Chapter Ten

The Thief and The Spy

A/N: NerdyHypsterKady, your latest review made me feel all manner of happy fuzzies, thank you so much! Hope the rest of you are enjoying the story just as much, things are really about to kick off now…

Fili was the first to put a finger to his lips as he and Astra listened, still half-asleep and quite dazed, to the sound of feet slapping on stone. He gestured for Astra to stay down, wrapped one of their blankets around his waist, and cautiously stood up, his resilient Dwarf skin showing no sign of goosebumps.

'Bilbo?'

The Hobbit's gloved hands came frighteningly close to dropping the Arkenstone, having popped it free from its sconce in the King's throne. He flinched to keep it safe in his protected grip and recovered from an almighty gasp.

'What are you doing?' Fili whispered furiously. Bilbo couldn't help but notice his state of undress, and peered around the throne to find Astra sitting up, the rest of the blankets pulled up to her shoulders. She looked neither ashamed nor defiant - simply startled.

'I feel I should ask you the same,' Bilbo whispered back. The silence between them was taut. Astra joined them in standing and stared at the Arkenstone, even more brilliant and hypnotic in the dark.

'What are you going to do with it?'

'I want to use it,' Bilbo said reluctantly, looking over his shoulder in case any phantom listeners were about, 'As a peace offering. Thorin is leading us all into war in a matter of hours. I did not sign my name to the contract for this! I don't wish to deprive him of his birthright, but…do I have a choice? Do any of us?'

'You'll be seen,' whispered Fili, his tone imparting no judgement.

'It's my turn for night watch,' said Bilbo, eyes flickering left and right. 'I won't be seen.' He shifted his feet anxiously before offering up a final bargain: 'If you say nothing…then neither shall I.'

Fili felt Astra's hand interlock with his, while the others held up their respective blankets. He sighed through his nose.

'Do what you must. Thorin needs all the interference of those brave enough to provide it. Just go, and be back before dawn.'

'Thank you,' said Bilbo, a relieved smile appearing on his teeth in the faint moonlight. 'Both of you.'

With that, he took off to the Front Gate, making his steps as light and quiet as he was able. Using the power of his magic ring, and some sturdy rope, Bilbo slowly abseiled down the Front Gate and hopped onto the fallen statue head. He only had so many hours of night left before his absence would become apparent - he wasted no time in starting on the road to Dale.

'I now cannot decide which you should fear more,' said Astra, as she and Fili quietly got dressed, 'An army of Elves, or Thorin's wrath.'

'Well, I have already done something to incur his wrath tonight,' murmured Fili, wrapping an arm around her waist. 'Why stop now?'

Twice Alfrid had stumbled upon Cauna at her eavesdropping station atop the ledge; twice she had put him under a mild spell of forgetfulness and sent him back just the way he'd come. She was tempted to just kill him and have done with it, but that could easily attract unwanted attention and, besides, she wanted to conserve her magic. Just sitting on the ledge for hours in the freezing night was draining her energy, and if she wanted to snatch the Arkenstone and Ring efficiently, she'd need all the power she could afford.

Her vision of the Hobbit sneaking away from the Lonely Mountain, both of the aforementioned objects in tow, had been succeeded not long after by a second, more intense vision: Cauna had seen herself (or rather, herself in Ember's body) radiating white light, aglow with power from head to toe. This vision was unlike any other she had witnessed, and it made her skin prickle with anticipation. She rocked back and forth, eyes on the alert, craving the Arkenstone and the Ring so badly they might as well have been missing limbs.

When she finally glimpsed a head much shorter than any others in the square below, it took everything in her not to leap from the ledge, rip out the Hobbit's heart, and take the precious items from his gloved hands. She took a deep breath and rubbed her fingers together for warmth, mentally rehearsing her strategy one last time.

Negotiations were ongoing, but showed no signs of escaping their dead ends. Gandalf and Bard stood half-in, half-out of the tent, while Thranduil reclined on a high-backed chair, almost indifferent to the proceedings now that he considered his part played.

'You, bowman, do you agree with this?' Gandalf tried yet again. 'Is gold so important to you? For the blood of Dwarves?'

'It will not come to that,' said Bard, fighting a yawn, 'It is a fight they cannot win.'

'That won't stop them.'

The air changed instantly at the presence of a new voice. All three leaders turned to look outside the tent, where Bilbo stood quite out of breath, hair disheveled, and eyes determined above dark rings of tiredness. 'You think the Dwarves will surrender - they won't. They will fight to the death to defend their own.'

