Evening was upon them. Bilbo watched as the sun swept its final rays across the base of the canyon before disappearing behind the ridged back of the faraway mountains. He felt cozy, nestled as they were on a stretch of flatland bordered by rocky hills of all shapes and sizes. There was even a bit of vegetation here and there amongst the pale sand, and a pristine pond reaching out from beneath a craggy outcrop. He had been delighted to find tiny, translucent tadpoles rushing about beneath its surface. When he dipped his hand beneath the water, they had danced around his fingers. Lucky things, he had thought to himself. They knew nothing of the world, sheltered, as they were, in the middle of nowhere.

The Lonely Mountain stood tall in the distance. They still had quite a ways to go. But it remained fixed in his peripherals, sometimes disappearing behind trees, other times looming sharp and sudden when the land fell away and their path became clearer. It was hard to believe that a dragon lay coiled there upon mountains of gold and that they were on their way to kill it. The purity of the scenery of the past few days had been treacherous in making him believe that everything would work out in their favor.

Now, he let the back of his head rest upon Nadi's chest. He could hear her muttering to herself as she maneuvered strands of his hair this way and that. She gave a sudden jerk and he jumped, subsequently bumping the top of his head against her chin.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed. "Careful, will you? That there is a highly precious crop you're dealing with!"

He glanced back and saw that she had a length of twine clamped between her teeth. She hissed and made him face the other way. "Highly sensitive," she said. "I'll have you know, Master Baggins, that when I was a baby my mother picked me up by a fistful of hair and swung me around the cabin. All because she thought that she'd seen a spider and decided that it would be a good idea to use me to hit it."

"Well, I hardly believe that."

"Doesn't matter. The purpose of the story was to get you to sit still for a moment. And look at that!" She gently tugged a thinly woven braid from the back of his head and pulled it around his chin for him to see. He turned, and at the same time managed to pull the braid away from her fingers. She moaned and clamped her hands on the sides of his face. "All is lost, Bilbo, if I can't even get your hair in proper order. How are you going to fight a dragon, then, with all them curls waving about your face?"

"You're one to talk, lassie," Bofur said as he walked towards them. "Have you seen yourself lately? Perhaps we should abandon all thoughts of slaying the dragon with weapons and let it get tangled up in your hair instead." He placed two bowls of something watery and steaming in front of them. She leaned over the bowl and surveyed it with a curled lip.

"Or, perhaps, let you talk it to death. What's this, then?"

Bofur puffed out his chest. "Wild cabbage, garnished with freshly chopped radish, a few sprigs of lemongrass, lettuce-"

"Let us what?" She said distractedly.

"-and lightly roasted potato. Gathered and prepared by yours truly." Bofur bowed and then winked at Bilbo. "At least, that's what I think I gathered."

"That's good and all, but where's the meat?" Dwalin asked as he poked his finger in his bowl. Bilbo took a sip of the soup and gagged surreptitiously.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I must have left it on that giant rock when we were being chased by the Pale Orc."

"Indeed you did."

"No, no, no-" Nadi interjected hurriedly. "This may be a good thing. I heard tell from the matron of my old quarters that eating plants is a good thing. It's called...living food."

"Living what?!" Ori exclaimed. He poked Bifur and leaned in to whisper. "Has she gone mad again?"

"Listen to me," she said sternly. She tore up a tangle of weeds from beneath her feet. She held it out reverently and the Company leaned forward expectantly. "Plants like this have...internal systems that are alive, even after you eat it. So when you eat them and your stomach digests them...it makes you...even more alive! Because you're eating their internal systems!"

They gasped and nodded at her wisdom. Balin clapped her on the back and proclaimed her to be a very wise lass, indeed. She settled back against the rock and crossed her arms in a very self-satisfied manner. But Dwalin was having none of it. He snatched the weeds from her hand and held them up to a scrutinizing eye.

"What use is eating a living thing if I'm not dead? Seems like a remedy for those already in their grave."

