was that their cover was blown by the Orc's desperate cries.

"The Dwarf-scum are over there!" The pack leader, Yazneg, declared with hatred dripping off every syllable. His hideous face scrunched itself up into an even more unpleasant expression. "After them!"

Radagast was no longer their main target, and all the Company could do was be swift on their feet. Their weapons would be nearly useless against the Wargs, and they were already wary from the day's previous events. "Move! Run!" Gandalf ordered.

The only spot before them was a dip in the hills. As they stared upwards at the surrounding Orcs, they found little redemption in their enemies' eyes. "There they are!" Gloin called out desperately.

"This way!" Gandalf urged as he continued south. "Quickly!"

He knew exactly what he was doing, as did Tormora. She followed him without a second thought, but the others were not so quick to adjust. They all continued to stare up ahead at the rising numbers of threats. "There's more coming!" Kili cried as shakily he held his arrow about before him.

Thorin shouted back angrily. "Kili! Shoot them!"

Gandalf and Tormora were too lost in their own thoughts to take note of the others and their procrastination. They both saw the rock ahead of them and knew where it led. Tormora jumped down the chute without pause, waiting for the Wizard to join her. Afterwards, they waited in silence for the others, but no bodies joined them.

"A rather slow bunch," Gandalf grumbled in the darkness.

From above, the hidden duo could hear the younger Dwarves growing desperate. "We're surrounded!" Fili cried out in dismay.

Kili began to shoot at the Wargs, managing to knock a few from their positions. It was not enough, and they remained trapped. "Where is Gandalf?" Kili questioned desperately. "And Tormora?"

"He's abandoned us, and she along with him!" Dwalin called out, unsurprised that he could not trust anyone but his kin. He was surprised by Tormora's disappearance, and even offended, as it did not seem in her nature. Looking for reassurance, he turned to Thorin.

The exiled King was too flustered to take notice. If they were left alone, they were going to fight until their last breath. This was not the end he pictured for himself, but he would die nobly whenever the time was right. He called out to the others with as much pride in his voice as he could manage. "Hold your ground!"

Tormora and Gandalf were listening all the while. The muddy slide before them threatened their chance to arise from behind the rock, but Gandalf managed to scramble upwards with his long frame. Tormora clasped her hands together nervously, longing for her friends to safely escape. "This way!" Gandalf shouted in annoyance. Everyone's head turned to him, pleased to see that the Wizard and Tormora had not given up so quickly. "You fools!"

"Come on, move quickly!" Thorin began to push his men in Gandalf's direction as the Wargs drew near. If anyone was going to be targeted, the exiled King would sacrifice himself. "All of you! Go, go, go!"

The Wargs were only feet away from them as the others slid down the hole in the Earth. One by one, the Dwarves and Hobbit made their way to safer ground. Only Kili and Thorin were left, but that was the furthest thing from acceptable. As each second passed without a sign, Tormora could feel the bony hand of Death gripping itself around her heart. "Thorin?" She called out, unafraid of making her voice heard. No answer came. "Where is he?" She pleaded with fate, but received only silence. Without a logical thought, she sprinted up towards the top of the chute. Her feet stumbled beneath her sturdy frame as she tried to claw her way back up. Everyone saw her sudden and panic and reached out for her in an attempt to pull her back.

"Tormora!" Bofur screamed as he grabbed onto her legs. "Don't!"

"We have to!" She called out desperately. "He would never have left me!" Despite her fatigued state, she attempted to kick Bofur away from her. The others managed to pull her back as Dwalin wrapped his large arms around her waist. She kicked and cried in desperation, but his grip would not lessen.

She spun around in his arms, beating at his chest meanwhile. It was only a whispered voice that managed to soothe her. "Tormora. Sul ghelekh barkûr ra turg (All is well with axe and beard/everything is fine)."

Dwalin's grip on Tormora retracted as Thorin's voice demonstrated his safety. Tormora spun around with wide eyes, surprised and embarrassed to see Thorin standing before her without a scratch on his body. His eyes were drooping, but she could sense a pull coming from him that she was unable to resist. Kili watched the scene unfold him with a heaving chest, slightly bitter about not recieving such a warm welcome.

Tormora bit her bottom lip as the rest of the world folded away from her. Now that they were safe, memories of Thorin's protective nature stabbed her heart with affection. Emotions that she had once disconnected from her soul were getting the better of her. Hopping over the dead Orc at her feet, she let her body meet with Thorin's. Her shaking arms found their way around his neck, trapping him into an embrace that had been due for nearly a century.

Thorin looked uncomfortably at the rest of his Company, though his heart was ripping at his ribs and daring to leave him. The others tried to suppress their laughter, and Dwalin's cheeky wink nearly sent the King into a rampage. Ignoring their mockery, Thorin let his hands slide gently over her back, giving her a gentle squeeze to remind her exactly where she was.

Letting him loose built up an empty wall around Tormora's heart. His presence clung to her like clothing and the heat of his flesh continued to sting her own. A craving for solitude overcame her; she wanted nothing more than to be alone with him. She tried to deny its existence, but she was certain that the pounding of his heart had increased tenfold when her hands fell upon him.

