So, I started writing this update immediately after my last final two weeks ago. And then life happened. So... You know. I'm posting it today though, YAY!

Alana all-but crashed in front of Thranduil's gate. The trees made her landing very tricky, and she was already worn out. The tip of one wing caught on a branch, and she severely aggravated her wounds in trying to keep her balance and not throw off any of her passengers. They climbed off carefully. Bilbo and Kili gently stroked the sides of her neck as her chest heaved with exhaustion and pain. With an effort, she raised her head. She could feel her exhaustion - both physical and magical - beginning to draw out her blood rage.

"Bill." She said softly, suddenly realizing that her pack - and emergency flask - was still in Bard's house. "Go knock on the door."

"That's it?" Tilda asked curiously. "Just knock on the door?" She was a lot closer than Bilbo, who was still hovering worriedly over his friend, and happily skipped over to the huge doors and banged her small fist against them.

"Open, open, open!" She chanted. "My auntie is sick, and she wants to talk to somebody named Thandil!"

Alana snorted at Tilda's pronunciation of her friend's name.

"Thranduil." Kili quickly corrected.

"Oh." Tilda turned back to the great doors. "I was wrong, she doesn't want to talk to Thandil. His name's really Thranduil. She said to knock, so I'm knocking. Why won't the doors open?" Knock, knock, knock, went her small fist.

After a moment, the gates opened enough for one elvish guard to make his way out. He wore a look of utter confusion, which only deepened on seeing the little girl blinking up at him.

"Hi." She said, in that straightforward way that all little kids have. "My name is Tilda. I'm a Amato. So is my auntie. And she needs help. And she wants to talk to Thandil - no, Thranduil!" Tilda was triumphant at getting the name right.

The elf's confusion turned to utter bewilderment. He had yet to notice the others, his attention was so focused on the strange child before him.

"Where did you come from, little one?"

"Laketown. My auntie brought me here. There was a dragon named Smaug, and she killed it. Because she is a Amato."

"Amator, Tilda." Sigrid, corrected softly. "Aunt Alana is an Amator."

"Oh." Tilda looked between her sister and the elf, who had just realized that there were other people present. "I was wrong again."

The elf's eyes grew even wider when he saw the Amator, and he suddenly ducked back inside the gate. "Lady Tauriel!"

Said elf could be heard moments later. "What is it, Galwar?"

"I... I am not sure. There is a dead dragon in front of the gate!"

Tauriel appeared instantly. Her eyes widened as they swept over the scene, and she whirled on the poor elf beside her. "That is not a dragon, and she is not dead! Send for Prince Legolas at once - and send a message to the King. Tell him that Lady Alana has returned, and is wounded."

The elf gave an awkward bow, and vanished inside the gates. Tauriel turned and shouted to guards inside, "Open the gates, you fools! Let it not be said that the elves of the Greenwood leave guests standing like beggars at the doorstep!"

Tilda beamed up at Tauriel. "You are an elf, aren't you. You are very pretty. Are all elf ladies very pretty? Sigrid says that they must be. Are your ears pointy? Elf ears are supposed to be pointy. Why don't you have a bow? Da said that elves are very good archers. Like Da, only I don't think anyone is as good an archer as Da."

Tauriel smiled gently at the girl. "Yes, I am an elf. I am glad that you think me pretty. Most elvish women are far prettier than me. My ears are pointy - would you like to see? And I do have a bow, it is on my back. Your Da is right, elves are good archers. And of course no one is as good with a bow as your Da." She ended kindly, and knelt to allow the little girl to run her fingers over the tips of her ears. Tilda inquisitively felt her own ears, and then Tauriel's ears again.

"They really are pointy."

"Tilda!" Sigrid gasped, horrified at her little sister's manners and afraid of offending the elf.

Tauriel just laughed. "Indeed they are."

"Do they ever poke you?"

Sigrid looked ready to faint. Kili roared in amusment. Tauriel laughed again.

"No, little one. Tilda, I believe your name is? They do not poke me."

"Good. I don't think that would be very nice."

"No, it wouldn't." Tauriel agreed, choking back her mirth. "You are a very sweet little girl. Will you introduce me to your friends? Lady Alana and the dwarf Kili I know already."

"You know Auntie Alana?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Tilda pointed. "That is my sister, Sigrid. And that is my Da. And that is Bilbo, one of Auntie Alana's friends."

"Tauriel?" A voice called, and then Legolas stepped into view. "What is going -" His eyes widened. "Lady Alana!"

