Happy Sunday! I was on holiday, hence the delay in posting, I hope you enjoy this new chapter! Thanks very much to McKenna079, blasttyrant, Guest, Erikawaskiki and FizzWizz2011 for your reviews on the last one. Do let me know what you think of this one!


Arinna was sat in a corner of the tent that she and Bilbo had been led to after the events of the day. The Lakemen and Elves had expanded their camp from Dale and had built up tents along the River Running for the Elven soldiers and the Lakemen that were healthy and capable enough to fight, if the need arose. The city of Dale was now mainly used to shelter the women and children.

She had been sitting in the same spot for a while now, thinking about whether she had made the right choice. It had broken her heart to leave the mountain, to leave Fili and her friends behind. But what should she have done? She loved Fili, but she knew that he could not have come with her. As he had said that day in the treasury, Thorin was his uncle and his king, his sense of duty and loyalty to him was too strong to dismiss that so easily. Arinna understood that, but she could not ignore her own sense of duty that she felt toward the people of Laketown, her own conscience that told her staying under Thorin's command when he was blinded by his greed, by the effects of the dragon-sickness, was wrong. And yet, she couldn't help but think about the blond dwarf, missing him already. She could only hope that he would find a way to make Thorin see reason and that they would be reunited soon.

"There you are," someone spoke from the tent's entrance and the druid lifted her head slightly to find Gandalf ducking under it. The wizard gave her a warm look. "I have something to discuss with King Thranduil and Bard. They are gathered with Bilbo in council. I would like you to be there, as well."

"I don't know what good my council would do, Gandalf," the druid spoke softly, her voice tired as she looked up at the tall wizard before her.

Gandalf simply watched her for a moment, before he took a few steps toward her. He came to a halt in front of her, leaning on his staff as he spoke kindly. "You are a wise woman, my dear," he said, giving her a knowing look. Arinna frowned slightly, prompting him to go on. "Bilbo told me about yourself and young Fili. Your choice was very difficult, yet I believe it was the right one to make. And though your heart is heavy right now, it may well be your voice that could sway the path of destiny. Or at least the path of the dwarves."

"It is a matter of urgency, Arinna," Gandalf added when the druid said nothing, unsure of how to respond. Finally, she just gave a small nod and stood, following the wizard as he led the way. They walked along several tents until they came to one bigger than the rest of them. They entered swiftly and Arinna looked up to see Bard, Thranduil and Bilbo already gathered around a table on which a map was splayed out.

Bard gave the druid a kind smile as she came to a halt beside Gandalf, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked around, unsure of what to make of the situation. She caught Bilbo's gaze across the room, finding him looking equally as uncertain as she was.

"You took your time," Thranduil uttered, bent over the map, his voice cool. Rising slowly, he gave the wizard a pointed look. "Tell us why you have called us here, Mithrandir, I do have other matters to attend to."

"None as important as what I am about to tell you," Gandalf replied with a slight huff. "I have come with word of Dol Guldur. Armies of Orcs are on the move. I saw them with my own eyes, rank upon rank of Moria Orcs. You must set aside your petty grievances with the dwarves, at least for now. There is a much bigger threat on the horizon."

A heavy silence hung over them at Gandalf's unexpected words, and while Bilbo and Arinna exchanged a worried look, Bard and Thranduil were staring at the wizard before them with sceptical looks on their faces.

"Why tell us this now?" Bard asked with a frown. "You have been here this whole time. Why not tell us before we went to bargain with the dwarves?"

Gandalf let out a small sigh. "I had hoped that Thorin might still be reasoned with," he answered. "But he seems beyond reach."

"He agreed to trade for the Arkenstone," Bard reminded the wizard, not quite knowing what Gandalf was trying to say. As far as he was concerned, their issue had been resolved that morning.