Thorin, trying to readjust to his present situation, bent down to take a closer look at the Orc. He had not been the one to kill it, and the arrow that stuck into his chest was not of Dwarvish design. As he plucked it from the bloody, rotting flesh, his own face curled in disgust. "Elves." He tossed the metal wearily to the floor. Truthfully, he just wanted to be somewhere alone with Tormora. Every time danger presented itself, he felt her slip from him. Since their trip had consisted of nothing but trouble, losing her was an actual possibility. He needed to clear the muddled air before it was too late.

Dwalin distracted everyone with his sudden declaration from further ahead. "I cannot see where the pathway leads. Do we follow it, or no?"

Bofur looked towards Tormora, who gave him a simple nod. "Follow it of course!"

"I think that would be wise." Gandalf ushered the Dwarves down the path, leaving Bofur and Tormora alone at the end. Thorin made his way to the front in an attempt to steady his heart. All he could think about was Tormora, despite the desperate and uncomfortable situation they were about to find themselves in. He had spent so long living in an age of war, that when peace presented itself in the form of a woman, he did not allow himself to have it.

Tormora was not entirely better with her thoughts. Her thoughts still lingered on her King, but now it was the Elves who made their way into her mind. It had been decades since she laid eyes upon her Rivendell friends, and she wondered if they would remember her.

Seeing the state of distress that Tormora was in, Bofur inched his way closer. "Is she okay?" He placed his hand to her cheek, smiling the entire time. "Oh, I'm not too sure. This one may just be love-struck."

Tormora took his hand gently in her own. "Bofur, my mind is a heap of ruin."

"No!" He shouted defensively, taking her by the shoulders. "Now, don't go saying that. You get funny ideas in your head and I have to watch them eat away at you." He removed his furry hat and placed it atop her head. She couldn't help but sheepishly smile; he knew how much she loved his cap. "Keep it for a while. It suits you nicely, and truthfully it gives you comfort."

She let her head fall onto his hand. "You give me comfort."

Bofur playfully rolled his eyes and let his arm drape over her shoulder. "Come on, now. It's time for you to be reunited with your silly Elves again."

"Silly?" Tormora laughed softly as they joined the others. "Lord Elrond is twice your size and possesses twice the intelligence."

She let her eyes drift away from Bofur for a moment to face the valley before her. Before catching sight of paradise, she could hear the hundreds of waterfalls tinkering down from he surrounding hills. She could feel the heat of the glorious sun on her skin, daring her to meet its burning, single eye. Turning her head slowly to the left, Tormora let herself drown in a whirlwind of senses.

"The Valley of Imladris," Gandalf smiled with a sigh. Tormora pushed the brim of Bofur's hat upwards to get a better view. "In the Common Tongue, it is known by another name."

Bilbo shook his head in disbelief. "Rivendell."

"Here lies the last Homely House east of the sea," Gandalf further explained.

"Home to Lord Elrond," Tormora finished. "One of the greatest Elves I can claim to know." She turned to face Bilbo, who was still in awe over the towering peaks and the pastel buildings. Ancient arches gestured for the Company to come forth and present themselves. "You will admire him upon first sight, Master Baggins. I guarantee it."

Bilbo let out a chuckle. "I don't doubt it. Since I was a boy, I've wanted to meet an Elf. Suddenly, I find myself surrounded by them and at a loss for words."

"We are not yet surrounded by them," Thorin clarified. "Hopefully we can change that course of our journey." He then turned to Gandalf, who had already prepared himself for a verbal lashing. "This was your plan all along. To seek refuge with our enemy."

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. The only ill-will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself." Tormora couldn't have stated it more clearly. She knew that Thorin bore a strong distaste for Elves, but speaking harmfully of Lord Elrond was not possible with her in earshot.

"You think the Elves will give us their blessing?" Thorin chuckled darkly. "They will try to stop us."

"Of course they will!" Gandalf interjected loudly.

Tormora let her own voice be heard. "You do not trust me, and I have known that from the beginning. However, you must listen to me when I say that these Elves are not the kind to harm us. They will offer us food and shelter as long as we need it." Elves were her area of expertise, and she was not about to let it be so heavily criticized. "My presence will no doubt surprise Lord Elrond into silence. There is no specific need to tell him why we have come to him."

"We have questions that need to be answered," Gandalf agreed. "If we are to be successful, this will need to be handled with tact and respect and no small degree of charm." His foggy eyes glanced down to the female Dwarf, with whom he shared a smile. "Which is why you will leave the talking to Tormora and myself."

Tormora mutually forced a smirk. She had always found it hard to lie to Lord Elrond. In fact, he knew much about her youthful life. He knew about her skills with the sword, about her love of Elvish language and craftsmanship… and about her affections for a certain exiled King. It would be a struggle not to lie about Erebor, but she swore to herself that she would do her best.

Even if her best meant a minor slip of the tongue.

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Please please please review!

I genuinely beg of you.

Also, if Tormora was in the film, who would you cast as her? (: