Disclaimer: I only own Ira and Amicitia. The rest belong to their respective owners.

A/N: I had a massive moment of inspiration and drive earlier today, so I've been writing this for a little while. Hence how I finished the chapter (I'd previously been like... two paragraphs in.) Hope it's up to scratch.

Big thanks to: rebade, pixelerrante, Shutzereu, mortem incarnatus32, mistyuri778, Senju Sowdowwen, Kingdark, Hakazin, Chesires-Ace, and cheekymanwaffle for following/favouriting.

Review Response(s):

Ny'Kle: Not in this chapter. Perhaps in the next one *wink, wink*

Guest: I hope it lives up to your expectations.

greenstripe: Same time.

Mac Gustah: I'm glad you think so. I wanted their to be a little diversity :)

Lord Jace: Just wait one sec...

gabiey: Well, the real fight foesn't come in until next chapter. I hope it doesn't disappoint, though. (Duh!)

rgss: 'Only your opinion'? Dude, everyone's opinions are important. But until then, you'll just have to hold your breath.


Chapter 29:

Amicitia couldn't help but gnaw at her bottom lip in worry. The elves and men were approaching, and with Thorin under the influence of the gold sickness again, she doubted they would escape this day without bloodshed.

The woman was in the treasury, staring blankly at all the gold and jewels in front of her. She could hear the sound of voices up on the balcony, but wasn't interested. She couldn't stand politics. Of any kind. And the fact Thorin had fallen prey to the gold sickness twice now made her even less inclined to listen to their petty squabbles.

That being said, Amicitia bolted towards the balcony when she heard Thorin's powerful voice yelling in fury. "THE ARKENSTONE IS IN THIS MOUNTAIN! IT IS A TRICK!"

Amicitia arrived just as Bilbo stepped forward, looking pale in the face, but determined nonetheless. "I-It's no trick. The stone is real. I gave it to them."

Thorin's face twisted into one of hurt, sorrow, and an incurable rage. Everyone else in the company was gaping at him, eyes wide with shock. Amicitia was actually more confused than anything. She thought the bond Bilbo had formed with Thorin was strong. Incredibly strong. Why would the halfling betray him after everything they'd all gone through to get this far?

"You..." Thorin clearly couldn't continue.

"I took it as my fourteenth share," Bilbo stated quietly.

"You would steal from me?" Thundered the dwarf King.

Bilbo reeled back. "Steal from you?" He squeaked. "No. No! I may be a burglar, but I like to think I am an honest one. I'm willing to let it stand against my claim."

"Against your claim?! Your claim! You have no claim over me you miserable rat!" Thorin threw down the bow and arrows he held and stalked towards Bilbo, fuming.

"I was going to give it to you. Many times I wanted to, but..."

"But what, thief?!" Thorin yelled, right in the poor hobbit's face.

"You've changed, Thorin!" Bilbo retorted desperately. "The dwarf I met in Bag End would never have gone back on his word! Would never have doubted the loyalty of his kin!"

"Do not speak to me of loyalty," said the dwarf, his voice low and dangerous. He faced his kin. "Throw him from the rampart!" He ordered. But instead of obeying, the dwarves all stepped away from Bilbo. "Do you hear me?!" The King shouted.

"Enough, Thorin!" Amicitia said, pushing forward to stand in front of Bilbo. "You cannot do that to Bilbo. You gave him a claim, and he took it. You have no right to take what you offered him."

"Move out of my way, witch," growled Thorin. "I will do it myself if I must."

"No, Thorin. I won't let you do that which you will later regret." Amicitia completely ignored the insult.

Thorin lunged forward and, after shoving Amicitia out of the way (and causing her to stumble into Fili), he grabbed Bilbo, who was trembling in the wake of Thorin's legendary temper. "Curse you!" He roared.

"No!" Fili and Amicitia cried together, alarmed by the move and concerned for the hobbit's safety. The whole company threw themselves at the pair, trying to pry Bilbo from Thorin's hands, but the King managed to push him towards the ramparts. Bilbo was cornered, and backed right against the stone.

"Cursed be the wizard that forced you on this company!" Thorin growled loudly.

At that moment, a figure pushed his way through the hordes of elves and men before them. It was Gandalf. "IF YOU DON'T LIKE MY BURGLAR..." He started, his voice powerful and booming through the air. He continued, quieter and calmer. "Then please, don't damage him. Return him to me. You're not making a very splendid King under the Mountain, are you, Thorin, son of Thrain?"

Slowly, Thorin let Bilbo go. The hobbit let out a shaky sigh of relief. Amicitia stepped forward and gently pulled him away from the King, eyeing the sick dwarf warily.

"Never again will I have dealings with wizards," Thorin stated coldly.

Amicitia saw a rope draped over the stone and gently nudged him towards it. "Go," she hissed, "before he does something else to harm you or anyone else."

"Or Shire-rats!" Thorin said, pointing an accusing finger at Bilbo. The halfling quickly scrambled down, Amicitia watching him protectively as he went.

"Are we resolved?" Bard asked, speaking up from the large crowd beneath them. "The return of the Arkenstone for what was promised." Thorin glared, before his eyes fell on a ridge in the distance. A strange gleam entered his eye, and when Amicitia followed his gaze, she saw why. Ira was there, and with her, a large, black crowd. "Give us your answer!" Bard shouted, apparently not having seen the approaching army. "Will you have peace, or war?"

