"Orcs?" Thranduil asks, lounging back in his chair and raising a silver goblet to his lips. Billana would put a good portion of her share on the fact that the goblet contains wine. "A ploy by your king, no doubt, to scare us into departing."

"My uncle doesn't know that we've come," Fili admits and Thranduil leans forwards.

"If this is true," the Master sneers, "then we would be best served by returning to Laketown and letting the orcs deal with you. It will be a simple matter to take the mountain from them and claim that which is rightfully ours afterwards."

"None of the gold in that mountain belongs to you," Fili snarls. "Your people have done nothing but cower in the face of the dragon. We have paid dearly to claim it back."

"Fili," Billana cuts him off.

"What, exactly, have you sacrificed?" Thranduil demands. "It was my realm that burned under the onslaught of the dragon's fire."

"That wasn't our intention," Fili admits. "We had hoped to avoid the attention of the dragon altogether until we had more of our people here to help deal with him."

"Your lack of planning and thought cost elf lives," Thranduil points out.

"And your lack of aid in the aftermath of Smaug's attack cost a great many dwarf lives," Fili replies.

"It doesn't matter," Billana snaps in frustration. "What matters now is that even more lives are going to be lost. Given the numbers and location, you won't be making it back to Laketown. They already have us cut off. We came to warn you so that you can be ready, not to debate whose actions have caused more hardship or cost more lives. The orcs are coming, people are going to die. The only question is whether we stand together or continue to bicker among ourselves and get taken by surprise."

"Very well said, my dear," a new voice says, and all eyes turn upon the door.

Gandalf stands there, looking decades older than he had when they last saw him. His grey robes are even more tattered and his hair hangs limp and dirty about his head. Billana cries his name, rising onto her hind legs and placing her fore paws on his shoulders so that she can greet him. The smell of orc hits her hard and she recoils away from him.

"What happened?" She asks. "You smell so strongly of them!"

"I was imprisoned, Billana," he tells her, and the Master makes a noise of surprise, obviously not having realised that the talking wolf is the same hobbit he had tried to have kidnapped. "It is why I could not meet you at the entrance, although you seem to have done well enough for yourselves. I would not have escaped at all but for the sudden departure of every orc in Dol Guldur and the arrival of the other members of the White Council. The danger is greater than any of us realised, and the sickness upon Mirkwood is only a part of it. An ancient enemy is trying to return and within that army he will have an agent who must be killed. No matter what. The enemy is interfering in things that he has been forbidden to influence and we need proof of it." He glances around the tent. "But I see a great many things have changed while I have been gone. Why is a meeting of such importance being conducted in the middle of the night? And by the heir to the throne under the mountain who lacks a proper guard."

"There's only fourteen of us in that mountain, Gandalf," Fili reminds the wizard. "Hardly a large enough number for a proper guard."

"Perhaps I should have specified any guard at all," the wizard arches an eyebrow.

"There was a problem," Fili admits.

"Yes, it would seem that the great and righteous Thorin Oakenshield has fallen to the same insanity that plagued his grandfather," Thranduil sneers.

"This is nothing like what happened to Thror," Fili snarls. "This is because of Smaug," he takes a shuddering breath, "this is because my gift wasn't enough."

"There are few who possess the gift powerfully enough to stand against a dragon and survive, young master dwarf," Gandalf points out, "that any of you are still alive and the dragon dead is a miracle itself." Thranduil sniffs.

"If fourteen of them can defeat a dragon," he says as he takes another sip of his wine, "they should be able to handle an army made up of all the orcs in Middle Earth."

"I had thought my uncle counselled against warning you because of the curse Smaug had placed upon him," Fili grinds out between his teeth, "now I wonder if, perhaps, he said it because he knew that you would turn tail and run." Billana noses his pocket and Fili digs into it, pulling out a small pouch that Billana knows cannot possibly contain all of the gems that Thranduil had laid claim to. "There are more of these," he says as he flings the pouch over, "safe in the mountain where only my brother, our wife and I know to look. I brought those as a show of good faith, that we could be allies in the battle that approaches. I give you my word as heir to the throne of Erebor that they will be returned to you should the battle be won." The elf king's face takes on an odd expression as he opens the pouch. The gems inside seem to glow slightly and it renders his face slightly eerie in the candle lit tent.

"Only if the battle is won?" Thranduil asks.

"I would not think that any of us would be in a position to care about the whereabouts of the rest if we should lose," Elladan observes dryly. "No gift for us?" He asks Fili.

"Only that I grace you with the benevolence of my presence instead undoing the healers good work on Elrohir's nose after giving you one to match," Fili replies and is surprised when the twins both laugh.

