"So you're ALL werewolves…" Shobha looked at Thorin suspiciously. "As in… lycanthropy –"

"Not all of us. It appears to skip the women, but most male children seem to inherit it. Although not all male children either."

"Like full moons and silver bullets sort of stuff?"

"Those are myths. If you stab us enough or suffocate us or something similar then yes we can be killed," his lips pulled up in a satisfyingly arrogant smile. "Personally I would recommend decapitation. But I would like to see anyone try and get that close – And 'lycanthropy': we find that rather derogatory."

"Oh." Ever since that night when she had a run in with the black wolf, whom she now assumed was Thorin, she had been desperate to have her suspicions confirmed. But now that he was actually discussing it openly, she felt like a mad woman, who was just having their madness certified! The victory was hollow. It was all such an anticlimax!

"No full moons. It happens at will…" he then hesitated, as though trying to figure something out for himself. "Although there are times when it seems to occur in an uncontrollable way. Anger is a trigger. Territory is another…"

"So can you not transform back? For example when you see someone who isn't a threat… like me?"

He appeared to go silent for a while, shifting in the bed and wincing with truth was, he had been shocked, by his inability to control himself that first night he had seen her. He had been drawn to her; his carnal desire unshakable.

"Don't do that. Your injuries are awful! I am surprised your are well enough to speak right now. I think you're burning through your morphine – and the rate at which you are healing is crazy…" she moved closer to touch several deep gashes on his bare torso, that she had stitched, but he growled animalistically and flinched away. "I won't do anything, I am just checking there is no active bleeding… I promise…"

"Oin must have told you we heal very fast. So there is no need to check –"

"You were bleeding terribly… those things! They had attacked you so badly." She handed over the water carafe he was reaching for and he poured himself a glass of water.

"Better me than you." He winced again as he began raising his glass, only to unexpectedly feel her small hands around his, before she took it from him, and pressed it gently to his lips.

"Any normal human would be on death's door with these." She spoke quietly, as if it were an admission of guilt. It was her fault, he was injured like this, after all. "So let me help you.. please..."

He was not accustomed to being helped. Even when he was badly injured in the past, he would not accept any help. Oin alone had tended to his wounds each time. So he found himself quite irritated that his chief healer had left this slip of a woman to tend to him!

He closed his right hand over hers, to tip the glass up fully as he drained the cool water. But something about her, made his blood boil. It was the sort of boil that made every part of him come alive, and gave him an ache in places he had long thought were dead.

It made him FEEL again.

He didn't have the time or patience for that. The problem was part of him wanted it – it was a new feeling; Something he couldn't recall even as a younger man.

She made him feel that.

"More?" She asked, snapping him out of his brooding.

He silently nodded, raising his gaze up to meet her big, brown doe eyes. It made his heart race.

Then he noticed that he still held his hand over hers, and quickly let go. Further to his dismay, she pulled away quickly, as though something about his touch scared her.

"I never got the chance to say it then…" she spoke refilling his glass with her back turned. "For getting me out of there…"

Turning to offer him the glass again, she found him staring at her with a smug satisfaction.

"Well, this should be good." He grunted sarcastically.

"I'm sorry…?" She looked mildly confused at first.

Saying nothing he watched her full lips part slightly, in surprise. He expected her to thank him; of course he could think of several better ways he could have her thank him – on her knees.

She handed him the glass, this time she let him help himself, stifling a groan of pain that escaped with his movement. His touch burned her skin, and his gaze was too piercing, as they were, alone in his bedroom.

Now starting to connect the dots in her mind, so many thoughts raced through her head; he was the werewolf that stalked her the first night by their cottage – so he must have carried her in to her room and undressed her! Then it occurred to her that he was also the creature she hit with her car that night on the way back from Dale. This was probably why he had been in pain when she touched his chest… so then was he also the one that she had been dreaming of?! Remembering her dreams made her blush.

Lost in her own thoughts, and feeling self conscious around his harsh and intense stare, a knock on his door virtually made her jump.