'Bilbo Baggins,' said Gandalf, unable to keep a smile from his face. He gestured for Bilbo to come inside the tent, patting his head in a fleeting embrace. 'How glad I am to see you alive and in once piece.'

'Just about,' said Bilbo, wiping sweat from his brow on a sliver of bare wrist between sleeve and glove. 'I ran all the way here.'

He stopped in his tracks upon seeing Thranduil mere feet away. The Elf-lord regarded him with an ambiguous expression.

'If I am not mistaken, this is the Halfling who stole the keys to my dungeon, under the nose of my guards. Clearly your talent for stealth has carried over to the Mountain.'

Bard's mouth spasmed in a stifled laugh. Bilbo stood in the middle of the tent with arms at his sides, unsure of where to look.

'…Y-e-s,' he said through the smallest opening between his lips, 'Sorry about that.' Eager to get to the point, he reached into the breast pocket of his coat and removed what, to the others, looked like nothing more interesting than a large ball of cloth. 'I came to give you this.'

Bilbo deposited it on the map table in the middle of the tent and, with delicacy, unwrapped the many layers of fabric until the glittering Arkenstone was finally revealed beneath. Gandalf dropped the entrance curtains to the tent; Bard let his arms fall to his sides; Thranduil rose from his chair as if bewitched.

'The heart of the Mountain,' he breathed, utterly transfixed. 'The King's jewel.'

'Wait, don't touch it!' Bilbo warned, but too late - Thranduil recoiled with a singed fingertip and looked personally affronted. Gandalf tilted his head and frowned at the Arkenstone.

'How curious. I recall nothing of burns in the tales from Erebor.'

'That's what the Dwarves said when they found it,' said Bilbo, 'And yet here we are. I can't touch it, neither can Astra. It doesn't seem to favour anyone.'

'How is this yours to give?' said Bard, stepping closer.

'I took it as my fourteenth share of the treasure,' said Bilbo, feeling his skin crawl at the thought of Thorin's face come dawn.

'Why would you do this?' said Bard, making no attempt to hide his bafflement. 'You owe us no loyalty.'

'Oh, I'm not doing it for you,' said Bilbo, causing further surprise, 'I know that Dwarves can be obstinant, pig-headed and difficult, suspicious and secretive - with the worst possible manners you can imagine - but they are also brave, and kind, and loyal to a fault. I've grown very fond of them, and I will save them if I can. Thorin values this stone above all else. In exchange for its return, I believe he will give you what you're owed. There will be no need for war. Goodness knows we've had enough horror as it is…'

'What exactly has happened, dear fellow?' asked Gandalf, an ominous tone in his voice. 'The twins - are they safe?'

Bilbo noticed Bard's face fall and sighed heavily.

'Does the name "Cauna" sound at all familiar to you?'

Gandalf gripped his staff with both hands, a shadow tinging his face. 'Our paths have never crossed, but I was present in the aftermath of one ghastly night. The witch Cauna destroyed that family irreparably.'

Bilbo went on to explain, as succinctly as he could, everything that had happened, from Ember's death to Astra's loss of magic. Gandalf listened with grave attention until Bilbo finished speaking.

'What darkness this quest has unleashed,' the wizard said, more to himself than anyone else. '…It is a good thing indeed, Bilbo, that you have taken action to end this war before it begins. I wish to see no more - no more blood shed here. Come,' he said, gesturing to the tent doors, 'I think it is time you had a well-earned rest. I'm sure we can muster some hot food and a bed for you.'

Bilbo gave a weak smile and parted the curtains to leave the tent. Gandalf made to follow, but Thranduil held him back with the lightest touch on the arm.

'There is no guarantee that Thorin Oakenshield's hand will be forced by this admittedly bold move. Whether you desire it or not, Dwarf blood may well be spilled regardless of peacemaking efforts.'

'As may be said of all discussions tonight,' said Gandalf wearily, 'Your opinion is noted.'

'Uh, Gandalf?' came Bilbo's voice from outside the tent. Gandalf pinched the bridge of his nose with fatigue.

'Yes, Bilbo?'

'Could you - uh - come out here, please? Now?'

The quavers of terror in his voice alerted Gandalf to the fact that something was very wrong. He parted the tent curtains. On the other side, surrounded by unconscious Elf Guards, Bilbo struggled to breathe with Cauna's arm locked against his neck. Bard and Thranduil stepped outside and matched Gandalf's stare of horror.

