Saruman stood a respectable distance from the palantir. He was as stiff as a board and wrung tight with tension. As if Olorin's watchful eye weren't annoying enough, now this one girl could ruin absolutely everything.

"You should never have awoken her gift... it'll only continue to grow," he ground out through his teeth.

"Are you questioning my judgment?!" The fiery eye gazing back at him through the crystal orb, glowing brighter and forcing Saruman to take a step back.

"Of course not," he bowed his head respectfully, attempting to sooth his angry lord. "I merely am curious as to why you did such a thing. Did we not hope to keep her from knowing who-what she is?"

"The Child would have learned eventually... now it is I who awoke her powers, something she may yet remember."

"But she is not our ally. Why did you not just kill the Balrog Slayer?" He knew he was pushing his luck, but at the moment he also knew that he was too valuable of an ally for Sauron to dispose of- yet.

"He was marked by her," the voice sounded almost contentious. "She may not be my ally, but she is yet to be my enemy. Her gift is weak for now... we should not push her for she may yet learn more."

"And I thought there was no room for opposition in this new world we are to craft?"

"Opposition- no. Allies- perhaps, if they are of the right strength."

"You should kill her before she can grow any stronger."

The glowing eye suddenly blazed brighter than before, forcing Saruman to shield his own eyes with his arm as the voice shook his tower, rattling bottles and knocking books to the floor.

"You speak of 'we' as if we are one... all the way until you ask to kill Her. Are you volunteering for the task? If you wish it so, do you think yourself capable? By all means... be my guest," those last words came out as a dangerous hiss and Saruman, having enough self preservation to know when to stop, bowed his head low.

"My- my apologies my Lord," he forced the words out through a clenched jaw. "Such is not a task that I am suited for."

"As I thought," Sauron seemed pleased enough as the flame of his eye dimmed to a tolerable brightness. "You will carry out your assigned tasks and leave the Child to me. Now, the Gray Wizard?"

"Taken care of," Saruman couldn't help but smile at the thought of his old "friend" who always considered himself so much better... more holy and wise... and his new predicament. He had wanted to do such a thing to the annoying Maiar for centuries.

"And the Thing?"

"Ah, I have your information," he smoothly transited back into the precarious position he held with his fellow fallen Maiar. Sauron needed him so long as his only form was his eye and a brief shadow which took an extreme amount of his energy to project. He knew his value... he knew what games he had to play in order to get what he wanted.

"So tell me," Sauron's voice turned to a dark purr. "Where is my ring?"

Evelyn woke to a loud growl from Nightshade. In a flash, she was on her feet with her knives in hand. One quick sweep of the horizon however warned her that her knives wouldn't be enough. A massive hoard of orcs was barreling towards her, urged on by the light shade of darkness still lingering from the fading night. The wargs at the front of the hoard had already caught her and Nightshade's scent, and there was no way for them to outrun the beasts. While it would technically be possible for Evelyn to fly away from them, she would never be able to carry Nightshade with her. She was not leaving Nightshade to the creatures.

This left one option.

Sheathing her knives, Evelyn stepped in front of Nightshade and took a deep breath, drawing far within herself. She closed her eyes and remembered her terror, her desperation, and her grief. She pulled forth memories of screaming and pleading with the Mirkwood guards, of Thranduil's dismissive smirk, of the arrow piercing Nightshade's side and of Glorfindel's betrayal which still stung like a fresh knife wound. She pulled on her anger and her delightful rage as she remembered Thranduil's cries of pain as her arrows pierced him, the terror in his eyes as she light him aflame, and the raw pain in Legolas' face as he realized what she had done.

She focused her mind on these images and felt the smoldering ember within her grow to a raging inferno. She yanked on that raging fire and drew forth as much of the energy as she could, shooting it outward to envelope the oncoming hoard. The beasts shrieked as the blazing white light cut through them like a massive blade, slicing the foul beasts in twine.

One blast was all it took.

They were all dead.

Evelyn barely had enough time to comprehend this before she was swaying on her feet. Her powers always took a lot from her, and she found herself collapsing onto Nightshade's back. Her wolf whimpered slightly and nudged at Evelyn's face, lapping at the girl's cheek with her long tongue. Evelyn tried to comfort her friend, one hand half raising in an attempt to stroke the wolf's face.