They both turned towards the door to watch Balin enter followed by Dwalin.

He too had been lost in wondering what thoughts she had been so engrossed in, prior to her blushing.

"Ah, laddie, you're up." Balin looked over from Thorin to Shobha. "Ye both seem shaken… I trust ye've got some idea about the truth now lass?"

She glanced up at Balin and then Dwalin, and nodded.

"I imagine ye will have many more questions, Shobha lass," Balin sounded a little worried. "But word has now reached the Iron Hills of the abduction, and they are demanding that a council meeting of the elders is held, about the lass."

"What in the world for?" She looked at the older councilman, with his full head of grey and fluffy white beard. She had only ever met him a few times before, and while he had always seemed so busy, he had never looked worried. His change in demeanour troubled her. "And where's Fili?"

"Och he was injured, lass – nothing serious, mind," it was Dwalin who tried to appear reassuring this time. "Just his leg. But Oin has it in hand –"

"Shouldn't I be there helping him?"

"Nah, ya know he will be the first ta call ya if he needs it, lass." Dwalin reassured again.

"Was it those wolves?" Thorin groaned as he sat up in bed, much of his muscles chest was covered in bandages, with a few areas of blood staining, from the sutured gashes underneath.

"Aye, more arrived after ye left. Nothing we couldn't manage. He killed one, and when he searched for a clan tattoo, he was jumped from behind. The bugger regretted it straightaway, but it was enough time for Fili to get injured." Dwalin glanced over to Balin briefly, almost as if searching for unspoken permission to discuss this in front of her. "None of them were wolves we could recognise…"

"I think my room was broken into by a were – I mean, a wolf too! Although I didn't see it well enough to describe it in the dark… but Legolas agreed this may have been done to cause trouble between Erebor and Greenwood."

"Legolas…? The thing that fought for you?" Dwalin spat out, screwing up his face as though she had just stepped in a turd and trudged it through into the house.

"We have not been on good terms for several generations now, this is not new, so I am uncertain what would lead you to think this." Thorin grunted.

"Despite which our people have lived within close proximity of them for sometime now," Balin added in support.

"It would explain why you easily disarmed the weed." Dwalin pondered out loud. "I mean I knew you could take him down, but he hardly put up a fight!"

"He was quite kind… brought me food –"

"Yes well, they had you tied to a bed post. Anything compared to that is positively kind." Thorin scoffed.

"So you spoke of your suspicions with him, lass?" Balin brushed a hand through his fluffy white beard. "And did he believe you…?"

"Yes… I think so… I think someone stands to benefit from there being trouble between Greenwood and Erebor. But who could that be?"

"Well this champion of yours – " Thorin clenched his jaw at the memory of his opponent. He was pale, tall and blonde. He wondered whether she had a preference for men like that, and what her former betrothed looked like. If he hadn't won, she would have rightfully been his to do as he chose. "Perhaps he was humouring you?"

"Legolas, is Thranduil's son. Why would he need to humour me?"

Thorin grunted something unintelligible.

"It matters not for now lass," Balin walked over to her and gently rested his hand no her back. "Ye need some rest. You have been through enough – and ye spent all night looking after Thorin. A good rest will help us all gather our thoughts. In the meanwhile, we think it's best if ye stay in the Manor House – for safety... there is a room in Dis' wing, with Fili and Kili –"

"There is no need. I have already made preparations for the suite here to be made ready. It will be more comfortable than the small guest room in Dis' apartments."

"Och aye? Have ye now Thorin?" Dwalin smiled, only to be shot down by stern expressions from both his brother and cousin. "Alright! Alright!"

"This way lass, I am sure you will appreciate a sleep." Balin led her away, taking the opportunity to shoot another sharp look at Dwalin again.

"You have no idea."

…..

