Chapter 3

It was while Bilbo and his guard were sharing their stories of different encounters with trolls that Bilbo first caught sight of him. Azog and his white warg stood out in the darkness, anger and frustration from the failed expedition was clear on his figure, and Bilbo froze in fear. Bilbo felt helpless as he remembered that night. Noticing Bilbo's state, his guard quickly surrounded him, blocking the hobbit from Azog's gaze.

"Move aside. I wish to see my mate," Azog growled.

"My lord Baggins does not wish to see his highness," Marad replied. She did not move an inch and neither did any of the others in Bilbo's guard.

This only caused Azog to become angrier. "I am your king!" he shouted.

"We answer to my lord Baggins first, your majesty," Rem retorted. Bilbo was touched by his guard's loyalty but it didn't change the fact that Azog was pissed off and was exuding a barely controlled bloodlust.

The pale orc raised his blade and was about to bring it down when Bilbo pushed the orcs in front of him aside to face Azog. Panic rose up in Bilbo's throat, but he forced himself to swallow it back down. He took deep breaths, steeling himself, before opening his mouth to speak.

"Welcome back," Bilbo greeted.

Azog lowered his blade and then grinned triumphantly at the sight of his mate. "I see you've learnt the Black Speech. It pleases me that you've taken initiative to act like an orc king's mate."

Bilbo cleared his throat before responding. "Yes well, I've proven myself to you but you've done nothing to prove that you are the king you claim to be."

Azog responded with a snarl. "Careful my little mate, it would do you no good to anger me."

"I'm merely stating what I've observed. Today you failed to bring back your enemy's head and you failed to do so when we first met."

Bilbo stopped himself from flinching when Azog moved closer to Bilbo, his pale frame towering over Bilbo's.

"Very well, it seems as if you're determined to fight. So let's fight. I'll prove to you that your place is below me, especially in bed." Azog began to walk up the slope to the top of the rock structure and Bilbo followed him feeling slightly faint.

This was it. This fight would decide how Bilbo would spend the rest of his life. Just win this fight and he would be free to do whatever he wished. Lose and…he wouldn't lose.

The two walked to the center of the rock formation and faced each other, swords drawn. Around them were cheering orcs and goblins much like during Bilbo's fight against Bor. A small group though was silent. This group did not want to see their little lord get hurt but they also knew that they could do nothing more to help—they hoped Bilbo would come out the victor.

Without warning, Azog rushed forward and slashed down nearly slicing Bilbo's shoulder. It was only thanks the past three weeks of training and hunting that he was able to dodge the unexpected attack. The two traded blows and for an excruciatingly long time nothing landed.

Azog sliced his blade towards Bilbo's arm and Bilbo moved backwards to avoid it, but Azog's reach was too long and Bilbo got nicked on his cheek. First blood went to Azog.

"You know that I'll win this fight," Azog taunted the hobbit. "Surrender and save yourself some misery."

Bilbo touched the cut and felt a sting as he accidentally opened it. The cut wasn't too bad. "I can't give up," Bilbo replied. "It's just not what a Took would do."

The hobbit took a stab at Azog's unarmoured chest and his sword actually contacted skin. The glowing elvish sword cut through rough skin and hard flesh, going quite deep. Deep enough that it would add to the scars already on Azog's chest after it healed.

Azog roared and retaliated with fury. Bilbo did all he could just to defend himself from the furious slashes, aimed to kill—Azog, in his anger, didn't care to preserve his mate's life anymore. Just as quickly as the stab that ended Bor's life, Bilbo threw a slash at Azog which landed on his right arm. There was enough power behind for the sword to slice clean through muscle and bone. Azog's right arm now matched his left.

A loud angry cry filled the air and Azog thrust his clawed prosthetic hand at Bilbo, gutting him. Azog grinned triumphantly for the second time that night.

"It's not over yet," Bilbo spat out. The hobbit took his sword and sliced it upwards at Azog's neck. With nothing to defend him Azog could only watch as the sword drew closer to his exposed nape. And then, with a gross slick, the pale orc's neck was sliced open.

"It stings, doesn't it?" Bilbo said to the dying orc. The hobbit watched the light fade from Azog's eyes, the orc's blood gushing from his neck onto Bilbo. When Azog was no more, Bilbo let himself succumb to his own wounds. He coughed up blood before falling back, unconscious from the blood loss.


A/N: This an edited version of the last bit that was up on LiveJournal. It's short but I thought it deserved its own chapter.