Tauriel woke with a start, scraping the back of her head on the stone wall behind her. There was a stiffness in her neck that she'd never felt before, and a giddy sense of anxiety in her chest, even before she'd opened her eyes to the dull, grey morning sky.

And she was cold. The cold had seeped into her bones through her wet clothes – they'd been too tired to set a fire last night, and too worried about attracting unwanted attention. The little party of Thorin's companions had settled into the upstairs floor of one of the larger, derelict houses within Dale, and roosted where they could like birds. Dáin's dwarves had retreated into the trees around the lake, unwilling to stay so close to the Lonely Mountain now they knew what was dwelling inside.

Kili...where's Kili?

The elf's eyes flew open, peering around the gloomy room in the damp twilight, checking to make sure he hadn't somehow returned to her in the night.

She could see the sleeping figures of his dwarven friends, hunched uncomfortably in crevices by the bare stonework, or curled up on the bare floor beside one another. And then she saw the hobbit, staring out of the window nearby, the breeze playing with his brown curls while he surveyed the silent town.

He must have heard her stir, for he turned away from the empty window and faced her. "Did you sleep well, Tauriel?" His voice was soft and low.

The elf sat up, trying to stretch her neck and gain more feeling in her cold fingers.

"I slept, a little bit at least." She smiled sadly at the hobbit. "That's more than I was expecting."

Bilbo nodded. "Me too. But I woke at first light." He looked around the room. "Do you think we should wake the others?"

Tauriel shook her head, eyeing her sleeping companions. "Let them sleep a bit longer. They were up all night, and who knows what today will bring."

Bilbo turned back to his desolate view of Dale, staring solemnly out at the view. "There's a way inside, Tauriel. I know how we can get into Erebor."

She sat up fully, alert at once. "What way? Tell me."

But the hobbit continued staring out. "There's a secret door on the other side of the mountain. It's how we got inside in the first place." He gestured behind him, to the sleeping dwarves in the room. "It was locked when we got there, but we opened it. I don't know how we will get it to open again. But there must be a way."

Tauriel could see the look of purpose on the hobbit's tired face, and it warmed her wounded heart. She had at least one ally here. She rose to her feet, feeling unsteady as her numbed toes took her weight shakily, and staggered over to where he stood by his window perch.

She linked her arm in his, and stared out of his window, taking in the fresh morning air. The winding, desecrated streets in the foreground lay grey and empty under the bruised blue sky, hunched and twisting upwards to the jutting peak of the Lonely Mountain itself. It's head was lost in the trailing grey clouds, hidden from her sight.

The storm had passed overnight at last then. And all that lingered behind was the biting cold air with its trace of dampness on her face.

"We will find a way, Bilbo. We will get them back."

He stared up at her and nodded softly. "I know. We have to."

Tauriel heard a shuffling noise behind her and turned. The older dwarf, the one they called Balin, with the long white beard, was approaching the pair of them gently.

"You two should be sleeping while you can." He padded upto them carefully. "What are you conspiring about? Did you hear something in the night?"

Tauriel shifted away from the hobbit, letting the old dwarf take a space between them by the window. "I'm afraid there is no news, Balin. Nothing stirs yet within the Lonely Mountain. Bilbo and I were just discussing a secret way into Erebor. He tells me your company unlocked a hidden door three days ago when you re-entered the mountain?"

Balin nodded at her, and raised an eyebrow. "I know what you're thinking there, lass. And it might be a good idea... There's just one problem."

Bilbo shook his head, confused. "And what's that?"

The dwarf sighed. "We didn't lock the door – not with the same spell as before – so in theory it should be open... but I fear it will not open to just anybody."

The old dwarf himself stared out of the window, studying the rickety old town for signs of life. "The door was built by Thorin's ancestors, and I'm afraid it will take a direct descendant of those ancestors to open it." He saw his two companions staring at him quizzically. "You can't have a door lying open for just anyone to come through – it was meant as a secret entrance, for the kings of the mountain and their families to come and go unseen."

Tauriel followed the old dwarf's line of sight. "Then we need Fili. Is that what you're saying?"

Balin nodded miserably. "But we don't know where he is, lass. There's a good chance she's got him too." He stared at the looming mountain with open hatred, and Tauriel understood the depths of his despair.

She tried to reassure him. "I don't know where he is, Balin, but Kili knew. He was keeping it secret, but he knew his brother was safe and well – he said as much to Thorin. We just need to find Fili and get inside..." She saw the old dwarf's pale blue eyes turn to her with hope, and felt herself emboldened.