She sat in the enormous room that had been given to her, on the grand four poster bed, that could have accommodated an entire family, looking through her email. Beside her laptop sat her phone, with its now cracked screen, it was taking its time to initialise after being charged up. It had fallen from her hand in the scuffle before she had been captured. Not that it would have helped in her dark Greenwood prison.

Most of her email was from friends back in London, inviting her to various parties or dinners out, and all complaining about how they could never reach her on her phone. There was also a smattering of advertising mail, announcing various sales and deals, but that too was no good up here – where Royal Mail did not deliver to. It made her wonder whether someone from outside of Erebor and Dale actually knew about the whole vampire-werewolf thing.

Her phone buzzed and chimed repeatedly as message after message came through.

"Hello…" she scrolled through, as almost twenty texts came through – all from her mum!

It was Monday – although she had been given a few days off, making it feel more like a weekend. And the whole Greenwood imprisonment had left her quite disorientated, meaning she had missed calling her mother. She almost consistently did so on a Sunday night. It hadnt mattered whether she had been at work or not, Sunday had been the best day.

She let out a shriek, realising her mother may have been panicking about not having heard from her. And may even be readying herself to come up here!

After encountering so much trouble, Shobha was positive that she had no intent of embroiling her mother in whatever was going on.

She moved around the room waving her phone looking for a signal, stumbling and tripping over her various cases and boxes of possessions that had been rescued for her from the cottage, resulting in a few more muffled groans.

Most of her things still lay in boxes, as she had decided to make a concerted effort not to unpack. Her memories from not so long ago, when she had been made to feel like nothing but a cheap tart by Thorin again, made it quite uncertain as to how long she could tolerate living here in his Manor House.

So she had only unpacked a few clothes, which meant she stood there like an idiot, in an old vest and pair of mismatched cami shorts.

Then unexpectedly Thorin burst in through the door, looking around wildly as if he were ready to chase out a wild animal, but still clearly in pain.

"I heard something!" He looked around carefully, before letting his eyes wonder over her form, drinking in her bare limbs almost fully exposed. Unable to help himself from following the trail of delicious honey brown skin under her vest, where the material clung to her, lifting over the swell of her small breasts and tenting where her nipples stood proud.

"What the f –" she scrambled around to find her dressing gown and throwing it on quickly, as he averted his gaze, a subtle smirk settling on his face. "What the devil made you think that?"

"It sounded as though you were being attacked – you screamed!" He still looked around bewildered, as though he was expecting an attacker to jump out any moment. "Has your room been ransacked…?"

"No!" She could feel her cheeks heating up as she regarded her own mess. It was organised chaos. "I… um… tripped…"

And then she looked up at him, wearing soft plaid pyjama trousers, but bare chested, apart from the bandages that covered much of his chest. She could see several tattoos emerging from the edges of his dressings. And one area looked as though it was oozing fresh red blood.

"What are you doing out of bed! You've burst your stitches there!" She quickly marched over to assess his bandages. One particularly deep wound had started bleeding. "I need to change these now anyway –"

"Oin will do them." He frowned at her, clutching her hands in his to stop her. "Tomorrow."

"No. I will do them NOW." She sternly replied. "I mean really, to come running in like that –"

"You SCREAMED! What kind of woman screams when she is not in danger?"

"The kind that hasn't called her mother on a Sunday like she always does. And has received about twenty texts from her mother. And has a crazy vampire abduction story to tell." She pushed against his chest to usher him out as he winced in pain from the pressure of her hand. "And I have no bloody reception to call –"

"It's ten o'clock." He stepped back. "Will it not be too late to call? Call tomorrow?"

"Look Thorin, as far as my mother is concerned – I will always be her little girl. Since the day I left home to go to uni, I called them on a Sunday no matter what. Sometimes it would be really late if I was at work – but I would still call, even if it was for no more than five minutes." She sighed, expecting him not to understand; Mike never did. She just needed to call her mother and tell her she was ok and check that they were doing fine too. It wasn't rocket science. Of course they would text through the week, and even make quick calls. But this was her traditional 'check in'. "Let me put it this way; how do you feel about my mother visiting suddenly, to check in on her youngest daughter…? And she won't give a crap about your laws and rules about no outsiders. In fact she will probably take on all the wolves and vampires you can throw at her, and still turn up with everything she needs to cook me a home made meal!"