"I- I'm... okay..." she was practically riding Nightshade at this point. "Don't worry- Shade... I'll- I'll be..."

When she blinked, the world briefly went black.

Nightshade watched Nightwing swaying and frowned deeply. Nightwing was injured... and not in the normal way. No, her friend was wounded for she had drained herself too far. This had become a more and more common occurrence, and Nighshade was worried. It couldn't be good for the girl to continue to use her powers until she collapsed day after day. Nightshade feared that one of these days, she wouldn't awaken.

With newfound determination, Nightshade carefully scooped the girl onto her back and began walking at a slow pace. She didn't bother checking on the orcs as she knew that they were all surely dead. The direction that Nightwing picked however, would bring them close to the mountain of the Short-folk. She knew that Nightwing usually wished to avoid them, but there was a hollow tree that they had stayed in several times before. The tree had enough space for Nightwing to lay down in, but the entrance was small enough for Nightshade to guard. There, she would be able to watch over Nightwing until the girl recovered.

She stood guard all day. By the time the sun was high, she grew thirsty and knew of a nearby stream, but she resisted the tempting call of the waters. She wouldn't leave Nightwing alone, not when she was so vulnerable. As the day grew later and later however, Nightshade grew in worry. Her friend had never been asleep for so long before, and she was worried why she had yet to recover.

It wasn't until the next day the Nightwing awoke, still weak and shaky, Nightshade managed to nudge the girl onto her back so that she could carry her to the nearby stream. Both drank their fill and Nightshade even managed to find a berry bush for Nightwing to get a small meal. As much as Nightshade wanted to stay in the little tree hollow until Nightwing recovered, the girl insisted on them moving for she thought it dangerous to stay in one place too long. Thus, onward Nightshade walked with her close friend sitting on her back.

Now, Nightshade would never admit it, but each time Nightwing gave her a direction she gradually adjusted her route. Nightwing was far too exhausted to notice, but they were little by little moving towards their usual meeting spot with White-beard. She knew that the girl wouldn't want to ask for help... she knew that she would never actually ask for help. But, she also knew that he could giver her care that she couldn't provide and he had proved trustworthy thus far... plus he was scared of her so she knew that he wouldn't try anything funny.

When they finally arrived at the meeting spot, Nightwing immediately caught on.

"You did this on purpose, didn't you?" Her tone was a tad bit accusatory, but she was far to exhausted to put any aggression into it.

"He can help you," she responded. Then, in a matter of fact tone, she added in, "he is nice and he doesn't like the pup-killers."

"He may not even show up."

"I can already smell him."

"How far?" Her voice had a tad bit of alarm in it, but Nightshade could sense the relief.

"You should be able to hear is terrible singing soon."

Just as she said so, Nightwing looked up as White-beard approached in the distance. He waved and called out cheerfully as soon as he saw them, hurrying up the last small stretch of his walk. When he got closer however, he noticed the way that Nightwing sat slumped upon Nightshade's back and he hesitated for a moment.

"Morning Lass," his voice was always a bit irritating to Nightshade's sensitive ears, but she was nonetheless pleased to see him. "Can't help but notice you look like you've been dragged amongst the orcs."

"A hoard, a half day's journey south from here. You'll find their corpses," Nightwings replied calmly, ignoring White-beard's comments.

"That group?! We've been watching them for half a season now. There must have been... how did you-" he paused and looked at the anger emerging on Nightwing's face. "Oh never mind. I ain't asking."

It was too late. Nightshade knew that her friend realized how close she was to getting caught. That hoard would have most certainly been impossible for any normal individual to kill. It was only her gift that allowed them to survive and it was her gift that she was determined to maintain a secret.

"If that'll be all, I shall take my leave," Nightwing urged Nightshade to turn and walk away, her voice turning that cold and lifeless candor as she retreated back within herself. Nightshade was all too familiar with that tone, it was the tone she used all those years ago when she first picked up Nightshade as a pup in the woods of the pup-slayers.