"We should eat something. Get our strength up." The hobbit murmured, almost to himself, as he stood staring out the window. Tauriel and Balin shared a glance, and waited for him to elaborate.

Bilbo finally tore his eyes away from the mountain and fixed them with a frail smile.

"There must be something to eat around here. I'm going to go and have a look, and make us some breakfast... then we can all get started on finding Fili."

Tauriel smiled and nodded. At least they had a plan.

She just hoped it would be enough.

There was blackness all around him. Comfortable, painless, and numbing. He wanted to stay there, in peace, but all of a sudden the soothing darkness collapsed into a deep well of pain in his chest, firing a choking, burning sensation in his throat.

Fighting for breath, Fili twisted onto his side, coughing up water from his lungs onto the forest floor.

His shoulder was aching under his body weight, and for a second he struggled to remember why his arms wouldn't work. And then it came to him – his hands were bound, and someone had left him lying under the trees in the gloomy woods, soaking wet and all alone, with nothing but his ragged breathing for company.

Another choking wave coursed through his chest, and Fili gasped for air – but only managed to inhale dirt from the dank, mossy ground on which he lay. He felt the strength go out of him, and closed his eyes, willing the blackness to return to him and take the burning pain in his chest away.

"Breathe slowly and stop fighting it, dwarf. The water in your lungs must be let out."

Fili's eyes shot open at the voice behind him. He had thought he was completely alone.

He heard more rustling behind him, and then there were strong, cold hands gripping his shoulders and lifting him up – lifting him up and holding him upright, so he could breathe easier and deeper. The hands didn't relax their grip on his shoulders, and Fili couldn't see who his captor was, but they held him tightly until the shuddering coughs had wracked his body dry, and his breathing came more regular.

"That's better. And now you can breath, you will speak to me. I want to know who you are, and what you were doing when you washed up on this shoreline. So speak, dwarf."

Fili coughed once more, and tried to remember where it was he'd first heard that voice... but he could barely remember anything except the storm; and falling into the water... and Bard – being on the sinking ship with the boatman from Laketown – all for the sake of someone whom he'd left behind on her own in Dale...

"Where's Bard? My friend. He was on the boat with me. Where is he?"

The hands didn't move an inch. "Your friend is quite safe. He was still conscious when we dragged him from the water, and is being looked after by my companions now." The hands tightened on Fili's shoulders. "Tell me who you are, dwarf."

Fili considered. He still had no idea who he was speaking to, but he was too exhausted to come up with a lie.

"I am Fili, son of Dis. The nephew and heir of the King under the Mountain, Thorin Oakenshield. And who are you?"

He heard a grunt behind him, and one of the cold hands left his shoulder and grabbed his face, pulling it sideways to allow his captor a better look at his dwarven features.

"So your friend was telling the truth after all." The hand returned to Fili's shoulder, forcing his head forwards again. "Now tell me why you were on a boat, on a stormy night, with a man who calls himself the king of Laketown?"

Fili sighed. "Bard and I were making for Mirkwood to see King Thranduil. We wanted to discuss something with the elven king. And we didn't want my uncle to know about it."

The cold hands shook him slightly, indicating he should continue.

"And what was this matter you wished to discuss? Answer me, or I will have you thrown back into the lake."

Fili felt a flush of anger. Who was this, to bind his hands and threaten him?

"I'm afraid the matter is for King Thranduil alone. We wished to seek an alliance with the king, but the specifics are for his ears only. Since you won't tell me who you are, I assume you are no friend of mine."

There was silence from behind him, and then the hands were withdrawn from his shoulders, and Fili heard the sound of a sword being unsheathed behind him. A sharp prick of fear stabbed at his chest.

But then he felt his arms being lifted high, and the bounds were cut loose. The cold hands hauled him roughly to his feet, and spun him round.

Fili found himself looking into the pale, blue eyes of a Mirkwood elf, towering haughtily over him and looking disdainfully down upon him. He recognised the elf's refined, handsome features and sneering upper lip at once.

The elf gave him a mock bow. "I am Legolas, son of King Thranduil of the Mirkwood realm." He eyed the dwarf scornfully. "I think we have already met, Prince Fili, but perhaps you didn't have so much to thank me for last time."

Fili stared back at the elf, annoyed he hadn't realised sooner. Of all the people to be rescued by, it had to be him. It would have been more of a mercy to drown in the lake, and be spared the self-righteous elven lectures.