"Use my phone. I have a landline in my study. I have a few bits to do myself." He conceded, trying to suppress a smile. The woman she spoke of reminded him of his own mother.

"Great! Then I can change your dressings after that too!" She added before he could counter. "You won't be any good to anyone if your wounds get infected."

…..

"Mummy, I am fine." She reassured her mother once more. Interestingly her father had been the first to ask her whether she was alright. It made her wonder how much he knew, given his contacts in the MOD that worked here. He had asked her again twice after that, which had made her further suspicious.

"Darling, this was meant to be a break for you. Small town, less hectic, slower paced – that was the whole point… are you sure you want to be taking on so much work again?" Her mother sounded concerned. "To be honest, I don't like you being there. You can't stay upset over Mike forever. I think you need to go out on a date or two – and how can you do that if you're hiding in a small town there…?"

"Mum, I think I'm not really…" she groaned quietly, looking up to spot Thorin pouring over some paperwork on his desk. He wore reading glasses, and had his hair tied back now, having pulled on a dressing gown himself. She turned back to face a bookshelf, hoping he would hear less that way.

"What happened to your landline? Are you talking from work?" Her mother asked rather directly.

"Mum! I have had to move out of the cottage, temporarily… um –"

"Oh dear! Are they looking after you?! What happened to the cottage? That sounds awful!"

"No Mum! I'm fine and yes they are –" she squirmed struggling to think on her feet, and suddenly found a small memo note handed to her over her shoulder.

It was Thorin of course:

The cottage needed repairs on the heating system,

and renovations to the bathrooms.

In the meantime you are a guest at Durin Manor,

Where you will be looked after very well.

THIS phone will be the best number to contact you on.

She looked over her shoulder up at him, his large frame looking over her. He stood a little too close, and it made her feel a little hot and bothered.

Taking the note, she nodded, mouthing the words 'thank you', before turning back, only to have one of his large hands settle on her back gently again as he handed her a second note.

Hurry up.

"Okay!" She whispered harshly at him.

"No honey it's not okay! If you're not rested how can you work?" Her mother complained. "All these people think doctors are superhuman, treating you like slaves –"

"Mummy, it's okay. I am a guest at Durin Manor. And this is the number to call. It's just for a short time, until they do some repairs." She interrupted her mothers angry tirade. "I will be back before I know it… look mum I have to go, but I will call you back again in a couple of days. I promise –"

"You'd better! And book your leave for Diwali this October right now please darling. Your cousins are having a big party, and all the family are coming. I expect you there please." Her mother nagged again. "I have emailed you the invite. I will do it again! You can bring any friends you would like. Even a boy –"

"Okay mum! I love you, but I have to go now." She looked over at Thorin, who appeared to be focussing hard on his paperwork again, and ignoring her. But she wondered how much he overheard, and then she shook her head, dismissing the thought, for surely he had little regard for her. He had made that clear the last time they were alone together.

Thorin on the other hand had reread the same paragraph on the document again. He had never been so distracted in his whole lifetime! Focussing hard once more, he attempted to suppress a smile, fiddling with his glasses and pen, while he half listened to her speak with her mother, wondering whether she was able to tell.

"Thorin?" Her voice sounded quiet from opposite him in his study. He couldn't help closing his eyes momentarily, it was so easy to imagine an alternate reality where she lived with him. Calling him to bed each night, just like this. "It's your turn now…"

…..

He growled in pain, pulling away.

"Stop pulling away!" She scolded while cleaning the wound that had opened up.

"It hurts!" He gritted his teeth.

"Don't be such a baby! Hold still!" She cleaned the last of the fresh clotted blood away, removed broken suture material and inspected the wound better. "I'm almost done! Hold – Still!"

