There was no sound on the mountain top except for the wind, the steady snowfall and a feeble little voice that kept mumbling as if to itself, but instead held a one-sided conversation with the big warg sitting a few paces away.

"Stupid," it repeated for what must be the hundredth time. "You were right to leave me. Went out to warn them about the trap and walked right into it myself. Stupid little hobbit. Gandalf was right. Should have stayed where I was. But I wouldn't listen. Stupid people never do."

The animal crouched in front of her, ugly head resting on its outstretched mighty forelegs and watched over her, as it had most likely been told by its new masters.

Not that it would have been necessary.

When Ella had come to she had found herself sitting against a stone wall, with her hands firmly tied up against the railing.

And even if there were no bonds, she doubted she would be able to stand up. Her head swam and hurt ferociously from the blow against her temple, and that she had not dropped right back into unconsciousness was only thanks to that pain, the biting cold- and an indefinite urge not to sleep through what might well be the last hour of her life.

"It was all because of you, of course," she told her former pet. "Because I was so surprised to see you again. Made me careless. But don't think I blame you. I really don't. All my fault. Stupid."

She shook her head and groaned at the pain of it.

The she-warg watched her from her big, blue eyes, seemingly impassive. Sometimes her ( still oddly small )ears twitched, but if she understood a word of what Ella was saying or even listened to her at all was impossible to tell.

Probably not.

And still the hobbit kept talking to her as if she would, she had a lot on her mind and besides, no one else was there.

"Anyway, I'm glad you're alive." she said with a small, sad smile. "Shouldn't have doubted you in the first place. You're a survivor, always have been."

A tear rolled from the corner of her eye and blended with the snowflakes on her face. "I'm so sorry I abandoned you. I didn't want to. You believe me don't you, Precious?"

As expected, there came no answer.

"Well," Ella sniffled. "And here we are. I'd say we're even now, wouldn't you agree?"

A faint howling sounded from the distance and the warg pricked up her ears.

Ella wished she had any way of knowing what was going on on the battlefield, if Gandalf was finally making progress with his promised reinforcements, how Legolas and Tauriel were doing, and most of all, where the dwarves were.

But she didn't. She could only hope they wouldn't come up here to suffer the same fate.

"Is that your friends?" she asked the warg. "I hope you did make friends. Friends are important. Care for the advice of a stupid hobbit? Don't ever let your friends down like I did."

Ella hung her head and another tear rolled down her cold cheek. "And don't fall in love. Love makes stupid people do even more stupid things."

She looked up at the warg again and smiled through her tears. "I wish you were still my friend, Precious, really I do." she whispered. "If you were, I would ask you to try and chew my bonds. Or else, you could just come here and warm me a bit. It's so cold-"

The warg gave a small sound, somewhere between a snort and a sigh, and then tentatively rose to her paws.

Ella's eyes grew wide. Had she really managed to get through to her?

"Yes," she encouraged the animal as it took a cautious step towards her. "Come to me, Precious. Good girl-"

At that moment, Ella heard a low, throaty laugh and the words died in her throat when she recognised the huge figure that stepped forward from behind a rock.

Despite the cold, Azog the Defiler wore only an armored loincloth that showed bare, mighty thighs of the same sickly white color as his scarred face. His mutilated left arm ended in a razor-sharp double blade.

"By all means, continue," he scoffed. "Such a heartwarming scene. Almost moved me to tears."

At the sound of his voice, the warg ducked her head, whimpered and pulled back. Ella released her breath, defeated. So this was it then. The end. All she could still hope for now was a quick death.

But it was a strange thing, hope. It wouldn't leave her, not even now, in the most hopeless of situations. Death, however quick or clean it may be, was final and irrevocable.

Ella didn't want to die.

But she would be damned if she showed this monster any sign of fear. She turned her head to the side and spat into the snow.

"Now now, such a cold welcome." Azog took a step towards her, the wicked grin still carved into his scary features. "And after all the efforts I took to see you again. Did you like Bolg? I'm sorry he had to leave for now, he was eager to meet with the Elven scum you brought along. Don't worry, he'll be back in no time. And now that I have you, your lover Oakenshield and his wretched kin will soon follow, and then we shall have a lovely little family meeting."

Ella suppressed a shudder and forced her teeth to stop chattering. "If you think, Thorin will come for me, you're wrong," she said. "He sent me away. He- we- it's over. We're over."

