I'm back! I've been really debating what to do with this story. I kind of got off on a tangent in my original version, and wasn't sure how much to trim it down... etc. Anyway, I'm just going to wing it! I'll keep some of the stuff, and ditch some of it, and we'll see how well it works out. K? Good.

So, here it is - the long awaited update.

The dwarves on the mountain held their breath as Smaug pled for his life. The red dragon seemed to consider it, but its answer was firm and decided. Smaug had never shown mercy, and he would receive none. They gasped as the red dragon killed their foe, and cheered when he disappeared into the water. Bilbo watched silently, and Thorin with ever-growing concern. The latter quickly silenced his exulting company.

"Quiet! Smaug is dead, but now we have another foe."

Bilbo raised his head in indignation. Alana would never hurt them! Then he remembered that the others did not know who the red dragon was, and hesitated. Should he tell them?

"You don't think it knows we're here, do you?" Nori wondered.

Thorin took a moment to answer. He had had the strangest feeling just before Smaug pled for his life, and he was still trying to figure out what happened. In retrospect, it felt like a dark cloud he had carried with him his entire life had been lifted. Every sight was brighter, every sound sweeter. He didn't know it, but he was at last fully freed from the power of the draghonar magic that had long enslaved him, his father, and his grandfather.

"It doesn't matter. If it doesn't know now, it will soon enough."

"I'm fairly certain that it knows." Bilbo said quietly. Thorin nodded, but did not question the hobbit. They had learned in Mirkwood that there was a great deal more to Bilbo that what met the eye.

"It can't be worse than Smaug..." Gloin volunteered, trying to be optimistic.

"It defeated Smaug. That means it is stronger and more powerful." Thorin countered grimly.

"Now, just a minute!" Bilbo cut in, deciding that this nonsense had gone on long enough. But he, in turn, was cut off by a roar from the dragon.

They looked up to see it staring at the mountain, its face laden with worry. It beat its wings hard and rose in the sky, then soared toward the mountain at an amazing rate.

"Get to shelter!" Thorin shouted, afraid that they had survived the wrath of one dragon only to fall before the fire of another.

"No, you've got the wrong idea!" Bilbo protested again. "She's not going to hurt us!"

None of the dwarves heard him. Bilbo sighed, and stayed right where he was. It didn't take his friends long to realize that he was not scurrying for cover like the rest of them.

"Bilbo!" Thorin called, as loudly as he dared. "What are you doing? Take cover!"

Bilbo shook his head. Aware that every dwarf was watching him, Bilbo cupped his hands about his mouth. Alana was almost upon the mountain now, and Bilbo knew that she was afraid that Smaug had killed them before flying to lake-town.

"Hey! Over here!"

"Are you mad?" Thorin cried, amazed and dismayed.

Bilbo ignored him. The great red dragon must have heard him, because she instantly wheeled about toward where he stood. They could see her eyes scanning the ground, looking for him. And they could tell when she spotted him. She dove down and landed directly in front of him.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. We're all ok."

Alana wrapped her tail about him and nuzzled him gently. "Are you sure? What happened?"

"I went in after the Arkenstone. I kind of woke him up."

Alana studied him carefully. "He smelt of gold. There was a thin layer of dried gold on many of his scales. Did you lot have anything to do with that?"

"…Yes…"

"What. Happened."

"They came in after me. He chased us all through Erebor, and we made a pool of liquid gold in the hall of the kings. We thought we drowned him in it, but then he came up and said something about revenge… Then he was off to lake-town, with nothing we could do to stop him." Bilbo raised a worried gaze to the wise eyes of the dragon holding him. "Was anyone hurt? Is the town alright?"

Alana studied him gravely. "None of the lakemen were hurt. The town still stands, though I believe I smashed a few buildings as I took off."

"Are you hurt?"

"I will heal."

"You're hurt!"

Alan shrugged – which looked strange on a dragon – and released him. "I've seen worse." She paused. "Nothing immediately comes to mind, but I'm sure I've seen worse. I'm just lucky his talons didn't sever a tendon in my leg – then I'd be in trouble."