"None of this would have happened if you had just done as you were told!" He grabbed the wrist of her offending hand in a tight grip, snarling back at her angrily. He bore straight into her eyes, his blue irides like an angry storm at sea.

"No. None of this would have happened if you had been completely honest with me!" She stared back even though her heart pounded so hard out of her chest, that she imagined he could hear it, and he slowly released her hand.

He could feel it again. She made his blood boil.

He clenched and unclenched his fists, attempting to calm himself down. After spending a lifetime of ruling over the people of his clan with little need to explain his decisions, only taking advice from the councilmen he trusted, it was strange having to explain himself to her!

"I thought the less you knew, the more you would be safe from harm." He quietened, watching her tend to his wounds, as he tried to suppress the need to throw her onto his bed, which was so tantalisingly close.

"That's not how it works. You have to trust someone at some point." She evaded his gaze, although she could feel the heat of it on her. It was partially advice she needed to take herself. After Mike she had been so closed off to the world – this whole place with an air of mystery around it had been the perfect escape from the life she knew, which had become a strange sort of prison in itself. "You have to open your heart up…"

He watched her silently as she carried on.

"That night at the cottage… why didn't you just turn back into a person, when you realised it was me? Why did you attack me?" She had always wondered about that. "I mean – you said that it's not full moon or whatever – that you're in control of your transformation…"

"Sometimes we can't always control ourselves, when we shift. The Wolf within takes over. It's worse when you're new to… shifting." He offered an explanation, but in truth he was ashamed of that night. He had almost completely lost control, and might have forced himself on her or worse, even killed her. There had been no stopping the wolf.

"Is that why… Fili…" she thought back to when he had transformed. He had seemed to barely recognise her.

"Hmmmm." He wondered whether his nephew harboured any feelings towards this woman too.

"Thank you for rescuing me from that place." She connected with his azure stare, where she found his frown, smoothen out.

He had been seated on a chair to one side of his bedroom, when he stood up to tower over her small frame.

"And I am sorry, for how I behaved towards you, that night." His usually stern and expressionless features, were filled with remorse in that moment as he took another step closer to her. "I wrongly accused you of –"

"Yeah, you said of a lot of things." She stopped him mid sentence. His sheer presence so close to her, reminded her of that very evening. And she had been burned by Mike already, her heart just wasn't ready for another battering yet. So she pressed fresh gauze to the deep wound on his chest, that she hadn't finished dressing, making him grunt with pain. Then, peeling the backing off an adhesive dressing she slapped in on the wound harder, making him groan. "You can get dressed now. No need to bandage the rest. You've healed impossibly fast…"

"Aye. Those of us with the ability to shift, heal rapidly too." He turned away to pull a t shirt on, feeling a little hollow. He had expected her to accept his apology, but certainly didn't imagine he would feel this rejected. It was not something he could quite understand.

When he turned back she was tidying away the waste gauze and old dressings she had cut away, her back turned. It made him feel agitated that he was unable to read her.

"You haven't unpacked…? Do you find your room unsuitable?" He attempted again, watching her. She seemed to initially pause very briefly, before continuing. "Would you like some assistance – maybe Helga or my sister –"

"No thank you. I'm okay." She packed up the medical kit as fast as her hands would allow. Of course he would feel obliged to be nice to her; she had just changed his dressings. On the other hand, she felt tired and more vulnerable than ever after all that had happened lately, but there was no need to misread his behaviour for anything more than that. "I think you're good now. Just take it easy with all the lifting and stuff…"

His heart sank a little more as he watched her move faster still towards the door.

"My lady, I truly apologise…"

"Really Thorin, there's no need." She turned at the door to face him, reaching the safety of the door. "Honestly please just forget it."

"If you wish to move bed chambers, please don't hesitate to let me know. And don't feel as though you need to remain in your room, you may wonder throughout Durin Manor as you please – I want you to feel at home here in my halls." He wanted to take her hand, it was a strange new feeling, filling his heart with fear and irritation. After all, he had never felt that way about any other before, but he would not push it tonight. "Feel free to use my study, and my telephone at any time."