Now, the Company gasped at his wisdom. Balin slapped her on the shoulder again and proclaimed, in a woeful voice, that he was retracting his previous statement. Her arms fell by her side and she stared at Dwalin with distaste.

"Well, I hardly think it'd work on you. You have enough meat and ale in your stomach to kill anything that comes tumbling down your gullet," she found her strength again and squared her shoulders defiantly. "From here on out, I shall only eat living things. And you may hold true to that."

"Very well, then. We'll leave you to your whims," Thorin said as he passed them by. He cast Bilbo a mischievous grin as he dug around his pocket and then produced a single slab of dried meat. "Bombur! Catch!"

Nadi's eyes followed the meat as it flew through the air. Then, much to everyone's amusement, she shot up and caught it between her teeth.

"No! I take it back, I take it back!" She squealed as she hunched over her prized possession. "I won't eat living things! Only dead meat from here on out!"

Bilbo laughed as he watched a group of twelve hungry Dwarves descend upon her like madmen. There was something special about the moment. He felt as if he was back home in the Shire, watching the antics of his ale-laden brethren. Indeed, he felt as if at any moment another Hobbit would pop out from beneath one of the stone outcrops and demand that they all be quiet, for goodness sake! For a brief, comfortable moment he allowed himself to think that their journey would always be like this: lighthearted, peaceful as if the worst was already behind them.

Nadi emerged from the scuffle with wild eyes and a few select curses for her fellow Dwarves. As they watched in terror, she shook her head like a rabid dog and bared her teeth at them.

"Curse your mother," she said, pointing as flecks of meat shot from her mouth. Her beard had already begun to grow back. She kept it strewn in two neat braids on either side of her mouth, with a ring adorning the bottom of each one. "And curse your mother, and curse your mother-"

The rest of her words were drowned out as they hefted her above their shoulders and began to spin her around, singing a song in Khuzdul that Bilbo understood the bare gist of. Thorin came to stand by him and together they watched, smiling, as the Dwarves carried her to the pond and threw her in. She reemerged, gasping, as they tumbled around the pond, jeering and laughing at her predicament.

"Mahal save me from the stench of Dwarves!" She cried out before ducking under the water.

"Stench?" Fili cried out in offense.

"There's only one thing to do about that." Kili tossed off his boots and pulled his shirt over his shoulders. As Nadi watched in horror, the twelve Dwarves began to undress and splash into the water. She screamed and scrambled out as fast as she could. The sight of her dragging her waterlogged cloak from the clutches of the pond was hilarious and Bilbo fell back laughing.

"Aw, what's wrong, Nadi?" Kili cooed as he splashed about. "Nothing you haven't seen before! Why don't you join us!"

"You lot will muck up the water in no time," she huffed as she hurried past Bilbo and Thorin. "I'm off to find my own pond with peace and serenity and less Dwarves!"

X

After much exploring and climbing over boulders, Nadi eventually found her pond. It was a tiny thing made murky by silt, but it was nestled in a grove of trees and afforded protection by the yawning caves that surrounded it. It would have to do.

She eased her cloak off of her shoulders and stood shivering in her undergarments. Night was still fighting for its place against the remnants of day, and the shy moon had not yet shown its face. The world around her was dusky, lit here and there by fireflies twinkling in the fog. She let her feet down gently into the water and braced them against a log. It was so smooth and slimy that her feet slipped quite a few times. She fell back onto her bottom and kicked out against its surface. It dipped slightly and she assumed that the wood within was rotten.

"What's this?" She wondered aloud as she bent down to prod at its surface. It gave another dip and a ripple as she dragged her finger along the top of it. Though she couldn't see past the silt, she could feel a pattern there that repeated along its length. It felt distinctly reptilian.

That was no good.