'Forgive me this intrusion,' the witch said dryly, 'But my patience wears thin.'

'How…' Bard gawked. 'How did you - why -'

'Why did I release you from your cell?' Cauna supplied. With a concentrated blink she assumed a much more Ember-like appearance: cheerful red hair and nut-brown eyes. Even her voice became lighter. 'Because someone had to take out that nuisance of a dragon. I had no interest in competition for the Arkenstone, among other things…' She extended her free hand and reverted back to her darker tones. 'Give it to me, unless you would especially like to see Master Baggins's blood droplets decorate these slabs of stone.'

'Why are you doing this?' said Bard. 'The Arkenstone is a Dwarf gem, why go to such trouble to take it for yourself?'

'By all means, waste my time with questions of motive,' said Cauna, 'Each one will earn the Hobbit another inch of neck.'

Bilbo hissed as, with a flick of barely one finger, Cauna drew blood at his collar. Gandalf made wild gestures to Bard with one hand, the other on his staff.

'For goodness' sake, do as she says! This witch has no qualms with murder.'

'I am so heartened my reputation proceeds me,' Cauna grinned. As Bard hastily disappeared into the tent, she looked down at Bilbo and, by whispering in his ear, increased his fright tenfold: 'I know you carry the Ring. Hand it over if you wish to keep your -'

But Cauna never got the chance to say 'head,' as she flew backwards from a shot of light to the chest. More than a few Lake-towners awoke and gathered to watch what was happening as her body smacked into a column and dropped to the ground.

Bard exited the tent as quickly as he'd gone in, the Arkenstone hastily re-wrapped in its layers of cloth. Gandalf stood in front of Bilbo as he scurried to safety.

'Are you all right, my friend?'

'Been better,' said Bilbo, dabbing at his neck with two fingers, 'But fine.'

They watched warily as Cauna pushed herself up with relative ease, stumbling only once after an impact that would have killed any ordinary person. Her manic grin returned, while the darks of her eyes grew darker still.

'Wise. But unimaginative.'

She threw both hands up and muttered some incantation - Gandalf's staff went flying across the square before he had the chance to tighten his hold. As soon as that happened, Cauna sent him crashing backwards into the tent. The sound of breaking table legs and fluttering papers rose from within. Bilbo immediately raced to retrieve Gandalf's staff.

Bard took several steps backwards as the witch fixed her vicious gaze on the Arkenstone in his hands. With running momentum she leapt forward with arms outstretched, as if about to fly, but was promptly thrown off course by another hit from Gandalf. She spun through the air and skidded on her elbows, growling with frustration. By this point, two Elf Guards had managed to break Cauna's spell of sleep and charged at her with swords unsheathed. However, before anyone could say, 'look out!', the witch snapped their necks simultaneously with a quickfire movement of her hands. She met Thranduil's eyes and took malicious pleasure in his seething.

From that point on, anyone who was neither wizard nor witch knew better than to interfere in their skirmish. For some tense minutes the two of them sent forces - visible and invisible - at each other with increasing violence. Gandalf was the more powerful of the two as an Istar, but the trials he had faced at Dol Guldur had sapped much of his strength.

Not that Cauna was unaffected by fatigue of her own - battling such a powerful wizard was a challenge in itself; combined with the magic used to sedate the Elves and the hours spent in the cold, she was bleeding from her nose with effort to stay focused. When it became clear that the two enemies were dodging each other's retaliations too well, they began simply to circle. Cauna smiled even as blood seeped into her teeth.

'Well, I expected more from a duel with the oh-so famous Gandalf the Grey.' She put her concentration into walking straight. 'You do not have it in you to kill me, old man.'

'And why is that?' Gandalf replied from the other side of the square.

'Because your heart is soft. My face is her face. You see part of Ember in me and cannot bear to destroy it.'

'For you to possess her,' said Gandalf, coming to a halt by the tent from where he began, 'She must surely be dead.'

'And yet you hesitate,' Cauna retorted, mirroring him. 'That is the difference between you and me, old fool. You take no risks. Not when it comes to the so-called "innocent".'

She waited for him to begin defending his reputation, but Gandalf said nothing. Instead, he leveled his gaze with her and gripped his staff until his knuckles turned white. Suddenly Cauna lost face as she found herself unable to move her arms - they were pinned to her sides as if in a giant vice.