A few quick steps put him at her side. He bent over her head and asked softly, "Where are you wounded, Lady?"

Alana sighed, and shook her head. "I need my drink. I have little more than half an hour of control left."

Legolas nodded sharply. "Tauriel! Send someone for Lady Alana's drink." Tauriel nodded, and said something to someone within the gates of the palace.

The prince asked again, "Tell me Lady. Where are your hurts? I will tend your wounds while they bring your drink."

"My scales are cut and scraped all over. I believe some were loosened enough that they fell on our flight here. No matter - they will regrow - but I am sore. My back legs are torn, but they will mend. Smaug missed the tendon. More than all else, my mind is tired, my magic exhausted, and my control strained."

"I fear there is little I can do for those three hurts, at present. But I will see to your legs."

Legolas was kneeling beside her and chanting a healing spell when his father finally arrived on the scene. Thranduil did not waste time with questions, and immediately joined his son. Together, they healed her of her hurts with the wonderful healing magic of the elves, and even a little Amator healing magic that Alana had taught Thranduil long ago.

An elf arrived with a goblet of fresh rabbit blood, and Thranduil carefully poured it into her mouth. Moments later, Alana heaved herself to her feet - mindful of the trees that she would so easily break in this form. She had done enough damage to her friend's forest already.

"I fear I may have crushed several trees in my descent..." She said softly.

Thranduil shook his head. "Pay it no mind. The forest is not an easy place for you to land, and you were wounded. But tell me - what of Smaug? Is it over?"

"Smaug lies at the bottom of the lake, never to rise again. But this matter is far from over, my friend. Heed my advice - trust me again as you once did. Feel deeds awake. You must take your men, and march to the mountain. I will return there ahead of you, for I will be flying fast. All will be explained then. This alone I have time to say now - that mountain is now unguarded save for a company of twelve dwarves. It lies on the very doorstep of Angmar. Dark minds turn thither. Thorin summons the dwarf kingdoms, and Bard - who I have here with me - will assume leadership of the lakemen. He is the descendant of Girion. But dwarvish steel and fishermen will hardly prove enough. Elvish arrows are needed too - and elvish blades. I have told Thorin to expect you, and he opens the mountain to you - if you will go. Your stay in his halls will be far more pleasant this his was in your halls, I would warrant."

Thranduil said nothing for a time, then nodded gravely. "Very well. We march to the Lonely Mountain. But only because of Angmar, and because you ask it."

Alana smiled, satisfied. "Good. Then my work here is done. Come, Bill, Kee, sharalm, and brother. We have far yet to fly."

She stooped, and they climbed on her back again. Tilda waved happily at Tauriel. They they were gone, off toward the mountains.

As she flew, Alana turned her head to look at Bilbo and Kili. "Tell me - did Gandalf take you by way of Beorn?"

"Yes, indeed." Bilbo returned.

"Good. I shall send word to him from the mountains. The eagles will happily do me this service, I think. I may send word to Radagast as well - gentle soul, his heart is with the animals of the realm, but he cares for its other life as well. And he deeply hates the darkness. Yes, I will send him word. But Gandalf - him I will find myself. I still have not heard the story. What happened in Mirkwood?"

Bilbo and Kili took turns filling her in on what she had missed.

"But we have no idea where Gandalf went, Lana, nor do we know why he left so suddenly!" Bilbo finished.

"I have some idea what caused him to leave - though as for where he went, that is more obscure. Perhaps Elrond will have some answers."

They had reached the mountains long ago, and were flying among the peaks. It was very cold, and Alana allowed a little of her inner heat to radiate from her scales to warm her passengers. Now that Bilbo and Kili had completed their tale, she paused in flight. Her wings beat hard to keep her in place. She roared softly, calling to the eagles.

The screams of the great birds answered her quickly, and soon she was surrounded by the flock.

"Amator." Gwaihir, the leader, greeted her. "What brings you to summon our aid?"

"I know your sharp eyes cannot have missed the activity of the goblins in these mountains, nor of the orcs on the plain. Tell me, then, will you help in this fight or no? Answer quickly, for I have far yet to go, and little time to get there."

"We will always fight darkness. Our people were created by Manwe for just such a purpose. Though we are not so old or powerful as the Amator, still we will fight."

"It is well." Alana responded. "If this is your choice, send your fastest messengers to Beorn the Skinchanger and to Radagast the Brown. They must join in this fight also. Tell them what you know. And also this, which you know not. The mountain is the doorway to Angmar. The enemy has returned. He must not regain the fallen fortress."