The log shifted and began to rise before she could move away. She was lifted in the air with her feet braced upon the creature's back as it dislodged itself from the sand. Higher and higher it rose until she was forced to throw herself down and straddle its sides. Its broad, crowned head was unveiled beneath a tangle of slippery weeds as it turned back to look at her. It was a dragon of sorts, but grossly misshapen and ten times her size. Its pupil narrowed to a slit in it its lemon yellow iris while simultaneously it unfurled a set of terrible, translucent wings. Thinking quickly, she slithered forward along its back and curled her finger into its ear holes as it began to pump its wings.

"Steady," she pleaded in a desperate voice. "Steady. I don't want any tr-"

The creature threw itself out of the pond and bucked forward. She was slung across its head and landed on the narrow bridge of its snout. For a moment, they were eye-to-eye as murky pond water cascaded from between its lips. Then she lost hold and fell, twisting and clutching, to the ground.

Damn it all, she thought as she pushed herself onto her feet and began to run. She had made a rookie mistake in traveling so far without a weapon.

She glanced behind her and noticed, for the first time, the thickness of the creature's haunches. It's a leaper, she realized with dismay. It lowered its chest to the ground, wiggled its bottom, and pounced just as she ducked away.

The creature crashed into the trees behind her. The trunks snapped thunderously around it as it squirmed its backside in an effort to dislodge itself from the avalanche of branches and debris. She crawled away on all fours and backed into a boulder, her heart thundering. Luckily for her, the creature was quick only in body, not in mind. It stood there shaking its head and sniffing the air, unaware of the fact that she was still behind it. But the lashing tail was an issue. It spun around and she jumped up on instinct. The boulder that she had been leaning against was split in two.

Hearing the commotion and alerted by the sound of her footsteps, the creature began to thrash its tail blindly. She jumped and bounded about, always a few seconds before the tail could whip her off of her feet.

She wanted to shout for the others but she had left them long ago. It was unlikely that they would reach her in time. The effort that it took to evade the creature's tail was beginning to weigh on her. She stumbled. The tapered end of the tail swished across her ankles, causing blood to bubble along her skin.

"Mahal," she cried, "help! Help me!"

She was blown back by the wind generated by the pounding of the creature's wings. She crawled backward, her eyes never leaving its spit-strung jaws, until her hand found something wedged within the dirt. She yanked it out of the squelching mud and swung it at the creature. The old branch caught it square in the eye and it retreated a few steps, hissing. She rushed to her feet and braced the branch in front of her. Come on, she thought to herself as the creature lowered its chest to the ground again, come on, give me all you got!

The creature sprang at her. She thrust the branch vertically within its mouth. The branch immediately got caught between the roof of its mouth and the top of its throat. She grunted as she pushed it in deeper, her face singed by the heat of its cavernous mouth. Its many teeth grazed her skin but she was resolved to see the battle through to the end.

By some strange inkling, a prickling of the skin, she cast her gaze over her shoulder. There, partially hidden within the shadows cast by the trees, was a woman. Her eyes glittered like silver coins as she stepped into the moonlight. Tattered scarves and remnants of an old cloak hung about her shoulders. There was an inky blackness that spread from her forehead to her blanched cheeks. Everything about her set Nadi on edge: her lack of expression, the deliberate way in which she moved, the large makeshift weapon in her hand. But more than that-

Their eyes met and Nadi recognized the visage of yet another foe.

It was Iree, the witch from her nightmares. But it couldn't be. Iree was dead. She had killed herself before Nadi's very eyes.

Her arms were still straining against the branch in the creature's mouth. The woman began to move forward, gathering speed as she moved through the clearing. She swung her weapon - a sharpened stone tied upon the staff's tip - high above her head and Nadi reached out with one arm to deflect her blow. With one hand in the creature's mouth and the other on the woman's wrist, she heaved both ways with all of her might. Then, realizing that a choice had to be made, she withdrew her arm from the creature's mouth, clasped her fists, and swung her elbow into the woman's stomach.

The creature roared and the branch snapped between its teeth. The two women stared at each other - Nadi, wearing an expression full of rage and the woman's face blank- before Nadi punched her under the chin. The woman stumbled back and Nadi used the moment to wrestle the staff from her hand. She could sense the creature preparing to pounce.