She threw her head back, stretching her neck. "I've got to move about a bit and cool off, or else I'm going to go all over stiff. Would you get Thorin out here so I can talk to him? I don't feel like doing much right now, and I think I've earned the right to be lazy for a day or so. Only a day or so, of course. Smaug wasn't our last problem. Things move in the dark places of Middle Earth. We'll have to fortify Erebor; but then, I think that Smaug did that pretty well, didn't he? And I'm going to see if I can't track down Gandalf – I have yet to find out where he went and why he wasn't with you in Mirkwood."

Bilbo nodded, and turned to look at the rock formation he knew behind which he knew Thorin was hiding.

"Thorin! Come on, it's Alana!"

Thorin slowly emerged, eight other dwarves peeking out behind him. The chief was staring at Alana unable to believe his eyes and ears. He knew that it must be her – the voice was hers, though it sounded a little different. The eyes were hers, though now they gleamed with her fire. The color of her hair was in her scales, and he saw her dragon necklace hanging about her neck still, though it had grown to fit its bearer.

"You... You are –"

"Amator." She cut him off. "Do you remember nothing that I told you about my people and the draghonar? I said that they still keep our main form, and we are hated and feared because of their crimes. Only Amator have ever killed the blood-drinkers. What can kill a dragon but something of its own form? And even then it is difficult – you saw how I fought him, and you did not see how our magic battled. I know that you were not expecting this, but now that you see my natural form, are you truly surprised?"

Thorin shook his head. "Somehow I am not."

Alana nodded sharply. "Now then, I'm going back to pick up the others and check on my sister's children. Are you coming with or not?"

Thorin was about to answer, and then paused. "Your sister's children?"

Alana turned to look out across the lake. "My sister's children. She loved a mortal man, and stayed behind when the Amator left this world. A number of years ago – fewer here than where I was, I suppose – I felt that she had died. We know when one of our own has gone ahead of us to the great fires of our fathers." She glanced at him. "Sounds like an inviting place, no? But to us it is. Fire is part of us – it cannot harm us." She seemed to make up her mind about something. "And soon it will be unable to harm any of you. But that comes later. For now, I must see that my dwarves and Darnell's children are safe."

"Kili was wounded." Bilbo piped up.

"I know." Alana replied in what was almost a growl. "But I have dealt with the scum that harmed him." Her voice softened. "He owes his life to Legolas and Tauriel. Had they not told me what they learned – the arrow that struck him was tipped with terrible poison – I should never have reached him in time. A few more hours I would have spent in Thranduil's hall, and learned a great many things. Yet the things I might have learned would not have been worth his life. As it was, I reached him before he was too far gone for my skill. He is fully healed now."

She directed her gaze back to Thorin. "Are you coming or not?"

He stepped forward slowly. "I will come."

"Good. You too Bill. You found out first, and kept your head. And I may need to use your ability to pass unseen."

The dwarves all looked at him sharply. They knew that their little burglar had some special skill, as he seemed to always be able to get into and out of places that no one else could, but walking unseen? What did she mean?

Bilbo's gaze snapped to her in turn. "I – how did you –"

"Hobbit feet are not so quiet that I cannot hear them, nor is your scent so easily hidden. And I was still in the mountain when you left it, though you neither saw nor heard me." She answered shortly, then held out a taloned dragon hand. "Here, climb on."

They both did so – Thorin a little hesitantly – and she put them on her back.

"Hold on – it is easiest to fly fast, and I have no strength to spare."

With that, she leapt up into the night.

The worthy people of lake-town began to weep and scream when they saw the red dragon returning. They had no way to know that this dragon was not like Smaug. All they knew was that one dragon had been traded for another, and the second dragon was coming toward them. The dwarves, however, ran to the water's edge. It did not take Alana long to scent them, and she dove down to land beside them. The townspeople were gathered on the shore nearby, and most of them were almost paralyzed with fear. Alana, however, paid them no mind. She would worry about them later. Her dwarves and her sharalm – that is, her sister's children – were her priority at the moment.