Gwaihir bowed his head. "I shall send our fastest to the Brown Wizard, and to Beorn I shall go myself. Our people shall gather in the high places, and watch the movement of the enemy. When the blow is struck, our number shall be added to yours."

Alana thanked him with similar courtly speech, and the eagles darted away. The Amator and her passengers resumed their journey. Alana was strong, and flew quickly in spite of being tired. With her control over her magic reestablished, she could continue on, even with her exhaustion. they reached Rivendell quickly.

The elves saw her coming, and sent word to Elrond. After her visit with the dwarves, Elrond had made sure that all his people knew of the returned Amator. It would not do for elvish arrows to fell their best ally. By the time she landed, her friend was in the courtyard waiting for her.

"I am most glad to see you return in health, Alana, but it worries me that you travel in this form so openly." Elrond opened, ignoring the traditional niceties. He knew Alana well, and was concerned for her. Polite exchanges could wait.

"There is no use to hiding myself longer. Smaug is dead, and the birds sing of in all corners of the world. the manner of creature that killed him cannot be kept unknown. For even the enemy knows what can kill draghonar. And Smaug made no secret of who challenged him, but proclaimed me Amator for all the magical world to hear."

"Then why have you come?" Elrond asked, his usually impassive face conveying his worry. He had not missed her mention of the enemy. Sauron.

"I knew that the moment I destroyed the draghonar, a race would begin. Against time and our enemy. The Lonely Mountain guards the gateway to Angmar - and there is now no draghonar to guard the mountain. I have sent Thranduil to aid Thorin and the men of Laketown in the defense of the place. Here with me I have my sharalm - the two daughters of my sister. You will remember that she stayed for love of a mortal, and vanished from our sight. This is Bard, descendent of Girion, heir of Dale and rightful Master of the Lakemen. He is my sister's husband, and my brother. I have brought his daughters to you for safekeeping. His son remains with the Lakemen, awaiting our return. Will you keep my sharalm here in safety, and guard them until my return?"

Elrond nodded gravely. "You know that I will do as you ask, Lady Alana."

"I have other worries." Alana continued. "Gandalf parted from my dwarves at the eaves of Mirkwood, and none knows where he went. I have not heard from him since. I will go to the stars if I must, but that is a long and tiring journey - and I am spent from the battle."

"You would ask if I know where the Grey Wizard has gone." It was not a question. Elrond paused for the barest space of a second, before saying, "I do know. He made his way to the high fells, where the most loyal servants of our enemy were sealed in the earth. For answers he searched, and answers he found indeed. The enemy has indeed returned. Only he could hope to release his servants from their prison, and summon them from the dead. Now dead and undead they are. He sent Radagast to gather the White Council, and ventured alone into the evil of Dol Guldur. There he fought with our enemy, and was overcome. He was imprisoned, and from his prison he saw many things. His staff, too, perished, but the stone remains. Therefore it may be remade. At Radagast's message, Galadriel, Saruman, and myself made straight for the hill of sorcery. Gandalf is now safe, though slightly worse for wear, and our enemy has been banished to his old strongholds in Mordor. There he will fester and rebuild. The time will come when he once more wages war over the face of the world. We must be ready when that time comes."

Alana nodded gravely. "And where is my wizard now?"

"He makes his way to the Lonely Mountain, in company of Radagast as far as the northernmost parts of Mirkwood."

"How long ago did these things take place?"

"Nigh on a week past."

Alana paused to consider, and nodded. "Then he might be joining the Lakemen as we speak. He will not be lost in the forest, and Radagast will show him the quickest ways. It might be several days still, or it might not. I must return quickly, for there is much to be done. Elrond, do me this one other favor."

Elrond waited.

"I need you to send a message for me. To the stars. They will see it safely delivered."

Her friend nodded. "Tell how I can achieve this, and it shall be done."

Alana jerked her chin toward her chest, where her dragon necklace lay. Elrond reached up and gently removed it.

"I have a particular friend in the skies. She has watched over me since I was born, and did not wish to lose my friendship, so when I left Middle Earth she gave me that. Speak her name in her own tongue, and it will activate. She has an identical necklace, and will be able to speak with you through it. I know you do not speak the tongue of the stars, but it will not be a problem. The only word of that language you will need is her name. I must warn you, however. To contact her takes a great deal of magical energy - enough that I dare not risk it myself. A mortal would probably be killed in the attempt. For yourself, I would expect a loss of consciousness, perhaps for as long as several days, and a lingering tiredness for time beyond that. Knowing the risks, will you do this for me?"