She wasn't so comfortable about moving about his home, however palatial it was, at the moment, but there was something else.

"There is something I could do with…" she paused with her hand on the door handle.

"Of course –"

"I want to run again." She turned to look up at him, half expecting him to erupt or deny her request immediately. But to her great surprise, he just looked pained by her request, but nodded anyway.

She had no intention of being stupid about it, if he felt it was not safe, she would accept that, but all the same, if there was a safe way, she would take it.

"Very well." He subconsciously ran his hand over the worst of his wounds that she had dressed recently. It was as if she had just jabbed them, that very moment. "I will have Athol accompany you, and find you some suitably safe routes."

….

"Don't go any further, there's a ravine up ahead!" Athol called urgently from far behind. "Shobha!"

"Got it! Got it!" She called back coming to a stop and doubling over to catch her breath.

When she had asked him whether she could go for a run, instead of hesitating, he had immediately told her he would get changed and meet her at the entrance to Durin Manor in ten minutes. There he had handed her a GPS watch with a route preprogrammed to give directions as they ran, and so she had immediately set off. He had kept up with her, but she imagined he had let her run a few metres ahead, to give her some space. She had picked up the pace in the last twenty minutes, pushing until her lungs had screamed for air.

The terrain had been much easier than the land south of Erebor towards the woods, but still just as pretty. The ravine ahead was deep but narrow, and something signalled alarm bells about it for her. Looking closer she could see the inner walls peppered with perfectly symmetrical pock marks; and then she remembered what Fernando had told her about the soldiers being killed. Perhaps this was that location.

Detaching her water bottle from the carrier on her waist, she took a small sip and looked out across the vista to avoid thoughts of those poor men possibly ripped to shreds by wolves, trapped below. The horizon was filled with a host of colours where patches of grass were replaced with low lying heather, and in the distance another hill was visible, and signs of a town and a road snaking off into the distance, far off to the east.

"What is it that you run from, my lady?" He puffed and panted, coming to stand next to her. "He doesn't understand it, but I can see…"

"I don't know… confusion and turmoil in the mind…? …Bad decisions…?" She found it cleared her head either way. Helped her think clearly. Turning to him, he glanced at her, before looking out into the distance himself.

"He didn't like the thought, but I have convinced him it might be useful; When I train the security team, I take them out this way." Athol carried on, as she noticed he hadn't even broken into a sweat.

"Are those the Iron Hills?" .

"Aye and we will run this route again, because I want you to remember this; the Ravine below is no man's land between their territory and ours. Moment you cross this border you are in their land - and their rules." He spoke as though explaining, but she could tell it was a warning. "Now you know… about us, this is important. We belong to one clan but, each pack is controlled by two different Alphas."

"Alphas?" She frowned at him, not realising how much Wolf they truly were.

"Yes, we are wolves. And Lord Thorin welcomes you, and our pack may be different, perhaps because of our dealings with Dale, but the red wolves of the Iron hills do not approve of outsiders." This time it was a warning. "At all."

She nodded, recalling her encounter with Dain.

"You are not safe until you get across the border. But given things, as they are, you are not safe until you are in Durin Manor." He looked back. "For that reason, I'm showing you the safest trails, and the borders of our lands. But you shouldn't be out here on your own anyway. Is that clear?"

The tone in his voice was clear, and stern. He was like a father admonishing a child, although he was no where near old enough, at least in the way he looked.

"Does that mean I won't be staying back in the cottage –"

"I'm sorry, but no. Did Lord Thorin not inform you this? I personally suggested that you should have a guard at all times now… but he feels you would vehemently oppose that…"

She shook her head, not daring to make eye contact with him, where that name was mentioned, in case her face revealed too much.

She took a long look at the little white dots, that must have been houses built onto the side of the Iron Hills, then glancing back at the giant man in his military running gear, nodded.