"But he won't," Arinna finally said, causing all eyes to fall on her as she let out a deep sigh. It had been a rumbling worry in her stomach, though it had grown throughout the day, as she had thought about Thorin's agreement. She exchanged another small look with Bilbo. "He sent word to his kin in the Iron Hills the day you arrived in Dale. He is blinded by the dragon-sickness, I doubt he has any intention of giving up even a small part of that treasure without a fight."

"We must try and make peace with them," Gandalf reiterated, nodding at Arinna's words. "It is our only hope. An army of Elves, Men and Dwarves may stand a chance against the approaching enemy."

"What are you talking about?" Bard asked, confusion written clearly across his face as he tried to make sense of it all. Thranduil gave him a short look.

"I see you know nothing of wizards," he uttered in a lightly amused tone, looking over at Gandalf. "They are like winter thunder on a wild wind, rolling in from a distance breaking hard in alarm. But sometimes, a storm is just a storm."

The wizard let out a frustrated sigh. "Not this time," he said, though the Elf was quick to interrupt him, his voice smooth and calm as he spoke.

"These Orc armies you speak of, Mithrandir, where are they?" he asked, waving his hand slightly, as his gaze wandered from the wizard to Arinna and Bilbo. "Don't mistake me. Long will I tarry before I begin this war for gold. But I think you are merely trying to save your Dwarvish friends. And I admire your loyalty to them, but it will not dissuade me from my cause. There are gems in that mountain that I, too, desire. The white gems of Lasgalen. The heirlooms of my people are not lightly forsaken."

"This is absurd," Arinna uttered in reply, sending the Elf before her a hard look. Thranduil's eyebrows rose slightly in response to her words and he turned toward her with a small smile playing on his lips.

"Is it?" he asked calmly. "You are wearing a dwarvish braid in your hair, are you not?"

Arinna frowned at the Elven king, her fingers unconsciously coming up to brush against the end of Fili's braid. "Yes," she replied. "What of it?"

"Would that not suggest that you seek to help them keep their treasure, seeing as you are courting one of them?"

The druid shook her head, anger bubbling in her stomach at the Elf's words. Thranduil watched her silently, his blue eyes taking in her hard features as she addressed him. "It is true that I am loyal to the dwarves," she said plainly, trying to keep her voice calm. "But that does not mean that I cannot tell right from wrong or that I don't have my own mind. I am here, am I not? Part of that treasure must go to the people of Laketown, as was promised. And the heirlooms of your people should be given back to you. But to bicker over gold and silver while an Orc army approaches this camp is absurd. Since when has Gandalf's council counted for so little? I believe him when he says that we are all in mortal danger. And I agree that we must try and set our differences aside for now, and deal with the real threat at hand."

Another long silence followed her words, and Arinna held Thranduil's piercing gaze while Bard inclined his head beside him, giving a small nod.

"How long before the enemy arrives here?" the Lakeman asked quietly and Gandalf gave him a relieved nod before he answered.

"Two days at the most," he said earnestly, and Arinna felt her heart sink at the words. She looked up as the wizard put a large hand on her shoulder. "We must go tomorrow and try once more to reason with them. Hopefully the direness of the situation will be enough to sway Thorin's mind."


The druid was back in her tent, quietly discussing the matters of the evening with Bilbo. The hobbit was sat on one of the two small cots that had been provided for them, wringing his hands in his lap.

"Do you truly think Thorin will go to war over this?" Bilbo asked and she let out a deep sigh, shrugging slightly.

"He will take back that stone by force if he must. I'm certain of it," she said, looking up when Bilbo let out an exasperated sound.

"Then it was all for nothing. I thought giving them the Arkenstone to trade would resolve the situation," he muttered, a deep concern mirroring in his eyes. "Now it seems I have only made matters worse."

"No, Bilbo," Arinna answered with a soft sigh, empathy filling her heart as she watched the hobbit squirm slightly, obviously ridden with guilt. She shook her head as he looked up at her dubiously. "Remember, up on the wall, you told me that I mustn't hold it against you? I want you to know that I do not. I haven't, not for one moment. You did the right thing, and a very brave thing at that."

