I do not own the Hobbit.

Ten raids later and fifteen trips to the Wolf's cave had Azog's chosen Orcs allowed to frolic a bit with the growing White DireWolf pups. As for the mother herself, she would allow no one to lay a hand or even to come near her except for Azog himself. That fact and the fact that they were slowly becoming accepted by the wolves provided Azog with the beginning of the leverage he needed to take over the group. The respect that he had gained by having the massive mother DireWolf's trust and the respect that he was earning by being both a wise and ruthless leader was undermining the respect that these warriors had for their Chief. For while the Chief did lead raids, it was not the dangerous and extensive raids that Azog led which not only challenged that abilities of the Orc warriors but even they began to realize that the work that they were putting into getting the raids done, were making them to more effective and powerful Orc Warriors. Azog was training them in the field thus putting into use the Orc saying 'Battle is the best Trainer.'

But Azog would not fool himself into thinking that the Chief would be blind to his doings, even as he and his warriors hauled another kill to the Wolf's cave. The dark nose of the Mother Wolf stuck out the cave and Azog's breath caught in his throat the way it did every time he saw the Wolf glide out the cave mouth, it's powerful muscles moving fluidly under thick fur. She came to kill that was set before her, sniffed at it politely and then nodded to them. She gave a low long growl and her pups ran out, bounding across the snow to the waiting orcs. The wolf pups, while being just half their mother's height, sill reached to his warrior's chests. The mother, after all, towered over Azog when she stood at her full height. Azog stood aside with the mother; both looking on at the creatures that they were fostering. And when on Orc was tripped by a wolf pup and they both fell into the snow with a shout and a growl, Azog and Mother responded with a louder shout and growl. They both started and then looked at each other. There was a tense moment and then the Mother Wolf snorted icy air and Azog huffed back. Suddenly a movement caught his eye and he snapped his head around in time to see an Orc darting away. He growled to himself; the Chief had found him out. He felt the presence of the Wolf looming over him and turned to see her sniffing the air in the direction that he was looking. She looked down at him and he caught her meaning.

'It that one of yours?" She looked towards his group. He did not look towards his group but back in the direction of the fleeing Orc and growled again but more menacingly. He saw his Orcs stop what they were doing and look towards him. The Mother Wolf snorted hard and then with a short bark her pups were heading back into the cave. Azog turned to his Orcs.

"We need to get back to camp," he snapped, "Pack our haul and get moving."

The fact they obeyed without a single question, albeit with a few looks in his direction as they did, made Azog sure that their loyalty was now being bound to him. He hid a grin as he packed his own haul, slung it onto his back and began the trek back to camp. He had a feeling he knew what he was going to expect when he got there and it wasn't going to be anything good.

When they got back to camp, Azog could almost taste the tension in the air. He and his Orcs laid the haul in the usual corner pile and went to unarmor. His Orcs did a good show of not showing that they were aware of anything amiss but he noted the wariness in their movements and knew that they were prepared for a fight if it came to that. He, himself was preparing for an attack from the Chief's warriors. He did not expect the words that came next.

"Azog," the chief said, "I have a task for you." Azog turned and face his Chief with a slight bow of his head.

"What is it that you want me to do?" he asked.

"A scout of mine has discovered a Cave in some hills not far from here," the Chief continued looking him right in the eye, "A cave with DireWolves. It holds a mother and pups; almost full grown. I would like take a group and go capture the Beast; the mother and bring her to me. She would do fine to start off our rebuilding of our Mounted Squad."

Azog froze for all of half a second. In that half a second he saw his weeks of long work to cultivate trust and loyalty between the Orcs and the DireWolves, go down the river. If he let this plan be carried out he would lose the DireWolves completely, not to mention the fragile respect of his Orcs. But he could see no way to forestall the Chief's plan without seeming foolish and unpractical. After all; if he had not been the one cultivating the DireWolves, then he might have done the same thing. Capture the Mother, break her and her pups will follow her lead. He growled to himself and bowed his head. He could hear the sharp but soft intakes of breath by his Orcs behind him, but still they said nothing. He breathed a little easier. Maybe their respect ran much deep than he had imagined.

"As you wish," Azog said and noted the slight look of surprise in the Chief's eyes before it turned harder and ugly, "How many do you wish to send to capture this DireWolf?"

"Take your group of fifteen and my group of twenty," the Chief said after seeming to muse for a bit, "DireWolves are fierce and I don't want her harmed too much."

Azog bowed his head again. Of course the Chief would outnumber them and most likely to send a scout behind and ahead of them as well. And of course he would send Azog's entire group; the Chief wanted them to see their Wolves be taken away from them. It was lesson in defiance. But Azog would not be the one learning that lesson. The Wolves were his and none would take them from him. As the Chief ordered them to move out immediately; another good strategy so that Azog and his Orcs to have little or no time to plan any counter measures, Azog already had a plan in mind. It may be too soon and it may be too rash, but he had no choice. He would have to count on the respect of both his Orcs and the mother DireWolf for this to work. He hoped that it would but was just as sure that it would not.