"I'm sorry, Legolas – I didn't recognise you there without your jail keys. Thank you for saving my life, I am truly grateful... and slightly confused. Why did you save me?"

The elf smirked. "Because your friend asked me to, dwarf. I thought you were dead when we pulled you ashore, and a lost cause. Your friend had to breath air into your lungs for half an hour before you came back to us."

Legolas gestured behind him, towards the trees, and Fili noticed there was a small fire going. Several tall, blond elves were stood sternly around a fire, while Bard was there too, knocking back a mug full of steaming liquid by the fire. He saw the bedraggled, blond dwarf looking his way, and raised his cup in salute with a smile. Fili waved back, feeling a rush of gratitude to the man who'd saved his life.

He turned back to face the elf, conscious of his wet clothes and cold skin. "Am I free to go now, Legolas? Or are you going to take me back to your father's jail again?"

The elf motioned to the fire. "Warm yourself, dwarf. We have no desire to suffer your company all the way back to Mirkwood, so consider yourself lucky. We have business to attend to around here."

Fili raised an eyebrow and started towards the fire, eager to dry himself. "And what business do you have so close to my uncle's kingdom?"

"These are our woods, dwarf. This is the southern extent of our range. My guards were sent down here by my father to keep an eye on all the trouble that your uncle has caused. We have heard disturbing rumours, and have seen signs that a large orc army has marched on your mountain."

The dwarf felt his face fall, and stopped in his tracks. "What? What signs?"

But the elf nodded soberly, the smug mask gone from his delicate face. "We saw an army riding out to meet the lights on the far side of the lake, but we have seen two armies come back." He turned to Fili. "Was one of them your uncle's? I assume this has something to do with why you wish to see my father in such a hurry?"

Fili shook his head, thinking immediately of Sigrid ,and how he'd left her all alone in Dale.

"No, not directly it doesn't." He reached the fire, where Bard was waiting for him, and the two of them exchanged a worried glance. "Have you heard the news, Bard? We have to go back!"

The dark-haired boatman nodded. "Now you're awake, I hope you're ready for a fight."

The dwarf cast his eyes across the lake, looking to the Lonely Mountain, shrouded in grey clouds. He hoped she was safe – he hoped they were all safe. He felt a desperation to be back there at once – he had to find out what was going on and help the people he loved.

"Tell me about this army marching on Erebor, Legolas – what do you know?"

The elf shook his head. "All I know is that it will be a bloodbath for any of the Laketown people unlucky enough to be caught up in your uncle's kingdom. And that is not something that my father will stand for."

"So does that mean you will come back with us, and fight with us?"

The cocky smile returned to the elf prince's face, and he shared a glance with the dark haired man by the dwarf's side.

"I will return with the king of Laketown, and fight for his people with my Mirkwood guards. But understand, dwarf – it is not for the sake of you or your troublesome family that we do this. As far as my king is concerned, your family should have burned with the dragon you so foolishly woke."

Fili stared at him coldly. "And what about the lady Tauriel, Legolas. She has a new home now in Erebor and is happy. Would you have her burn with us?"

The elf glared angrily back. "Do not speak of my friend as if you know her. I do not know what happiness she thinks she will find with your brother, but I know that it will be short-lived. Rather like your family's future."

Fili felt the blood rushing to his head in anger, but Bard stepped in before he could react, clamping an arm around the dwarf's shoulders and smiling indulgently at Legolas.

"Can you two please save all this until after we've fought the orcs? You're like children, both of you. We need to get ready to leave – now!"

Legolas jutted his jaw out wide and pouted. "As you so please. It's the dwarf we've been waiting all night for." And he strutted away, calling out in elvish to his troop of guards.

Fili shook his head, thinking of Sigrid. "Thank you, Bard. And I'm sorry – I know we don't have time to argue. It's just, that elf... I don't like him."

Bard chuckled. "I think you're going to like the journey back to Erebor even less."

The dwarf looked alarmed. "What's wrong now?"

Bard pointed down to the lake, where an elvish boat bobbed up and down in the choppy waves. "We're going by water again. I hope your sickness has died down."

Fili winced inwardly. He'd had enough of that lake to last a lifetime, almost literally. He just hoped his bad luck was behind him now. He didn't want any more nasty surprises, for him or any of his friends.