"Well, Billana, you did not need our approval," Elrohir says, "but we shall give it anyway. I doubt you could have found yourself a better mate had you searched for an eternity."

"Not, you understand," Elladan adds, "that we will ever do more than tolerate them for your sake. Still, it would seem that we have some measure of our father's foresight after all, for all the years that we have called you 'Little Queen'."

"You two are impossible," Billana comments, "and we need to leave or we won't be back at the mountain by dawn," she tells Fili. He nods.

"Will you help us?" He asks Thranduil.

"I dislike the cryptic warnings of wizards," Thranduil comments, the bag of gems tucked out of sight, "and I am little inclined towards accepting the truths offered by dwarves. I am not, however, a complete fool. When both parties arrive spouting the same nonsense it should be given careful consideration, no matter my opinion on the messengers. We will fight with you, young prince, should your warning prove correct. If the orcs have not arrived within two days, however, you shall find my wrath less pleasant than my hospitality." Fili snorts.

"The Men will not stand with you," the Master declares. "You come here and do little more than make threats and break the promises that your king and his adviser gave, only to demand that we fight your battles."

"In which case I will not speak to my wife's father about ensuring that the terms within the contracts in our possession are adhered to," Fili shrugs. "By fraudulently altering your copy you have rendered the entire deal voided, by dwarven law at least. If you are to take your Men and run there won't be enough of you left to worry over the contract once the orcs are done with you."

"And if we do stand with you?" The Master asks.

"Then the agreement as we have it written will stand," Fili assures him, "again you have my word as heir to the throne."

"Which is worthless if Thorin continues in his current state," Gandalf mumbles, too low for the Man to hear but the elves in the room all look at him sharply. "Come along, both of you, I will escort you as near as I may and you can tell me what it is that afflicts your uncle."

Billana would have missed the gesture had she not turned back once more to bid farewell to the twins. As it is, she sees the moment that the Master raises his hand and flicks his fingers towards her. She sees the two Men who stand beside him leap at her in a useless attempt to grab her, and she sees the moment that Fili sinks his blade into one of them as he steps in front of her. Her jaws close about the hand of the other, who screams as she crushes the bones of his wrist. She releases him in horror, though whether it is due to the fact that the Master tried to have her taken, Fili's rapid dispatch of the other guard or her own actions she is not able to say. Thranduil and the twins are on their feet, swords drawn as the Master babbles about treachery at the hands of his own people.

"Go," Elladan hisses, "we will deal with this. You must get back to the mountain before you are both missed."

They rush through the camp, Gandalf's staff glowing in his grasp as he leads them through the numerous elves drawn to the noise coming from the king's tent. They are completely ignored by all and well on their way to Erebor before the wizard slows his pace. For all Gandalf has the appearance and bearing of an old man, when it suits him the wizard moves as though none of the decades he carries have touched him at all.

"Tell me about Thorin," Gandalf orders as soon as they are a good distance from the elven encampment.

They do not stop as Fili and Billana tell Gandalf about the fight with Smaug and how Thorin was struck by the unknown spell that left him unconscious for days and bedridden for a time after that. Fili then tells Gandalf what they found within a damaged book deep in the library of Erebor and his own attempt to help Thorin that seems to have accelerated the deterioration of the dwarf king's mind. Their pace slows with that, Gandalf's head bent low as he thinks on everything that they have told him and his steps beginning to show his exhaustion.

"There is something that I can try," Gandalf says finally, "though I fear that it will be some time until I am able to attempt it. Dragon curses are not easily lifted and if the battle that will come in the following days does not shock your uncle back to himself, it may be that you will have to take the throne far earlier than any of us would like. The dwarves of Erebor cannot afford to be under the rule of another mad king while their position here in the north is still tenuous."

"I will not do anything to harm my uncle," Fili hisses.

"Nor would I ask it of you," Gandalf assures him. "Get back into the mountain and try to stay out of his notice. I do not like to think what Thorin might do in the grip of this curse. Not even the fact that you are family will protect you from his wrath at a time like this. You will have to exercise great caution in dealing with him until this matter can be solved." Fili nods and Gandal kneels beside Billana. "As for you, my dear," he says, running a hand that trembles slightly through her fur, "you have grown into exactly who I knew you could be. I am proud of you, and I am happy for you. Be well, and be careful tomorrow. I expect to see the three of you still alive when the fighting is over."

They nod and hurry away, aware of the first rays of sunlight which are beginning to peak over the horizon, and make it back up onto the battlements with just enough time to slip back to their rooms before the rest of the Company begins to wake.


A.N: Is my assignment done? No. Is it nearly done? Also no. Am I working on it? Sort of. Writing is my reward for working out which extremophile is which! And all the lovely comments I've been getting lately are seriously addictive.