They took leave at once and set a brisk pace to the DireWolf's cave with Azog at the head and his Orc's dispersed between the Chief's twenty. Halfway there a low Orc whistle sounded and Azog slowed the pace. It was one of the scouts. The Orc dropped down with a bundle that thudded dully and scatted thick red liquid. Azog smelled man blood and held back the growl. His plan, which was already a bit threadbare, was now deteriorating rapidly. He cursed the Chief in the foulest of their Black Tongue and then gestured to the bag.

"A man child," he both asked and stated, "What is the plan?" The Orc scout sneered a smile.

"Didn't the chief fill you in?" he asked, his voice dripping with false surprise, "The man child is bait for the Wolf. And you are to present it as a gift to it and then we shall launch the ambush."

Azog barely held back the growl. The Mother DireWolf would not accept something that was so blatantly bait. And the fact that he would be the one bearing the bait would shatter whatever trust he had managed to build with her. The Scout held the bag out the Azog. Azog took the bag, flung it over his shoulder and ignored the thick, cold drip that hit his skin as he walked. The fact that the blood was still dripping meant one of two things; the man child had been killed recently or that the man child was alive and just bound securely within the bag. Azog was busy making modifications to his plan when the third possibility hit him. He snarled under his breath and took the opportunity of changing which shoulder the bag was drapped over to cast a sly look behind him. There was a trail of course behind them, but worst the blood was mingling in the snow. A trap. The Chief was setting them up for a man ambush as well. The child was alive in the bag he was carrying. The Scount had not had any blood on him and thus had most likely dragged the bag along the ground, laying out a nice trail for the angry Men to follow. The Chief had played well. If Azog decided to fight, his Orcs were outnumbered. If they did not, Azog bearing the bait would make sure that the DireWolf would not trust him. If they managed to get out of the first two traps; then they would still have to deal with the Men. Azog felt his heart sink; too many traps and not enough of a plan to get out. But he had no choice. He would have to go through with the plan he made.

They were but a few minutes from the DireWolf's cave when he caught the faint but unmistakable scent of Men. He sniffed the air and flexed his left hand twice. The sign was one that only his Orcs knew. It signaled for them to prepare to fight. He heard the soft growls of response. He knew his Orcs by sound and knew when the chief's Orcs had growled. It was probably their signal for readiness. Azog kept moving forward appearing to have noticed nothing. He led them down the path that lead to the point furthest away from Cave. He nodded to the Chief's Head Orc and together they put together an ambush plan. Azog was to go to the Cave and lay the 'gift' out, while the others formed a rough double semi-circle in order to jump the DireWolf. The scent of Men was wafting down stronger now but Azog ignored it. It was too late to try and do anything about that. If his plan succeeded then maybe he and some of his Orcs would survive. They would deal with the Men after.

Azog nodded in agreement with the Chief's Head Orcs and then he looked at his Orcs and tilted his head to his right. He saw the ghost of smiles flicker across his Orcs faces. They knew what he meant. They had seen him 'negotiate' with men before, seen him talk to them with a low trusting voice with his head titled to right; just before he gave the order to slaughter them. So with their slight bows of acknowledgment; left him to wait for their signal. Azog noted the direction of the Chief's Head Orc and picked up the bag. He took several deep breaths and walk boldly up the DireWolf's Cave.

She could see him, he could tell as he stood in front of her Cave. He unslung the bag and set it beside him. Then he waited. She kept him waiting for a long time before he saw a glow like two bright diamond in the shadows of the Cave. Then like a shadow herself, the Mother Wolf's head slid out of the darkness. When her ears had cleared the Cave mouth, she gave him a silent snarl; baring her large teeth and eyeing the bag. She took one good sniff and then snorted back at him; her breath frosting heavily in the air. He knew she had scented the man child's blood and the Orcs and the Men behind them. She growled this time, but not the ones that he was used to but a menacing one. And Azog threw his plan into action. He lifted the bag and held it in front of him for a few seconds then he tossed it in the direction of the Chief's Head Orc. He saw the Mother's Wolf's eyes follow the throw and then fixate on him. He began to step back when the Chief's Head Orc stepped out and cut open the bag, tumbling out the man child. Azog saw he indeed was still alive, pierce through with a number of small knives that would have jolted while he was being carried ensuring the blood flow. Azog admired the child's will to survive. The Chief's Head Orc snarled at Azog, whipped out his sword and stabbed it into the child's chest. A small sharp scream sounded followed by a horrified and angry shout from somewhere behind them. Azog didn't waste his time, he shouted for his Orcs and leapt for the Chief's Head Orc.

Azog saw the DireWolf duck back into her Cave, as his blade stuck against the Chief's Head Orc. He growled and pushed hard against the Orc, rocking him back. The orc stumbled a ew steps then drove back at him. Azog blocked his downward swing and kicked out at his stomach. The Orc stepped back quickly and followed with three large swipes at him. Azog parried each, feigning weakness with each parry. The Chief's Orc grinned and kicked at him. Azog took the hit, rolling over onto his back. His opponent fell for the second feint and with a roar flipped his sword downward and stabbed. Azog timed the thrust and dove out of the way, coming to his knees and bringing his own blade up and through. The Chief's Head Orc's arm went flying. He scream and leapt to the side. Azog followed his movement and cut his head off. He took a second to revel in the victory when a burning sensation stuck through his shoulder. He looked to see an arrow head sticking out of his shoulder. He didn't bother to look behind him but ran for cover. He didn't dare run to the Cave but ducked behind some low rocks. He didn't know if they had been surrounded or not and how many of his Orcs were still alive.