Kili opened his eyes, his heart pounding. Someone was rattling the chains on the door to their cell. The metallic clinking set his nerves on edge, and he tried to turn his head towards the door to get a better look at whatever was coming in.

The metal collar restraining him to the wall would not permit such liberties however, and Kili abandoned his attempts. He realised he didn't want to know anymore anyway. His whole body was stiff and aching after his night spent chained to the wall, unable to move, but he had no illusions that things could get a lot worse, for him and his uncle.

He turned his head towards Thorin, chained to the other side of the cell, and saw he was awake now too. His uncle saw the movement, and called to him urgently in Khuzdul.

"Don't say anything against them, Kili. Don't put yourself in harm's way – do you understand? Give them whatever they want – that's an order!"

The door burst open, and two ugly, grey orcs hunched down and twisted their way through the door. The Erebor cell was small, meant for convicted dwarf prisoners awaiting sentencing, but the smaller orcs could still make their way in and out.

The hateful creatures were each carrying a pail of water, and Kili gave a cry of shock as an orc tipped one right over his head, drenching his bare skin with the freezing liquid.

The beast watched his body stiffen and strain against his chains, leering in amusement.

"It's time for you both to get going. My master has something in store for you."

Kili locked eyes with his uncle, his panic rising, but the orc closed in on him and released the manacles from his wrists, cuffing them tightly in front of him. The latches attaching his collar to the wall were unclipped, and the dwarf felt movement return to his neck again. His head felt strangely lightheaded.

"Get up, and stand still."

He felt a tug at his dark hair, forcing him to his feet, and a chain was attached to the collar that he wore.

"Get going, and stay in front of me." Kili was pushed towards the door, and he staggered forwards, nearly losing his balance.

"Thorin?" He called for his uncle, needing to hear his voice, worried they would be split up and might never meet again...

"I'm right behind you, Kili. Do as you're told."

Kili swallowed thickly and allowed himself to be prodded out of the cell, and down the darkened corridor. The floor was rough and uneven, and his captor kept changing pace, alternately yanking on his collar or letting him stumble forward.

"That's far enough. In this door here – the one on the left. Push it open."

Kili pushed with his chained hands against the solid oak door, afraid of what he was going to find waiting inside.

But there was nothing there – just a wooden chest and a few sputtering candles, throwing a dingy light around the bare stone walls.

He felt a strong arm push him from behind to the floor, and then he was dragged along by his chain. Feeling his trousers tearing over his knees, Kili clawed at the collar all the way, fighting against the metal for breath.

His captor hauled him up without a word against the wall, and he heard the click of latches locking across his collar once more, holding him tightly in place.

He watched to see his uncle being hauled into the room after him – their eyes met hurriedly and Kili could see both anger and fear on his uncle's face.

"Thorin, what's happening?"

"I don't know, Kili."

The pair of orcs now worked together, and wound the chain his uncle wore around a large ring attached to the wall, fixing him there with his back exposed.

Kili felt the breath freeze in his throat as one of the orcs bent down and retrieved something from the wooden chest. It looked like a type of whip, but there were at least seven strips of leather hanging from the handle, all decorated with metallic studs and hooks. He shuddered, squirming against his collar.

"You will be first, Oakenshield. I want your nephew to understand what he's getting." The larger of the two orcs – the one that had manhandled his uncle down the hall – turned and gave Kili a wink. "Those young ones always think they're invincible. Always think they're... unbreakable."

He raised the flail, about to strike, and Kili felt his horror rise to the surface.

"No!" He cried. "Leave him alone!"

The second orc sidled upto him, and nodded towards his uncle. "We're not going to hurt him too much, little dwarf. Too many blows and he'll pass out, and where's the sport in that?"

The larger orc let fly with the whip against his uncle's back, and Kili heard his uncle grunt as his skin was broken by the vicious teeth on the leather straps.

The smaller orc smiled at Kili, seeing the colour drain from his face, and whispered to him.

"After you've both had a turn of this, we're under instructions to have you salted and oiled. Azog wants you roasting on a spit before noontime, so he can enjoy a taste of your company over dinner with some fine elvish wine."

The larger orc loosed his whip on Thorin's back a second time, and Kili heard his uncle groan.

"You're both going to be carved up for the feast tonight."

The whip was cracked a third time, and his uncle moaned as it tore into his flesh.

"I never did get a taste of your brother, little dwarf. Maybe I'll get a piece of you instead."

There was another smack of the whip's teeth across his uncle's back, and Kili felt a fine spray of blood coat his face as his uncle cried out in pain.