"Sorry," she said to the woman. Then with a swiftness borne on instinct, she threw herself onto her back in the pond and thrust the staff upright in the air.

The creature sprang again. Its soft, grey underbelly was split upon the rough-hewn edge of the weapon. The woman ducked away, just as the creature crashed into the spot where she had been standing. It stretched its limbs with a desperate whine before falling still upon the ground.

Nadi scrambled to her feet, the weapon held aloft between her and the mysterious woman. She stood a moment, panting and considering her options, before casting the weapon behind her.

"Very well then," she said and raised her fists, "I'll make this fair. Put 'em up!"

The woman glided towards her with an unearthly speed. The first punch almost knocked Nadi off of her feet. She snapped her head back down and responded with a sharp jab into the woman's exposed chest. Nadi used the height discrepancy to her advantage and aimed her attacks upwards, towards the woman's ribs. But the woman had come upon the same idea. She crooked her leg and shoved her knee into the side of Nadi's face. Nadi stumbled, steadied herself, and parried the next blow with the back of her forearm. There would be bruises, but Nadi liked it that way. The thrill of fighting for her life was upon her. She smiled mischievously as she ducked and dodged around the woman, landing several satisfying punches as she did so. Blood dripped from the woman's lip, but still, her keen, blank eyes remained fixed on Nadi's face. The hunger of a predator in pursuit of its prey animated her as she fought hand-to-hand with Nadi.

Then, perhaps with the intent to spear Nadi into the ground, the woman bent at the waist. Recognizing an opening, Nadi launched herself at the woman and wrung her arm around the neck. She pulled backward with all of her weight and slung the woman into the pond. Quickly, she rolled away and struggled to her feet. For the first time, a strange look seemed to break through the woman's stony countenance. She wasn't angry or even frightened. She seemed amused.

The woman lifted her hand. Nadi jumped back, expecting to be hit when suddenly a white-hot pain erupted in her calf. She was yanked off of her feet and dragged backward through the dirt. She twisted around to find that the creature was awake, and had one of its fangs lodged in her leg. Her mouth fell open around an unuttered cry as she turned back around to face the woman. What black magic is this, Nadi thought as the creature's fang sank deeper into her leg. Had the creature obeyed the woman's unspoken command?

The creature wrenched its head and Nadi sputtered. "Who...are you?" She struggled to speak, as the creature's paw was crushing her chest. The woman knelt before her and surveyed her face with interest.

"Ana," she said in a hoarse whisper. Ana. Nadi knew that name. But from where? The woman brushed a strand of hair away from Nadi's forehead and frowned. "You?"

"Nadi. It seems as if you've won, Ana. For now." Nadi coughed and winced against the pain. "Believe me, I will climb tooth and nail out of my grave to find you again."

"No," Ana said. She placed two fingers against Nadi's eyelids and pressed them close. "Not yet," was the last thing that she heard the woman say before she fell into a forced slumber.

X

Nadi woke to the sight of several Dwarves peering curiously down at her. She jumped and looked around her, but the creature and the mysterious woman were nowhere to be seen. Fili grabbed her beneath her arms and lifted her to her feet. Her head began to spin immediately and she closed her eyes.

"There you are. It's alright, put your arm around me. Steady." He brushed the dirt away from her clothes. "What happened?"

"Sleeping on the job," Thorin said as he stormed past them. He kept his eyes on the moon as he made his way through the clearing. Judging by its position in the sky, three hours had passed since she had left them. "Let's go. We've missed out on enough rest."

"Thorin, something's wrong," Kili said, watching her face. Her leg throbbed and she dropped down with a hiss. She pressed her hand against her pants, feeling around for a wound.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, kneeling in front of her.

She shook her head against her tears and rolled the bottom of her trouser along her leg. A thick white cloth had been wrapped with expert precision around her calf where the creature had bitten her. Blood bloomed along the creases of it, but otherwise, she felt better than she would have expected. Bilbo let out a gasp and quickly covered his mouth. Thorin turned to face her.