The moment she landed, her dwarves were gathered around her.

"Are you alright? Is anyone hurt?"

"We're fine." Kili informed her. "I don't think anyone was hurt, though most are cold and frightened."

Alana nodded, and crouched down so that Thorin and Bilbo could slide off her back. They tumbled down and landed in a tangled heap. She shook her head at them.

"You managed to stay on when I was flying top speed across the lake, and you fall off now?"

Bilbo dusted himself off. "We weren't holding on anymore. You already landed."

She gave him a look, and used her tail to send him sprawling again. Then she turned her great green eyes on Bard and his children. Her playful gaze softened into a gentle look, and suddenly the dragon disappeared. Their startled eyes dropped from where her face had been to the woman who now stood there.

Alana moved forward slowly, and touched the face of each of the children, starting with the youngest. All three of them just stood there, unsure what to do.

When she reached the older girl, they noticed a tear slip down her cheek. She didn't say anything for a moment, then asked, "What is your name, love? How old are you?"

"My name is Sigrid." The girl answered carefully. "I am seventeen."

Alana nodded, her gaze thoughtful. "It will be soon then." She murmured softly. "No, it should already have been. Unless… Perhaps the father's human blood has weakened it." She met the girl's eyes again. "And your siblings?"

Sigrid glanced at her father. His gaze seemed to give her permission.

"Bain is fourteen, and Tilda is eight."

Alana muttered something under her breath, then asked when Bain's birthday was.

"…Two weeks from now."

"It could be any time for him, then." Alana mused to herself. "There is more of his mother about him than in the others. I doubt his father's blood will affect the time of his change."

Bard stepped forward and pulled his daughter away from Alana. He put a protective arm about her shoulders and glared at Alana.

"Here now – what do you mean? What are you talking about?"

Alana returned his gaze calmly. She was very aware of the growing crowd around them, and suddenly turned to the dwarf twins – well, they weren't actually twins, but they acted so alike that she had started calling them that – with a command in her eyes.

"Fi, Ki – these are delicate matters. Make sure we have some privacy, would you?"

The dwarves glanced at each other, and then nodded. They proceeded to yell and command and coax and all-but beg… And finally the crowd of lake-men was far enough removed that they couldn't hear what passed between the strange dragon-woman and the bargeman.

"Tell me what this is about." Bard demanded.

Alana faced him again, as calmly as she had before. "Darnell, your wife and the mother of your children…was my sister."

His eyes widened.

"Never before has there been a union of Amator and one not Amator. I do not know exactly what this means for your children, but this I do know. Your son, at least, shows the symptoms of being what I am. You human blood affected him very little, it would seem. The power of the Amator flows through his veins – and Amator's weaknesses also. It is well that I came when I did, for I shall be able to teach and help him when he comes into his own. Without Amator here to help him, his change should have proved disastrous."

Bard's eyes narrowed. "And what does his age have to do with anything?"

"The change usually occurs at or just before a young one's fifteenth birthday." Alana returned. "The youngest a child has ever changed was eight – but I do not think that will be Tilda's lot. It has only happened so early once."

Bain spoke up suddenly, his eyes fixed on his aunt, his gaze calculating. "You were the one who changed so early, weren't you."

She nodded. "I was. For many years I wondered why. I now know – but it is not important." Alana returned her gaze to her brother-in-law. "Sigrid is already long past the usual time for the change. Her mother's power lies dormant in her. Who knows if it will ever waken? I can feel it, and it has the potential to be very strong. Yet it may also slowly fade away into nothing over the years. As for Tilda, I do not know. There is much of her mother's magic about her, yet the human in her seems dominant. She may yet prove me wrong, but I doubt that she will ever fully change. Amator in first-form she may well be for the rest of her life. There is both benefit and loss in that."

Bard was at a loss for words, clearly unsure how to process this new information. Sigrid was staring at Alana wide-eyed. Bain stood still, seeming to be more or less unsurprised by what he had just heard. Tilda was peeking up at Alana from behind her father's leg, which she was clinging to.