"Stop it, stop it!" Kili cried. "He hasn't done anything to you! Why are you doing this?" He felt a wetness on his cheeks, and realised it was tears.

The smaller orc looked upon him sympathetically, and nodded.

"Would you like a turn now, is that it?" He turned to his companion. "Change them around, this one's starting to blubber."

Kili stared his uncle's wounded back, gouged all over with rows of bloody streaks threading up his shoulders, and felt sickness rise in his stomach.

"Thorin!"

"It's okay, Kili." His uncle's voice was laboured. "It's not that bad."

The smaller of the two orcs unlocked Kili's collar again, and led him towards another ring on the wall opposite his uncle, readying his back for their attentions.

Kili felt himself tremble in anticipation, almost willing the whip to strike and be done with it.

He was bracing himself for the first blow, when the door was thrown open, and something big and heavy shuffled inside.

"There's been a change of plan. These two are to go back to their cell – the boss doesn't want them damaged."

Kili heard a growl of disapproval behind his back.

"Doesn't want them damaged? What's the point of keeping them prisoner then? We may as well just kill them now!"

"No, he wants them killing later. Says he wants a more permanent way to remember them, whatever that means."

Kili felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, wondering what Azog and that devil-woman had devised. The orcs untied him from the wall without another word, and started to drag his uncle back down the corridor towards their cell.

But as Kili was spun around and away from his un-fated flogging, he saw the cruel smile of the third orc, blocking his way in the doorway.

"I wouldn't want to be in your shoes now, dwarf," the grey beast trilled. "By the time death comes for you, it will be a mercy..."

Kili stared into the creature's fiendish, black eyes and saw nothing but cruelty and malice. He tried to think of a something comforting to steady himself – his uncle, his brother, Tauriel – but there was pain attached to every one of them now, and he felt misery and despair sinking into his heart.

And the creature saw the dwarf's lip begin to tremble, and laughed in delight.

"Did you find anything, Bilbo?"

The elf was calling to him before he'd even left the last house, evidently finishing her own swoop of the streets before him.

"No, there's no sign of him in there."

The pair of them had decided to go house to house, or rather, ruin-to-ruin, looking for any trace of Fili – or of anyone else that wasn't one of Rose's grey minions. They'd searched most of the upper part of town quickly, but were trying to be more methodical on its lower quarters by the lake. It seemed somehow a more likely place to hide from Thorin's wrathful gaze.

"We've still got so much left to search, Bilbo! Maybe we should go back and see if the others are awake?"

He could hear the anxiety in Tauriel's voice, and he felt it himself too. They couldn't spend long on their search – he didn't know what that woman was planning to do to Thorin and Kili, but he knew she would want them dead sooner or later. If they didn't find Fili soon, then they'd just have to accept that Rose had gotten to him first.

The hobbit looked up at the sky, blanketed with thick, featureless cloud. The sun was well and truly risen now – casting a diffuse white light on the empty streets from behind its blank curtain. It was time for the rest of them to be up, if they weren't already.

"Let's go back and fetch them – we can't do this on our own!"

They set back towards the hill, readying themselves for the climb up the main streets – when Bilbo heard a distant, heavy scraping noise echoing down the silent town.

"What was that?" He turned to face the elf, his eyes wide.

She was instantly on edge too, reaching for her bow. "It sounded like the Erebor gate."

They stood still for a moment, wondering what to do, listening out for signs of trouble. And then slowly, they heard the sound of movement. It was distant, coming from all the way on top of the hill, but unmistakeable.

The elf turned to him, alarmed. "Something's marching out of Erebor. Let's get back to the others, quickly!"

But Bilbo grabbed her sleeve as she made to run.

"Tauriel, wait! Let's see what they're doing first. We don't want to go back to that ruined house and be trapped there all morning if the orc army stations itself outside!" She stopped and turned, staring at him sideways. "Let's go and find Dwalin, with the rest of the host. If the orcs are coming out, maybe it's time to fight them after all!"

The elf eyed the path up the hill, and he could tell what she wanted. She wanted to get as close as she could to that open gate, and wait for an unguarded moment to slip inside –but it was madness. She would never make it.

They had to be smarter than that.

He tugged at her sleeve, urging her. "Come on, we can't stay here!"

She took one last desperate look up the hill, and then shook her head and followed the hobbit. They made for the woods on the edge of town by the lake, hoping Dwalin and his dwarves hadn't retreated too deeply into the forest.