He raised his head to get a look when an arrow whizzed by him. He ducked back quickly but felt a hot wetness rool down his face. He reached up and wiped; his black blood was on his fingers. He growled and waited again. He called out in their Black Tongue and heard eight calls responded. He ducked around again and saw the men coming down to the Cave with torches and Sword drawn. Another stuck by him. He assumed that they were going to hunt him out and then take out the Wolves. And then in another quick view, he saw them raising their arms to toss the torches into the Cave.

Something in him snapped and a strange feeling washed over him. At first he did not know what it was and then he recognized it. Many think that Orcs do not fall in love. That is not true. While it is true that Orcs do not love in the way that humans, elves or wizards love but Orcs do love. And this feeling that he was feeling was love; the deep respect that an Orc had for things that he considered powerful, dangerous and willful. All those traits were represented in that Mother Wolf and he could not let her be chased from her home and run into the arms of Men that would kill her and her young ones. As the torches began to leave the hands of the Men, Azog leapt to his feet and with a loud roar, charged them. He was too late.

The torches flew into the Cave and there was a long howl. Azog felt the fear, anger and desperation of the Mother Wolf in that howl. He drove his sword into the first man he reached and kicked him off the blade. He felt the burning piercing of an arrow in his calf but he paid it no mind. He swung to meet the challenges of the other Men that turned to meet him. He beat off the attack of one, flung him into the arms of his fellow Man. He saw one Man move to flank him then a dark blur took off its head as his Orcs attacked from wherever they had been hiding. The arrows were falling along less now as Orcs and Men fought in a tangled mess. Azog felt heat on his right side, but the heat of fire. He turned after biting a Man's neck off to see flames licking out the Cave. He took two steps towards the Cave when with a growl that rumbled his bones and made him feel fear for the first time in years; the Mother Wolf leapt out the Cave. She was a glorious nightmare in deadly white and Azog was lost in the beauty of her destruction as she tore into the remaining men. She whipped around to face him, her muzzle dripping with red, rapidly cooling blood that misted from her fur. Their eyes locked and he lifted his hand to her. She reached out to touch him with her bloodied snout when three arrows struck her in her hind leg. She screamed and with two bound had leapt away from him and toward whoever had shot at her. Azog took a look around and saw that only five of his Orcs remained. He nodded to them and they took off, heading away from the cave. He saw blurry white shapes, moving past them and realized from the shouts and Wolf howls that the Mother Wolf and her pups had found and was making short work of archers.

It was only when he stumbled onto his knees did he realize that he was alone. Somewhere in the haze of running he and his Orcs had separated. He looked around him, but all he could see was white snow. He got to his feet and walked until he could no longer walked. Then he crawled on his hands and knees. Then dragged on his belly. When he was about to just lie and die he saw a light. He forced himself to crawl toward it and saw that it was a small house. Relief washed over him. Fate was favoring him tonight. He crept to the door and dug his broken nails into the wood and hauled himself up. He stood swaying slightly on his feet. He felt for his blade and realized that it was not there. He growled in frustration; he must have dropped it somewhere along the way. He shook his head to clear the dizziness and fog in his mind; he needed to be as clear headed as he could be for what he had to do. He knocked on the door and waited. There was no sound. He pounded again and waited. Soft sounds from the inside reached his ears. He grinned and knocked again.

"Who is it?" a male voice asked. Azog almost laughed with relief.

"Help," he said trying to mimic the human tongue, "Please." There was a brief conversation inside and then the door began to open.

"How badly are you…" the Man began when Azog pushed with all his might into the door. The Man yelped and tried to swing, but Azog was bowed over with the effort of pushing open the door and the swing went over him. Azog dug his heels in and leapt into the man, his face burying into the man's stomach. He and the Man went down. A woman screamed beside them and Azog whipped his arm out in her direction, caught a hand, yanked it to him and bit down. The woman screamed louder. Azog ripped back, tearing out a chuck of her arms. The sweet taste of the blood and flesh coursed like fire though his veins. He tossed her back and easily struck the sword from the Man. He then pulled his head roughly to one side and bit down on the Man's neck, tearing back as he rose. The woman screamed again as her husband gurgled to death. Azog left the Man in his death thrones and tore the woman's neck out next. Then he went back to the man and tore the clothes off the chest and sighed in happiness and relief as he dug into his meal. When he had had his fill off the man, he dragged the woman to one side and contemplating if to cut her up and what to wrap her in to take her on his journey when a soft sound came from one of the rooms in the back. He followed the sound to a small room and flung it open to see a man child. The child screamed at him. Azog smiled down at her.

"Dessert," he muttered as he closed the door behind him.