"Then you are our aunt." Bain said softly, the first one to speak.

Alana smiled. "Yes, sharalm, I am your aunt."

"You loved mother very much, didn't you." His voice was still calm, and quiet.

Alana nodded wordlessly.

"You do not seem much surprised, son." Bard managed at last.

Bain shook his head. "I'm not."

"Why?" Sigrid gasped.

Her brother shrugged slightly. "I've always known that I was different from the other boys. And lately, whenever I look at the mountain, I just… I feel the evil inside. I could feel Smaug sleeping, and also feel some other menace. I've never felt such hate toward something. It was strange, I could never explain why I hated Smaug so. The past few weeks I've felt something stirring inside me, like there is another part of me that wants to be set free. And my senses feel different… I can almost smell Dad coming before he gets in the door. I can hear things I don't think I should be able to, and sometimes I even hear voices in my head. They are always talking to each other, never to me, but I can hear them."

At that, Alana jerked. "You hear voices? What do they say?"

"They talk about protecting people, and make plans to kill something called draghonar… Sometimes they talk about new places that they have gone to. Sometimes it's obviously a very private conversation between family members. That's when I try not to listen. I learned that I can block it out if I want to."

Alana was staring at him.

"I heard voices not very long ago, talking about destroying Smaug. The first voice was asking the second voice to come help, and the second voice wasn't able to because it had to destroy draghonar where it was. Does draghonar mean dragon? I assumed that was what it meant after I heard them talk about Smaug, but I wasn't sure. It's very confusing sometimes." He shifted awkwardly under his aunt's gaze.

"Dragon, draghonar - same word, different languages." Alana responded. "Did you hear me speak to Smaug?"

"…Yes…"

"Incredible." She muttered. "Perhaps I was wrong then. Perhaps human blood strengthens, rather than weakening. You have a gift the likes of which I have never heard… It would take incredible power to do what you do. And you have not even changed!" She glanced at the girls. "I now greatly desire to see what will become of your sisters. Perhaps things are not as I thought."

"What is it that I hear?"

"You hear the Amator speaking to each other. We can speak through our minds. The conversation that you heard recently, that spoke of destroying Smaug? I was the first voice. I was calling to one of the others, seeing if he would be able to come help me. I was not confidant that I could handle both Smaug and the dark power that he bore. And I almost was not able to." She added. "But that does not matter; his power may have been great, but mine was greater. Not much, but just enough."

Bain nodded, as though he completely understood. Perhaps he did. Bard, however, looked more and more confused and protective.

"And what do you mean when you say that Bain will soon 'change'?" He challenged worriedly.

Bain looked at his father. "I believe she means that I will turn into a dragon."

Alana shook her head firmly. "No. Draghonar are dark. Amator are light. Dragon and draghonar – they are the same. The Amator are not like them. we will never be like them. They are the fallen ones that prey on the light peoples. We are the true ones, the ones that protect the light peoples. We are the ones that have not abandoned the task we were given at the beginning of the ages. You are not and never will be a dragon, Bain."

This speech was what finally confused the boy. "But… You turned into a dragon…"

Again, Alana shook her head. "No. I took second-form. That is what it is called, sharalm. Dragons – draghonar – are forever trapped in second-form. Amator are not bound to any form, being able to take both first-form, and second-form."

Bain shook his head. "First-form, second-form – what does that mean?"

"First-form is our human-like form. Actually, it is often called human-form. It takes a very skilled eye to distinguish an Amator in first-form from a human. Second-form is our strongest form. It is the form that you would call a dragon. Powerful draghonar can learn to take other forms as well. I have a third form, and I expect that you will as well."

At this, Bain perked up. "What is your third-form?"

Alana grinned suddenly. "Want to see?"

The boy nodded. Bard watched with a guarded expression. Sigrid seemed rather frightened, but Tilda looked curious.

Suddenly the woman was no longer before them. A large cat stood in her place. It was unlike anything that those watching had ever seen before – and not unlike a panther or mountain lion. Such cats abounded in other lands, but not Middle Earth. One world cannot contain all the different kinds of creatures that exist, after all.