The hobbit inclined his head. "I betrayed him," he uttered. "He trusted me."

"You did not betray him," Arinna countered, walking over now to sit beside the hobbit. He let out a sigh as she slung one arm over his shoulder, squeezing him gently. "You only tried to help. Thorin will come to see that eventually. For now, we can only hope that he will see reason before war arrives on his doorstep."

Bilbo just made a noncommittal sound in return, before he slung his own arm across her middle and they sat there together in silence for a long while. They were jerked out of their respective thoughts, when a bell sounded loudly from outside their tent and they looked up, hearing people calling out to each other in the camp.

"Dwarves!" Arinna heard one of the men shout as Bilbo and her made their way to the outside, and the hobbit shot her an excited look, not even hesitating for a moment before he took off running after the soldiers. Arinna followed quickly, her heart beating fast in her chest, as she traced Bilbo through the tents toward the edge of the river. She came to a halt there, finding Bard and Gandalf, as well as Thranduil, already gathered on the riverbank. They were staring across the water and it was only when Arinna had managed to follow after Bilbo to the front of the people, that she realised why. They had not been alerted to any movement of the Company but of someone else.

An army of dwarves stood on the other side of the river, gathered in position behind an imposing looking dwarf in armour, riding atop a huge armoured war-hog. He had a long, braided brown beard specked with grey strands of hair and a grim face.

"I am Dain, son of Nain!" The dwarf at the front proclaimed loudly, after both sides had observed each other for a while. He eyed them darkly. "We are hastening to our kinsmen in the mountain, since we learn that the kingdom of old is renewed. But who are you that sit in the plain as foes before defended walls?"

Arinna huffed quietly to herself, though Bilbo stood close enough to hear. "In other words, 'You have no business here. We're going on, so make way or we shall fight you'."

Suddenly, before anyone could answer, there was a loud rumbling in the air, like thunder, though the sky was clear and shone with stars. Arinna looked up in surprise, along with everyone else, and saw that far on the horizon dark clouds had gathered and hurried over the sky with awful swiftness. She narrowed her eyes, realising that these clouds were not actually moving with the wind, before she realised that they were not clouds at all.

"Bats!" one of the Elven soldiers called out, confirming her thoughts.

The beasts were still very far away but whirling forward, their numbers so dense that no light could be seen between their wings. While the others watched on in shock, it was Gandalf's loud voice that pierced the silence, his voice like thunder as his staff flashed a bright light, like lightning of its own, and all eyes turned back to him.

"Dread has come upon you all! And more swiftly than I guessed. The goblins are upon you, Azog the Defiler is coming. Dain, son of Nain! Come! There is yet time for council."

The dwarf-lord hesitated, though the wizard could see in his eyes the uncertainty dissipating as the bats approached in the sky. They all knew that such bats were bred for one purpose alone; for war. And now, neither the dwarves, nor any of the Men or Elves had any doubt anymore that these were scouts, sent ahead of an approaching Orc and Goblin army. Gandalf had been right. And so, Dain gave his men gruff but swift orders to gather together with the Elves and Men, guarding the camp and keeping watch over the distant horizon while he joined the wizard's council.

"We must join together for this battle," Gandalf was saying a few minutes later when he had gathered all of them together in a tent once more. His tone was now more urgent than before. "It is the only chance we have. Elves, Men and Dwarves stand against Orcs and Goblins."

"I did not expect to fight an army of such beasts upon coming here," Dain said. His voice was deep and calm now, in contrast to his battle-ready attire, and his grey eyes alert. He was looking around the tent, his gaze turning slightly hostile when it fell upon the Elven king, who ignored it graciously. "I was to join my cousin in his cause. He made no mention of Orcs."