"Wait-" he called, holding out a hand. "There- there is something that I was meaning to talk to you about. Things are getting more and more dangerous these only reason why King Dain has allowed me to continue to venture out on my own is the knowledge that you bring me of our enemies. Each time he asks me to take an escort, but I have a feeling you wouldn't like that."

Nigthshade could feel Nightwing stiffen.

"If you can no longer meet with us then I understand," Nightwing again urged Nightshade to move, but the wolf knew that White-beard wasn't finished speaking.

"Then come with me."

Nightwing froze, holding her breath.

"Come- come live in the Lonely Mountain amongst the dwarves. We Durin-folk are trustworthy enough. Times are dangerous and you shouldn't be alone out here, not even with your wolf."

Nightshade growled lightly in appreciation, turning her head backwards to face Nightwing.

He offers us shelter, safety from the orcs.

And you think that you could live beneath a mountain, crawling through tunnels and never seeing the sky? Nightwing sounded generally unimpressed.

I- I am unsure... but we cannot continue as we do. That last battle nearly drained your strength.

I have been imprisoned deep below ground long enough, if I cannot fly then I cannot breath.

Nightshade sighed, but nodded in understanding. Before them, White-beard was still speaking, babbling on about his lovely mounting home and how comfortable is peoples were.

"Of course, King Dain would want to speak with you, but he would certainly allow-"

"No," Nightwing's voice was sharp. "I- I cannot."

"Please," he lowered his voice in an attempt to make his gruff tone gentle. "Dain is a good and fair king and his questions would just be to assure the safety of-"

"I cannot," she paused and took a deep breath. Nightshade could feel the girl's apprehension and she did her best to send warm waves of comfort towards her. "I- I thank you for your friendship, but if you can no longer venture here to meet alone then I regret that this shall be our last meeting."

White-beard sighed heavily, but he seemed more so resigned than surprised. It seemed that he had seen this result coming.

"I don't understand you Lass, and I doubt that I will. But, I can accept that you're as stubborn as and dwarrowdam. I may not be outside the mountain alone for some time, but I won't say this is our last meeting. Mahal is funny about things such." With those words, he reached into his pack and pulled out a pouch. "One last gift then, for now."

Nightwing took the pouch hesitantly an opened it, finding two items. One was a cloak, thickly woven and clearly tailored to approximate Nightwing's size. The other, a heavy dagger, wrought with elegant metal twisting and sitting in a sheath with a wide belt.

"The belt should fit your wolf, I figured since most dwarves have a spare blade they keep on their pony, your mount deserves its own."

Nightshade bared her teeth in what she hoped the short-folk would interpret as a friendly gesture. She was indeed glad at the idea of carrying a spare weapon for Nightwing to use. A spare blade in general would be much appreciated as the girl still used her knives stolen from the pup-slayers.

"I made the blade myself, that signal on the pommel is mine. Show it to any dwarf you meet and they'll know you're a friend of Gloin."

"I- thank you," Nightwing managed.

White-beard then explained that it was getting late and that he would have to return to the Mountain, so he bid them farewell and left.

For a while after that, Nightwing examined both the blade and cloak, running her fingers across the surfaces of each with a slightly misty look in her eyes. Nightshade could sense the bittersweet sorrow that filled her at not being able to accept White-beard's offer. The idea of living underground and answering questions from another king was just too much... they would have to find another way to safety.

"Nightwing, we cannot continue this way."

"We have to."

"You have still barely recovered. Next time you might not ever."

"The south is closer to Mordor, it is even more wrought with his filth. What choice so we-"

"Should we not at least see the offer?"

"I thought you didn't trust him?"

"I don't."

Although Nightwing still sat atop Nightshade's back, she could practically hear the frown spreading across the girl's face.

"Fine, we will look."

"And then?"

"We will see from there."

Nightshade nodded and began walking east to the direction that Sauron indicated. According to him, they would find a virtual paradise, devoid of any of his foul creatures. Now Nightshade hated the Fierything. She could feel his evil seeping off of him and her fur stood on end every time he drew close. She could feel him always, in the background, the dark hum of his gaze blanketed the landscape.

If they could find a way to escape from him... then maybe Nightwing would be able to find peace at last.