The woods around this part of town were thick, and dark, and the silence hung somehow thicker here than it had on the barren streets. The air was dank, and cold, and heavy.

Bilbo spun on his heels, wondering how on earth he'd keep his bearings in a place like this. A few steps further in, and they wouldn't even be able to see the lake anymore.

He stared plaintively at his companion. "How do you think we'll find them? In here?" He hurried to keep pace, struggling to keep up with the elf's long strides over the damp, mossy earth. "Should we shout for them?"

Tauriel stopped suddenly, eying a patch of pine trees off to her left. She raised a hand at him, and the hobbit stopped to listen. He held his breath obediently and listened, but the only sound that came to him was the dull hammering of his own heart.

"What is it?" He whispered, reaching towards his belt, checking his sword was still in place.

"Something moved over there." She pointed to her left, and unhooked her bow from her shoulder in a single, fluid motion.

The hobbit stared at the dark, shadowy trees. "Was it our dwarves?"

But the elf shook her head with a grimace. "Much too stealthy for dwarves, I'm afraid."

She studied the trees in front of her, seeing patterns in their shapes that the hobbit could only guess at, while Bilbo looked around anxiously. He wished he'd never suggested they come this way.

And then suddenly, there was a blur of movement from the corner of his eye, and the hobbit swung round – just in time to see the pine tree off to his left struck through with an arrow. It landed cleanly in the wood, at the level of his head, and the hobbit gasped in surprise.

"Oh, my... Tauriel? What's happening?"

He trained his hazel eyes onto the elf, seeing her stare at the tree in astonishment, but she did not string her bow.

And then from the far left, there came a low-pitched, wavering bird call.

Bilbo turned slowly to face the trees. Something was coming towards them, he was sure of it. There was a movement from far beyond the pines...

By his side, he saw Tauriel raise her hand to her mouth and smile, and he stared at her in confusion.

"What is it? What's going on?"

But as he turned back to the pine trees, he suddenly saw they were not alone. Dozens of fair-haired, green-clad elves appeared out of the shadows under the trees – they'd been so close to him and he'd never even seen them. They were all around them, surrounding them, and staring at them with their pale, fine faces...

And then, further back, he saw another blond – shorter and stockier than the others – running towards them both alongside a handsome, dark-haired man...

"Fili! You're alive!" Bilbo found himself grinning for the first time in a long while. It made his face hurt, but he kept doing it anyway.

The dwarf caught up with them, running straight to Bilbo and giving him a tight hug. "We heard about the orcs! Thank Mahal you're safe! Where are the others? Where is Sigrid?"

Bilbo hugged the dwarf back, suddenly not wanting to have to let him go and explain to him. He saw the dark-haired king of Laketown staring at him in earnest too.

"What has happened to my people, Bilbo? Where are my children?"

The hobbit lowered his eyes, and released the dwarf from his embrace.

"I'm afraid I don't know the whereabouts of your family, Bard – I expect they are inside Erebor with the rest of your people – and with Thorin and Kili..." He looked from Bard's deep blue eyes to Fili's blue-grey ones, but neither of them seemed alarmed by the news.

The hobbit sighed. "Rose is in there with them – her, and her orc army. They took the city last night, and now they're holding everyone hostage. She forced Thorin and Kili to surrender to her by threatening to kill people... and now I don't know what's going to happen."

He saw their faces fall, and felt his heart plummet too. "I'm sorry I have no better news for you."

Fili turned to Bard, his face turning stony. "I will tell you right now what is going to happen, my friends – we are going to rid our home of all of those creatures, and make that woman pay." He fixed Bilbo with a cold stare. "Tell me everything – Bard and I need all the details. We need to find a way inside Erebor, or get her to come out – and we need to do it soon!"

Bilbo nodded, feeling like he had a purpose again.

"And I will help you in this task." The hobbit turned to see a tall, strapping elf striding towards them from the pines. He marched straight up to Tauriel, and whispered under his breath in melodic elvish.

The words meant little to the hobbit, but straight away, the colour rose in the elf's cheeks, and she smiled at him, nodding. She turned to Bilbo and the rest of her friends in the woods, and explained.

"Legolas has brought his Mirkwood guardians with him and will help us. Maybe it's time to find Dwalin and get our forces combined." She turned back to face the way they'd come, just a few minutes ago, fleeing from Dale.

"If it's a fight they want, then we will give it to them."