"You may not be of the pack – but you belong to us now…"

…..

Oin had insisted she took a few days off to rest, after everything and Dis had suggested that she was given some time off to unpack. She had gone through her undamaged things, and unpacked just enough clothes for two weeks, refusing to consider prospects of remaining in Durin Manor without another run in with Thorin by then. But for the moment he seemed to have remained quite civil.

One evening her mother had called Thorin's office phone, prompting him to fetch her in person from her room. They had shared his office, with him reading over his work, while she had taken the phone call. When she had glanced over, he seemed to have sat there staring down at his work, brooding. But on the whole it hadn't been unpleasant.

She had even started to unwind, enjoying the enormous bath in her en-suite, using up some of the pamper kit that her mother had sent her. Athol had even agreed to two more runs, showing her more of the extent of their boundaries, and the safest routes around Durin Manor

This morning when they had set off on another run, Dwalin had joined her and Athol. He had been fine on the run out, but the return journey seemed to have worn him out more. She imagined he was a fair bit older than Athol, and perhaps as old as Thorin, which had made her wonder how old Thorin was. This, in turn had led her to wonder how old he was. He looked as though he was in his fifties, which made her wonder whether he was older still. And then when she had realised, just how much Thorin had occupied her thoughts, she picked up the pace, in order to drown out her thoughts. And that's when Dwalin had started to struggle.

As they finally made their way along the grand drive that led to the elaborate entrance of the Manor, a distant, but approaching sound of helicopter blades was audible.

She quickened her step, fast approaching the entrance, as Athol kept up, leaving poor Dwalin to be the last to arrive puffing and panting.

Within moments it appeared overhead like a strange mechanical humming bird, the thrum of its blades, being the only sound it made. It was strangely quiet for a helicopter.

Standing there and sipping on her water, while trying to catch her breath with Athol and Dwalin, several sets of footsteps approached from behind them.

"Och lass… ya call this relaxing?!" Dwalin shook his head.

"Well at least she's the one wearing Lycra."

Looking over she spotted Fili had arrived, walking with a limp and a rather ornate looking cane to support him, but wearing a huge grin on his face. It made him look a bit like a rugged gangster from a movie.

"Fili! You're up and about!" She smiled.

"Aye, my Lady," he moved over to stand by her. "Ya didn't think, a little scrape would hold me down did ya?"

"Not for one minute."

"Good morning, my dear." This time it was the very eccentric looking Bilbo, today in a brighter red silk cravat, to clash with his burgundy velvet jacket and his brown cord trousers. "Oin suggested he used a crutch, but of course he is much too vain –"

"Now Master Baggins, I have a fearsome reputation to uphold; besides the cane makes me look like a gangster rapper. Don't you think?" The blonde councilman winked at her.

"I think you need to look a bit more pimp than that, Fili…" Bilbo quipped back, patting his own velvet jacket.

"Oh yeah..? What a bit like you…?" Fili raised an eyebrow.

"I'm very Puff Diddy. Just waiting for my J Lo."

"More like Notorious BAG!" Kili chuckled, as he jostled in beside his brother, and patted Bilbo on the shoulder, watching the smaller made man roll his eyes as though the brothers were still teenagers.

"Miss Seth," Thorin interrupted them as he joined the group.

"Good morning Lord Thorin." She nodded, smiling. His sudden appearance, when she had just returned after her run made her feel self conscious, even though she had spent a couple of evenings in his office when her mother had called her. She hated that it mattered to her, how she looked at that moment; what was she thinking, when he had clearly shown what little interest he had in her.

"Enjoy your run?" He initially just glanced at her, before looking towards the approaching helicopter. The few evenings they had spent in his study, where she had slowly started to let her guard down and converse with her parents while he worked – or rather, pretended to, had felt strangely intimate to him. But he would make every effort to hide it from her, particularly since these feelings were most uninvited.

"Very much so. Thank you." She meant it.