"That's because he doesn't know yet," Gandalf uttered, earning himself a surprised glare from Dain. The dwarf threw up his hands, his face showing the obvious impression that he was the only reasonable one in this tent.

"Then we must inform him!" he growled. "Thorin will join my ranks and lead us, no doubt. And for the best, for he has the best fighters of all of the Ered Luin in his company."

Gandalf cleared his throat slightly, though it was someone else who answered the dwarf's words.

"Thorin is sick," Bilbo uttered quietly, shrinking slightly beneath the dwarf's heavy gaze as it suddenly came to rest on him. "Perhaps you ought to know that first."

"Sick?" Dain repeated, confusion and disbelief in his voice as he regarded the hobbit with a deep frown. Bilbo just nodded. "Sick, how?"

"It is dragon-sickness," the hobbit answered, his words causing the dwarf-lord's face to suddenly turn to anger.

Dain shook his head at the hobbit, pointing an accusing finger at him. "Dragon-sickness! You little liar, that's impossible. Thorin could never –"

"It is true," Arinna interrupted softly, feeling drained at all this fighting and discussing that had been going on all day. The dwarf turned to her, as though he was only now noticing that she was there at all. And indeed, he had not paid her much attention before now, although as he looked at her now, he thought that perhaps he should have. "He is not himself."

Dain took in the small woman's form, noticing that despite of how tired she looked and sounded, her voice was firm and her eyes truthful and sad. He wondered for a moment why the topic would affect her at all, before his eyes fell on the intricate braid behind her left ear, which fell over her shoulder with the rest of her dark strands. He frowned in confusion, though knowing that there was no mistaking what he saw.

"What's your name, lass?" he asked, without responding to her previous words.

"Arinna," the druid provided quietly, looking at the dwarf-lord as he gave a thoughtful nod. She felt herself grow slightly uncomfortable as his heavy gaze kept resting on her.

"That braid in your hair, Arinna," he finally muttered then, his voice calmly curious and surprisingly friendly as he looked at her. "Who gave you it?"

Arinna hesitated, slightly taken aback by the dwarf's question and tone, and unsure whether it would help the situation at all if she told him. Dain stared at her patiently for a few moments, before he raised his eyebrows slightly.

"Thorin?" he ventured, when she still hadn't answered, causing the druid's cheeks to redden as she shook her head quickly. Dain gave a short nod. "No, that would have been a shock indeed. He'd be much too old for a young lass like yourself, anyway."

"His nephew," Arinna finally said, partly to stop him talking, as the dwarf-lord kept staring at her expectantly. Dain nodded again at her quiet words. He kept his piercing grey eyes trained on her.

"Which nephew?"

"Fili," Arinna answered, after another moment's hesitation. She felt a slight sting in her heart at the mention of his name, missing him dearly. She wished that he was here with her. As things were though, the druid merely watched with slight unease as Dain cracked a small smile, surprise written across his face as he shook his head in disbelief. He let out a rough laugh then and Arinna flinched as he suddenly dropped a large hand on her shoulder.

"Well, then you're practically family, aren't you?" he rumbled and laughed again at Arinna's wide-eyed expression, patting her shoulder. He sobered slightly then, his deep voice growing more serious. "Such a braid is not given lightly. Especially to an outsider. In fact, I don't think I've heard of such a thing being done in a hundred years. But if Prince Fili has declared you as his One, then I have no reason to doubt your word. I will send a raven to Thorin, tell him of what has happened. I am sure he will see reason if the word comes from his own kin."

Arinna was not sure if Dain was right, knowing how Thorin had suspected his own kin of withholding the Arkenstone from him for the past days. However, she could not deny the relief she felt at his acceptance of her and her relationship with Fili. She had not expected it at all, as it was much more than Thorin had granted her. It reminded her once more that perhaps the dwarf-king would have reacted differently had he not been under the influence of the sickness already when they arrived in the mountain. She let out a small sigh, knowing that this was merely speculation, a thought that she used to comfort herself.