"Is that so?" Azog raised non-existent eyebrows and the smile on his face turned into an expression of fake sympathy. "How sad. But I think he will come any way. If not for you, then certainly for me. We still have a score to settle, he and I."

He moved even closer and the gaze of his cold, bright reptile eyes travelled over her body.

"But since you're no longer a couple, maybe you would like to experience the pleasure of being with a real man."

His smile grew broader and exposed his sharp, pointy teeth. "We could let him watch. And who knows, you might even like it."

His hot, foul breath brushed her face and Ella couldn't help but flinch in fear and disgust.

Azog chuckled lowly. "But then, I don't think so. You're such a tiny, fragile thing. No, I'm afraid you wouldn't survive long enough to actually enjoy it."

Ella tried hard to keep herself from sobbing. "A great warrior you are to threaten a helpless woman in chains " she managed with trembling lips.

The pale orc raised frowned. "You're right. How rude of me."

He bent forwards and, with a quick movement of the blade he wore for a hand, cut her bonds. "Better?"

Instantly, Ella's hand flew to the sword on her side, and then, realising it was no longer there ( of course not! Did she really think Azog's minions would forget to disarm her?) to her coat's pocket in search of the magic ring.

With a harsh laugh, Azog got back on his feet.

His healthy hand reached into his loincloth and he produced a small, shiny object and held it up for her to see. "Looking for this?" he sneered. "I took the liberty of securing it while you were asleep. I have a feeling my master will be most interested in it."

Ella gasped. The monster had her ring!

All of a sudden, she felt how her desperation gave way to a cold fury. It felt oddly liberating. And certainly, much better than fear.

"Your master?" she repeated, her voice dripping contempt.

A picture flared up in her mind's eye and she remembered the words of the dragon about a darkness that would spread all over the land, and then Gandalf''s, about an ancient evil lurking in the ruins of Dol Guldur.

"And here I thought you were acting on your own account. Why, I should not be surprised. Every beast needs a keeper, right? Tell me about him. A huge, burning eye, if I remember correctly?"

Azog narrowed his eyes, visibly taken aback. "What would you know about the eye?" he hissed.

"Oh, I know a lot of things." Ella struggled to sit up and rubbed her aching wrists. "Smaug told me about it. The dragon in the Erebor, remember? We had a little chat, he and I. Before we killed him, that is."

The pale orc snorted. "That was not your doing."

Ella shrugged her tense shoulders. "Well, we were eyeball to eyeball and now he's dead and I'm still here, that's all I'm saying. Maybe you should take me to that master of yours so I can talk to him, too. For starters, tell him how ugly and incompetent his servants are-"

It was quite satisfying to see the pale orc's face distort with rage.

She smiled. "You know what, forget what I said earlier. Thorin will come for you. And this time, he will take more than just your arm."

A horn sounded beneath them and Azog's features relaxed into a smirk.

"Nasty little wretch," he said almost tenderly. "You almost had me there. But now you will have to excuse me for a moment. I believe, my other guests have finally arrived."

He turned around to the sight of two orcs who came stomping up the stairs to the watchtower, a fiercely struggling captive between them.

Blonde hair clung in sweaty tangles to his pale, blood-stained face.

Ella jumped to her feet, ignoring the glaring pain in her head at the sudden movement. "Fili-" she cried out.

The young Durin heir raised his eyes to her, the expression in them one of utter despair.

No. This couldn't be happening. She had to stop it. She had to-

Ella stumbled forwards, but before she could reach the prince, the two orcs pushed him off and right into the arms of Azog, who walked unhurriedly towards the railing, his helpless victim in tow.

"Oakenshield," his roaring voice echoed from the rocks around him. "Watch the end of your wretched kin. This one comes first, then his brother, and you- you will die last."

In the shocked silence that followed Ella heard Fili gasp out a single word. "Run."

"No!"

She leapt towards the pale orc but his two henchmen stopped her halfway to her target and held her firmly in place, with her arms behind her back.

Immobilized like this, Ella could do nothing but watch in incredulous horror as Azog raised his mutilated arm and drove the sharp blade at its stump deep into Fili's back, then pushed the dwarf prince over the edge of the railing.

She heard a terrible thud when the body hit the ground and then a long, tormented wail she didn't even recognize as her own.

And in the distance, the sound of Azog's hateful, crowing laughter.