She had a fine perspiration on her brow, her hair was very windswept and she was still breathing a little heavy. He let his eyes roam over her form in her skintight clothing, hoping his face did not reveal any of his thoughts.

"Aye… she's finding new ways to kill us!" Dwalin complained. "We don't take the men running that far, even for training. And then suddenly she'll pick up the pace!"

"Oh sorry, Dwalin – " she began to apologise.

"You joined her freely did you not?" Thorin smiled sympathetically at his dearest friend. He always wondered what she was like when she ran, and now he could start to imagine.

The strange helicopter hovered initially, before slowly lowering down onto the large front lawn.

"He's early for once. Good morning, lass." Lord Balin stepped over to stand beside his brother and after taking one look chuckled. "Och, brother dear – I think you're getting too old to be chasin' after the young lasses!"

"That doesn't sound like a normal helicopter." Shobha watched the brilliantly white helicopter carefully descending. Marked clearly on its side was the word 'Shadowfax', it sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. "Who is that?"

"Aye lass, he has a fully electric helicopter. It was designed by Tesla – one of a kind I believe. At least at the moment. But I think it's the future…" Balin explained, watching as Thorin moved closer.

They were all within the blast created by the steadily spinning blades above.

"I'm sure you've heard of him. Founder and CEO of the major global Thinktank, 'The Grey'. And we're lucky enough to consider him a close friend." Bilbo added looking on. "I actually met Thorin and company through him."

The door of the helicopter opened, and Thorin, stooping below the down beating blades moved closer as a tall fully grey haired figure climbed out. The man, clad in a long, crumpled, grey mac, pulled out a small case which he handed to Thorin after giving him a friendly pat on the back.

"Shadowfax… that sounds familiar." She wondered out loud, certain she had read something about it.

"Yes, he bought a famous prize winning racehorse – a mare named Shadowfax. She was actually very young when he bought her, and supposed to be entered into many races for many years –'

"Oh my gosh! Yes! But he pulled her out of racing, and publicised a whole story on how horses die at the Grand National and other races!"

"He keeps that horse in a three hundred acre sanctuary along with other horses and animals he rescues… and rumour has it that when he calls for her, she comes, no matter how far she is." Bilbo whispered.

Within moments the helicopter lifted up and was disappearing into the distance, as Thorin and the tall shabby looking grey haired man walked over to join the group. She watched in fascination. Thorin looked visibly relaxed around him, as they spoke quietly on their way over, but appeared to stop immediately as soon as they reached the group.

Bilbo ran forward, and received an embrace from the wizened looking man, while the two young Durins received gentle pats on the back. The whole group seemed to have started moving in towards the house, now, and while she was fascinated, truly preferred to have headed straight for the shower first. This was not how she wanted to meet anyone for the first time, but now she felt rude to break away.

His greetings had been warm but brief with all the men in the group, when he made his way to her, as Dwalin and Balin came to flank her either side.

"Please accept my apologies for how ruffled I look. I have just returned from Indonesia; we were discussing ways to manage rebuilding and better warning systems for earthquakes. Terrible thing really. But they are all so pragmatic about it." He smiled softly, and something about him seemed to immediately make her feel at ease. She even forgot that she was all post run, and in Lycra for a moment. He held out his hand. "You must be Dr Seth…"

"Yes…" she shook his hand, surprised how he knew.

"Gandalf." He introduced himself. His brilliantly blue eyes twinkled brightly, filled with kindness and mischief, even though the skin and features around them were cracked with age. "Gandalf Pilgrim. Pleased to meet you..."

….

Dear all,

thank you for following and for your patience with my slow updates.

please keep your thoughts coming - it really makes my day xx

special thank you to:

Smile (guest) - thank you so much! I thought it would be a different concept too - I'm so glad you like it. i get so little feedback lol :) i write at night which makes it creepier in my head than probably comes out on the page, but def more to come on that front! I am also very bad with slow burn, so am running out of patience with these two! Hope you enjoy this chapter too :)