Elrond smiled slightly. "Need you even ask? What message am I to relay?"

Alana simply nodded. "Tell her the Standubh is destroyed. She will already know, but it will put her in a good mood. Say that Angmar now lies open to the enemy, and that Ala would summon help to defend the Lonely Mountain. I ask for the people of the spring, now that the winter has been banished for good. I call for my brother, who will answer my call. Let the red lion come!"

It was clear that this speech was as confusing to Elrond as everyone else, but he did not question her. All he asked was, "And what is the name I must speak to activate this necklace?"

"Tzofiya."

The elvish lord nodded. "I presume you would like me to speak to her as soon as possible?"

"It will take time for my brother to come. The sooner the process begins, the sooner we can hope for help."

Elrond turned to Sigrid and Tilda. "Come, children. I will see you comfortable in the care of my daughter before attempting this venture your aunt requests of me."

Bard hugged both his daughters, and watched as they were led away. Alana shifted impatiently until he was once more settled securely on her back, and then leapt into the sky and soared back toward the Misty Mountains.

Soon Bain was giving his father a welcoming hug, and the Lakemen were shifting nervously away from Alana. She ignored them, remaining in second-form as they journeyed to the Lonely Mountain. It was a long trail, and took them two full days because of the children and supplies. Bain had proved himself very capable in the absence of his father, and the men of the lake mostly obeyed him despite whatever the current master of the lake had to say about it. Alana was quite proud of him.

That night on the trail, Alana slept deeply. She blessed her heritage when she awoke refreshed the next morning, with no lingering exhaustion. That one good sleep had done more than enough for her. Never had she been so thankful for the abilities of her people.

The column of refugees arrived Erebor late the next afternoon. Fili and Bain had been sent on ahead on the back of a fast horse early that morning, to alert the other dwarves to their coming. They had found the beginnings of fortifications already in place across the gaping entrance, and a number of dwarves rather eager for news. Preparations had been made to the best of their ability, and the refugees were welcomed warmly.

Alana was impressed with the amount of work her dwarves had pulled off in a few short hours - a great hall was lit and warmed by braziers of roaring flames, and a very brief inventory of supplies (weapons, food, firewood, medical supplies, and the like) had been taken. The numbers were waiting for Thorin to review the moment he stepped through the gates.

The men of the lake settled down in the hall for the night, worn out from the day's hike.

The next day saw a beehive of activity. Women set about taking more thorough inventories of everything, and setting up a system of rationing. They opened several smaller rooms, and cleaned both those and the great hall everyone was sleeping in. The men armed themselves with weapons and what armor they found suitable for them. Unfortunately, a great deal of the available armor had been made for dwarves, and did not fit the men at all. A number of young boys took great delight in trying on the armor that was closer to their size than the armor their fathers claimed. The men also worked at building up the fortifications under the tireless direction of the dwarves. Different dwarves worked on different parts of the gate, each with a number of men working under them. It was a race against time and the enemy, and every person pulled their weight. Event eh children made themselves useful where they could, taking food and water to the men, cleaning alongside their mothers, and doing menial chores that included clearing small bits of rubble away from the mens' work area. Of course, they were also just generally underfoot as children are wont to be.

The day following that, now the fourth day since the defeat of Smaug, dawned bright and clear, and to the ringing sound of elf horns. The elves had marched through two nights to reach them so quickly, and they were welcomed with enthusiasm. The dwarves were easily the least pleased, but they knew that they needed the help of Mirkwood, and so they were polite and careful not to cause offense. The elves had an easier time avoiding dwarves than the dwarves had avoiding elves - after all, there were about a thousand elves to a grand total of thirteen dwarves. With the elves came a much more welcome (to dwarves) face.

Gandalf entered Erebor beside Thranduil. Thorin, Alana, and Bard were there, waiting to greet them.

Thranduil was polite to the dwarf he had imprisoned, cordial to Bard, and warm to Alana. Gandalf was clearly weary, but looked on all three of them with his usual enigmatic expression. He exchanged a few pleasant words with Bard, greeted Thorin happily, and beamed at Alana.

She, in turn, gave her wizard an enthusiastic hug.

I realize this is not the longest chapter ever, nor is there a whole lot of action. But it is necessary for the rest of the story. Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up soon! Maybe I'll even get it put up tonight. (Probably not, but we can always hope...)