Tilda giggled, and tiptoed forward. She put her arms around the cat's neck and began to whisper in her ear. The cat purred, and then a strange sound rumbled from her throat. It seemed to be a cross between a low purr and a very loud meow, and Darnell's husband and children realized that the cat was laughing.

Moments later, the woman was before them again. Tilda still had her arms about her neck, so the child was cradled in Alana's arms.

"We shall see, darling. Though I doubt that his third-form will be quite like mine. We tend to take our extra forms from things that we know."

The eight-year-old wrinkled her nose. "Then will Bain turn into a fish?"

Bain's eyes widened, and Alana choked on sudden laughter. "Probably not. Amator and water do not happily mix. It is very unlikely that a water creature would be his third form. Indeed, if it was a water creature, it would be one that could also make its way on land. Something more like an otter or a beaver. But I have only known one Amator to have such a creature as that for his third-form."

Tilda nodded, apparently satisfied, and Bain looked incredibly relieved. Bard was not so relieved. His face showed only suspicion and ever-growing alarm. For the moment, Alana decided to ignore the fact that her brother-in-law was mentally freaking out.

Sigrid reached out and pulled her sister from Alana's arms. "Tilda and I, will we also..."

Alana shrugged. "I don't know. You three are unique - the first mixed offspring of Amator. I frankly have no clue. Bain is more powerful than most Amator. He will change by his birthday - of that I am certain. His scent begins to change already. It is his time. But you should have already changed, and did not. There might be several reasons for that. Amator prefer to stay in flocks. It could simply be that your second-form has not yet manifested itself because you were alone in your gift. Bain was too young, when you were fifteen, for you to sense his heritage. It could be that you will never change, or never change fully. I truly do not know. The same goes for Tilda. However, I am more confident that she will fully change. Her power is more defined. Yours, I feel, but it races and swirls in confusion. You have great power, but may never be able to use it. Tilda's power flows in her veins more like her mother's did."

Sigrid nodded, but it was clear that she didn't really understand. Alana smiled. "We'll look into it further later on. When the battle is won."

She glanced around. "Well, then. This has been very interesting, and given me a great deal of comfort. To know that my sister lives on in the lives of her children... But the time for talk is done, for now. Fell deeds are afoot, great change will soon come to pass."

Bilbo piped up then. "You said something like that on the mountain, Lana. What do you mean?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Lana?"

The hobbit grinned sheepishly. "We decided that it wasn't fair for you to give all the nicknames."

Alana laughed. "Fair enough. And what I mean is that our eyes weren't the only ones turned to the mountain. Do you think it was an accident that Azog the Defiler was on Thorin's trail? Do you think it was an accident that the goblins of the Misty Mountains were watching for you in the passes? None of it was an accident."

"...You mean the goblins and orcs want the gold?"

"The goblins and orcs - or the one behind them. And I have a feeling that gold is not the only thing he wants from that mountain. It is in a very strategic place, don't you think, Thorin?" She drew the dwarf into the conversation. "Guarding the entrance to the vast wastelands of Angmar. If that fell into the wrong hands, the old fortress could easily be used again. Rebuilt, it has been already. You see? There is a much greater game afoot than you thought, Oakenshield."

Thorin had paled, realising what fortress Alana was referring to. "Then Gundabad has been inhabited once again by filth - or that is at least your fear. But how do you know these things?"

"If I can fly to the starts and return in a night, why should I not be able to explore the north and return in as little time? Azog's merry little band of followers rode Gundabad wargs. That, and several other things, raised a number of grave concerns in my mind. To the stars I went for answers, for they too remember the horrors of Morgoth, and keep a close watch on his old haunts. The things they told me were enough that I went to see for myself."

Thorin nodded, trusting her completely. "You have never failed us, Lana. What should we do?"