"What happened here?"

"A fight, by the look of it," Dwalin said. He was standing over the splintered tree trunks. He touched a wet spot on the ground and rubbed his fingers together. "Blood," he said, "but not hers. Some kind of beast?"

"Over here!"

The Company shuffled over to Gloin. Nadi braced herself against Fili and limped over to where they were standing. There, still smoldering upon a burnt collection of twigs and branches, was a pile of fresh meat. Each piece was cut into a modest square and charred evenly on each side.

"By my beard…" someone said.

Nadi lurched forward and closed her eyes. She recognized the glittering cerulean sheen beneath the charred layers. It was the flesh of the creature, cooked to perfection and portioned out evenly. Its head lay a few paces away, its tongue laying limp upon its lips and its eyes glossed over with white. She was reminded of the mysterious woman - Ana - and she glanced around once again.

Thorin was still watching her. He had noticed her surreptitious glance and was intrigued by it. He placed a block of meat down carefully and beckoned her over. "Speak," was all that he said when she was close enough to hear him.

Understanding that this was a moment meant to be shared in private, the Dwarves stepped away and began to pick and pack away at the crackling meat, all the while exclaiming over its quality and tantalizing smell.

Nadi rubbed her neck anxiously and swallowed. Thorin had known her family since she was a wee babe. Though his duties as a prince - and then a king - had cut a distance between them as she aged, she was right in suspecting that he still understood her in a way that her other kinsmen did not.

"I came here to bathe," she said quietly. "And I encountered a...thing. It was dragon-like but small, and ill-proportioned. I was able to fight it off but I injured my leg in the process. I didn't want to let its flesh go to waste and I knew that our supplies were low, so I cut it up and I cooked it, on the off chance that it was eatable."

"And then you took your rest."

Nadi bit her lip at his jesting tone. "Aye, I did."

"You're lying to me."

Of course, he knew that, too. Her eyes traveled everywhere but his face. She wished that one of the others would come up and whisk her away on some silly pretense or notion. But they were too busy preparing for their departure and straining their ears at their conversation. He sighed. He kept his eyes on her, a paternal wariness showing through his worn face.

"That's not like you. At least not to my knowledge."

"You're right," she said. "I'm sorry. There was a woman. She...was odd. The top of her face was blackened, as if by coal. And she just watched while I fought the beast." Nadi gave a heavy sigh, hoping that he wouldn't speak on the tension of worry creeping along her cheeks. "Thorin, I didn't want you to think that I was crazy."

"You feared that I would? Why?"

"Because she reminded me of the witch, Iree."

He lifted his head and peered at her over the bridge of his nose. His lips parted, as if he was going to say something, then closed.

"I trust that your reason for holding your tongue is greater than the demand for the truth to be spoken," he finally said. "I understand that you may have reason to doubt me. But know this: I trust you with my life, woodland warrior. We stand back-to-back in this war that we have waged upon the dragon. I will not see you fall," he grasped her neck and pulled her forehead in to meet his. "Find me when you are ready to talk more about this...woman."

He turned and rallied the Dwarves in a sharp tone. Bags heavy and stuffed to the brim with newly acquired food, they set off in a single line back to their original campsite. Nadi lingered towards the back, hopping gingerly along on her injured leg. There was no pain now, just the expectation of pain that was the residual wound from her battle. She hadn't known why she couldn't tell Thorin about her true encounter with the woman. Something about her meeting with the woman and subsequent fight had been intimate and exciting. It was a private thing that Nadi wanted to safeguard and hideaway, like a stolen sweet hidden beneath layers of old clothes. Throughout the night, she thought of the woman's face and the swiftness with which she had moved. The image of her eyes and pale hands as she wielded her makeshift weapon was still exhilarating enough to make Nadi's heartbeat tenfold.

Deep down inside, she hoped that she would one day meet the woman again.