Thorin smirked darkly. "I will have war" He declared, and at that point, Ira let out a loud roar, startling men and elves alike. Even some of the company were caught off-guard. The dwarves cheered at the arrival of their allies and kin, and Thranduil shouted out an order in elvish, causing the two armies to face towards the dwarves. They halted not far from each other.

One particularly... grand... looking dwarf rode forward, under the watchful eye of the burgundy dragon behind him. "Good morning!" He greeted mockingly. "How are we all?" His question was followed, as expected, by a stony silence. "I have a wee proposition, if you wouldn't mind giving me a few moments of your time." There was a dramatic pause. "Would you consider... just sodding off?!" Ira growled lowly in response, though whether it was to agree or reprimand the dwarf, Amicitia didn't know. The lake men drew back a little in fear, but the elves took a step forward, brandishing their weapons in an attempt to be intimidating. It clearly failed, because the dwarf continued. "All of you. Right now!"

"Stand fast!" Bard yelled to his men.

Gandalf walked forward. "Come now, Lord Dain.

"Gandalf the Grey," Dain greeted. "Tell this rabble to leave, or I'll water the ground with their blood."

"There is no need for war between dwarves, men and elves! A legion of orcs march on the mountain. Stand your army down!"

"I will not stand down before any elf! Not least this faithless woodland sprite!" Thranduil shot him a look that, were looks able to kill, would have the dwarf lord six feet under in less than a second. As it were, Dain just kept prattling on. "He wishes nothing but ill upon my people! If he chooses to stand between me and my kin, I'll split his pretty head open. See if he's still smirking then." The dwarves on either side of Amicitia cheered, but Thranduil just rolled his eyes.

"He's clearly mad, like his cousin!"

"You hear that, lads?!" Dain queried, looking behind him at his army. "Come on! Let's give these tree-hugging bastards a good hammering!" A shout was given, and the dwarves of the Iron Hills raised their weapons and yelled out loud battle cries. The elves responded in kind, creating a series of barriers out of shields and spears. The archers remained at the back.

Ira let a jet of flames fly from her throat, scorching the ground between the two armies, and drawing attention her way.

"Are you blind and deaf to what the wizard has told you? An army of orcs heads this way, and yet you are willing to waste precious lives fighting amongst yourselves, instead of facing a common enemy?!"

Before anyone could find something to say in response, massive, defiled worms, dozens of feet long and several feet thick broke through the rocks. Their mouths were eating through the rock with - apparently - very little trouble. Everyone watched in shock as they then turned around and disappeared back into the tunnels they had dug, into the side of the hills nearby. Then, on top of one of those hills, Azog the Defiler and other orcs came to a standstill.

Within seconds, a horn sounded, and legions of orcs and Akatosh-knows what other foul creatures slunk out of the holes that had been dug. Amicitia formed her most useful fire spells in her palms, face growing grim and serious.

Dain's voice was heard easily over the sound of marching feet. "The hordes of hell are upon us! To battle! To battle, sons of Durin!"

And then all hell broke loose.

Ignoring Thorin having a yell-fest at the dwarves, Amicitia stood on top of the rampart and began firing her spells at the orcs, causing them to start screaming and crying out in pain. An odd growl of annoyance sudden escaped Ira's lips, and to Amicitia shock and horror, she flew into the air and turned away. She flew in the opposite direction of the battle, towards the North, with such speed it was frightening. Ira, their greatest ally, was leaving them, and Alduin... well, he hadn't been seen for hours. Amicitia swore over and over in her head, cursing her sister to the depths (though she never really meant it), while still sending spells towards the enemy, watching the dwarves, elves and men fighting furiously below. She was alone on the rampart, the dwarves having disappeared off somewhere. She hoped it was to prepare for battle, but in her heart she knew it was not true. She could only hope Thorin found himself again before it was too late.

...

Ira felt the call within her, the tug in her chest. Her name was being called. Her dragon name (which was odd, really, because she wasn't even certain she had one. How could someone know what it was when she didn't?). Despite everything, the call became too much for her to ignore, and, instead of staying to fight alongside her friends, Ira took to the air and flew North, following the pull of the call.

Within just a few minutes, a new set of mountains started underneath her. They were warmer than Erebor had been, and when Ira spotted Alduin - what in the name of Talos was he doing all the way out here? - she understood why. With him were dragons. Three dragons, to be exact, all lesser to him (and her), but they surrounded him in a threatening way. Ira growled at them when she landed, and they drew back a little, knowing their odds were significantly worse than they had previously been (not that they were ever very good).

"Fahvos los hi het? Dilfahliil los ahst kein, ahrk tul hi faan zey hond. (Why are you here? The dwarves are at war, and still you called me away.)"

"Nii los dahik do kein Zu'u los het. (It is because of the war I am here.)" Alduin replied grumpily. "Zu'u los het wah ofaal niist mir. (I am here to gain their allegiance.)"

Ira snorted. "Ahrk Zu'u lorfonaar hi praag dii hiif voth tol. (And I suppose you need my help with that.)" She sighed. "Very well."

"We will not fight," a green dragon with yellow eyes growled, narrowing said eyes in defiance. "They are nothing to us."

"They will be if it means you keep your life," Ira snapped back, using her superior height and general size to intimidate the dragon. "You have a choice. Fight with us, or die. And if you try to flee, your punishment will be worse than death, I assure you." Ira, in the corner of her eye, saw the odd look that Alduin shot her in response to these words, but she didn't care. Her friends were quite possibly being slaughtered at that very moment, and she would do whatever it took to get back in time. "Now," she said, more calm this time. "Will you fight with us, or will you forsake your lives?"


Tadah! Heh, okay, sorry.

Until next time.