'What are you doing? What - no,' she whispered as Gandalf held his staff horizontally above his head, one hand at each end. For the first and only time, Bilbo saw the witch look scared. 'NO!' she screamed, knees buckling and eyes screwing shut. 'NO, YOU CANNOT!'

'I can, I will, and I must,' Gandalf said grimly, 'For Ember's sake.'

The Lake-towners, Bard, Thranduil and Bilbo then witnessed something both extraordinary and disturbing: Gandalf was physically drawing out Cauna's spirit, separating ghost from body. Bilbo wanted deeply to look away but, with a kind of morbid fascination, found himself unable to. At last he saw Cauna's true appearance, the woman who had terrorized Ember and Astra for so long. Her face was thin, bordering on skeletal, and her hair was wild and black, exactly as her eyes were. Her ghoulish arms grappled at air as she was pulled away from Ember's body and towards Gandalf.

'I will - not - surrender!' Cauna screeched, but there was no returning from this spell. With a last cry that rang hollow into the night, her immaterial form hit the staff and was severed. Like smoke through an open window, Cauna was suddenly, and completely, gone.

Bilbo panted with shock in the ensuing silence. Gandalf lowered his staff. They all continued to stare at the middle of the square, for now, the only person standing there was Ember, without mask or possession.

It was recognizably and horribly her, as her skin was the colour of ash, interrupted by severe red burns in a hundred places. She swayed on her feet, mouth open long enough for a single gasp to escape before she collapsed onto the stone.

Though painfully exhausted, Gandalf was the first to rush to her side. Bilbo followed quickly; Bard and Thranduil stepped hesitantly forward, whilst the Lake-towners lingered at the edges. Most walked away in shock and awe at what they'd seen.

'Ember! Ember, look up, can you - oh no,' whispered Gandalf, as he turned her onto her back. Up close, Bilbo realised that she was left in the exact position as when the molten gold drowned her: beneath grey and bloody skin, her veins were chalked with yellow, to the point of suffocation. Gandalf tried lifting her head as she struggled to breathe, but it was no use - the most she could do was choke out what sounded like, 'I…' followed by a splutter of golden dust from her saturated lungs. Bilbo fell to his knees and saw the world blur at the edges of his eyes as Ember's eyelids fell shut, her muscles still.

'No, Gandalf…you must do something! Anything. Is there no spell, no enchantment that can bring her back?'

The old wizard looked up with tears brewing in his eyes and gave a helpless shrug.

'I cannot do that, dear Bilbo. Not without stirring up immense evil in consequence…She is gone.' He brought her head to his chest and cradled her body as if she'd fallen asleep. A tear fell from his face and ran down her singed hair. 'I have failed her. Her sister. And Isolda. I have failed.'

Bilbo's bottom lip quivered uncontrollably as he tasted salt. He reached out a hand, took up Ember's limp one, and kissed it farewell, as much as he hated to do it.

Bard sniffed audibly and looked skywards, feeling his throat tighten. 'We should bring her inside,' he said, gesturing to the tent, 'Before too many people grow anxious about what they've seen.'

Gandalf nodded, eventually allowing Bard to take Ember's body under the back and knees and carry her away from the scene.

'Gandalf,' said Bilbo, a hand stretching to reach the wizard's shoulder, 'Do not blame yourself. You just saved us all.'

'It is my fault they are on this quest. Without us, they would be safe at home, protected.'

'You could not have possibly predicted any of this,' said Bilbo, adding, 'Even as a wizard.'

'One point still eludes my understanding,' Thranduil said from his chair, deep in somber thought, 'What use would a lone witch have for the Arkenstone?'

'In truth, I do not know,' said Gandalf, head in hands. 'With the changing behaviour of this gem, it may well possess powers we are not aware of. But without access to a library, I can confirm nothing.'

Ember's body had been placed on the rugs in the middle of the tent, where the broken table had been. Her arms were folded over her chest and, despite the angry burn patches on her skin, she looked peaceful. Bilbo stared at her with crossed arms.

'I can't believe Thorin allowed this to happen.'

'All the more reason to force a truce out of him using the Arkenstone,' said Bard.

'I agree,' said Gandalf. 'I refuse to let that Dwarf spill any more innocent blood in the name of his pride. Bilbo, your actions may prevent further fatalities yet.'

A/N: FYI, I spent a lot of this chapter listening to the Eurovision soundtrack and it was very weird and now I have more emotions than I know what to do with. All I'll say is follow me, follow this story, leave a review, and go watch the Eurovision highlights if you didn't see it live!