"Take the people of Laketown into the halls of Erebor. Here they are far from safe. Take the crown of your fathers, and unite the dwarf kingdoms. Send for their aid. Fortify your kingdom, rebuild the gate that Smaug destroyed in his rage. When the elves come - and they will - receive them as long-lost brothers. Let me have charge of whatever I wish, whenever I wish - for I know much that you do not. Nor would it be wise to tell you all I know. And should the red lion make an appearance, as I dearly hope it shall, know that you have found new allies."

Thorin shook his head. "Fine instructions, till the end. Must you always include a riddle in your talk?"

"Are not dragons known for their love of riddles?" She answered. "And are not dragons fallen Amator? It follows, then, that Amator might very well like riddles as well. But content yourself - I know the answer to my own riddle, and it is enough."

Alana turned to Bard, who had been listening carefully all the while. "You must lead the people of Laketown. This false 'master' has no right to lead. You are the descendent of Girion of Dale. The right to rule this people is yours. They are eager for change, and know you for a just and honest man. They will accept you - and I will deal with that pond scum that fancies himself their leader. Lead them to Erebor, where they will be safe."

Bard nodded slowly, though it was clear that he did not really trust her.

"Thorin, I will steal from you Bilbo and Kili, for a time. I leave you Fili, for you will need help in the next few days, and he is your heir. It is fitting. But I have need of helpers. Bill has talents I can use, and I want to keep and eye on Ki for a bit - though I healed his wound, morgul poison is tricky. I wish to be perfectly satisfied that I have thoroughly cast it out."

"How could I refuse the one request you have ever made of me?"

The twins hugged each other, and Kili moved to Alana's side. The Amator woman turned back to Bard.

"I would also take Sigrid and Tilda with me, if I may. They will be far safer in Rivendell than here, and I would be happiest to leave them in the care of Lord Elrond, who knows much about their mother's people. I would ask for Bain as well, but you will need him here. And, I suspect, I will need his help if I hope to achieve my goals. His gifts would aid me greatly in contacting several influential people who may bring us aid."

Bard stiffened and laid a hand on Sigrid's shoulder, while pulling Tilda close. He opened his mouth to refuse, but Bain cut in.

"Let her take them, Da, please? I can feel her soul in mine soul, and it is good. She will not let any hurt come to them. They will both be safe."

Alana gave her nephew an approving glance.

Sigrid also spoke up. "I don't know quite why, Da - but I trust her. And I can look after Tilda wherever Rivendell is just as well as I can here. If my aunt believes that we will be safe there, I would like to go. I would like to take Tilda away from the fighting. She has seen enough of it already!"

Thorin decided to add his two cents worth. "Alana has been with my company for many months now, and has never once led us wrong. I trust her beyond all others - even myself. She has proven herself time and time again."

"Your word means little to me." Bard rebuffed the dwarf prince.

"Perhaps. But it is still the word of Thorin Oakenshield, and a dwarf who will not lie."

"I think its about time for you to drop that title, Thorin. But nevermind me - keep it for now. Azog must die ere you relinquish it." Alana murmured. "But enough of this. Bard, will you let me take your daughters to safety or no?"

Bard hesitated for a long moment. "How long will it take you to reach this Rivendell place?"

"About two hours, I should think. Depends on the wind across the mountains. No - that shouldn't be a problem. The great mountain storms are over for the year. Yes, about two hours. Maybe a trifle more."

Bard nodded. "I will go with you, then. If I am satisfied, I will leave my daughters in the care of whatever person you have chosen. If not, they shall return with me."

"Then, by all means, let us be off. We have spent enough time already. Thorin, go to the one who calls himself "Master of the men of the Lake." Flatter him and promise gold for his people - gold which you promised before, if Bard tells me aright - and get him to start mobilizing the people. He may at least be useful for that. Bain will stay and help you, as his father's heir." She took second-form and crouched so the ones who were going with her would be on her back. As they climbed on, she continued. "Look for Bard's return in about five hours. For I am wounded, and must seek healing in Thranduil's halls before traversing the air of the mountains." With that, she slowly rose in the air. Her wince was obvious to all, but she ignored her pain as best as she could and soared toward the dimness of Mirkwood.