A/N - Two chapters within one week?! How the hell did that happen? I wish I could be this prolific and this pleased with the product on a forever basis.

Disclaimer - I, in no way whatsoever, own any of the canon characters, places, or things found in this story. All belong to Tolkien, and I make no profit.

A symphony of snores, the sounds of a slumbering party, and he sighed quietly as he tried for the thousandth time to find rest. No matter how hard he wished for sleep, it seemed it would not happen this night. Eyes roaming the stars, he turned his head, and in the low firelight he could make out the unmoving shapes of his comrades, the brave fools who had agreed to accompany him to retake the Lonely Mountain. They were few in number, but that mattered not; they would reclaim their lost kingdom and their rightful heritage. If he had to give everything, he would, and it was as simple as that. Now that he had Gandalf's help, along with the map and key that were his birthright, he was even more sure he would reach Erebor and rid its hallowed halls of the evil that made its lair within. For the first time in what seemed like ages, he had a goal and a plan. He would see it through until its end—or his.

Purpose driving him, there were a million things that his mind should be focused upon, but he kept coming back to a sense of incompletion, and he knew exactly what foolish line of thought had triggered those feelings. His brief, but intense, trip in the company of one Mage of Evendim had left its mark on him. If not for her, he would not be here now, and her knowledge and powers were remarkable—some silly, overly optimistic part of him had hoped that she would join him for longer. But, the moment they had neared the outskirts of Bree, she had vanished. One moment, she had been walking quietly behind him on the road towards town, eyes forward, jaw set, cloak of sapphire wrapped about her frame; and the next, she was gone. Startled, he'd spun circles in the dirt, ready to backtrack and find her, when her voice had whispered in his mind, "Your mark awaits in the Prancing Pony. Find him."

So he had, her words true, and his allegiance with Gandalf had led him to this, the opportunity to right the wrongs committed against his people. He had arrogantly assumed that she would eventually return to him; after all, he had not paid his debt to her. But, in the weeks that followed, which were filled with preparation and travel that had taken him all over Eriador, she still had not resurfaced. It was ridiculous he knew, but in some odd way, he missed her, and not just her magic.

Standing in silence, he moved slowly and carefully amongst the resting rabble, with the hope that stretching his legs might convince his mind that it was time for sleep. Common sense told him not to go far alone, and he meandered towards a nearby rocky precipice that they had found while scouting the area for camp. The rugged terrain of the mountains offered amazing views, and he would entertain himself with admiring their beauty if he could not rest.

"Impressive, isn't it?"

Rich and strong, Gandalf's voice reminded him of his father's, no matter how many times he heard it. He nodded in response, "Aye, and it's better than looking at a bunch of snoring dwarfs."

He watched the chuckling wizard as he took a seat on the ground, "Can't sleep, can you?"

"No, and I was hoping to spare anyone else that misfortune by coming out here. My apologies."

"No need," smiling, Gandalf continued, "What keeps you up?"

"Planning," he admitted, though that wasn't entirely accurate. "When I think on what we are undertaking…"

"It will be no small feat, and that is certain. But, we will find a way. It was not by chance that I met your father in Dol Guldur and that he entrusted me with the tools you will need to gain entrance into Erebor. Fate smiles upon us."

"A year ago, I would have told you that fate is nonexistent, an excuse used by lackwits who allow their lives to be dictated to them. But, here we sit, and I have learned that I can no longer dismiss it so easily."

Packing his pipe, the mage asked before lighting it, "I'm curious, how was it that you came to Bree?"

Exposed flesh, blonde curls, and flimsy linen—a flashback of just how he had learned of where to find Gandalf the Grey, and the words tumbled forth, "The Mage of Evendim…"

Eyes wide, the look on Gandalf's face was one of absolute concern, "She helped you?"

"Yes. She told me you were in Bree..."

"In exchange for what? She does nothing without consideration."

The mage's stare was scrutinizing, uncomfortably so, and something within him snapped. "I gave her nothing."

Yet, he thought ominously to himself, as their bargain was incomplete. But, the wizard did not need to know that, and he definitely did not need to know that she had accompanied him to Bree. Gandalf warned, "If that's true, then you are the first charity case that I have heard of. But, I have no reason to doubt you."

They sat there in uncomfortable silence, until finally the wizard spoke again, "Very little good comes from dealing with her. You are lucky that she was in a generous mood―others have not been so."

His stomach cartwheeled nervously within his body, and if possible, he was filled with even more dread at the thought of owing the mage a boon. But, he voiced none of that to his current company, "Lucky, for once, I guess."

The mage stood, stretching his arms awkwardly above his head, "Well I, for one, am ready to retire. Try to get some rest, Thorin."

He nodded and watched the man's back as he returned to camp. If anxiety had been keeping him awake before, he would probably never sleep again. Gandalf's words confirmed that his deal with the Mage of Evendim had been a huge mistake, but he was also equally as sure that, at the time, he had no other option and that nothing could be done for it. If the grey wizard knew that he had taken a gold-oath, he probably would have had a fit.

"He is such a buzzkill."

Jumping at her voice, he immediately scurried backwards as a large, speckled snake slithered over the edge of the cliff. The reptile coiled itself like a rope, spinning and swirling, its brown skin shimmering with light as her musical chuckle filled his head. Morphing, the serpent's scales grew in a blinding flash, the shape becoming humanoid. He cried out in both shock and awe, "You!"

"Me!" she chirped in response. Transformation complete, the Mage of Evendim sat before him, legs and arms crossed tightly against her body. Silvery-blue, the strands of her blonde hair carried the moon rays upon them, and her skin seemed to shimmer like diamonds hewn from the stone of Erebor itself. He sat there staring at her, his heart racing, in both fear and something else that he chose to ignore. He knew she was magical, but she looked mythical, and at that very moment, he realized that he was totally and completely in over his head.

"Have you forgotten how to speak in our time apart, dwarf? I don't recall particularly enlightening conversations, but you did know more than one word, at least."

He shook his head, willing his mouth to move, "What are you doing here?"

"I always keep watch over my assets," she purred, as she stretched out an arm, gently patting him on the knee. "I am never far, and when the conversation got interesting, I decided to listen a little closer."

"Then you know that Gandalf thinks you're trouble."

"I've known what that windbag has thought of me for many years, but that wasn't what caught my attention. This was something far more intriguing…"

She leaned into his space, a movement that both enticed and frightened him, but he had been bullied more than enough by her tonight, and so he held his stance, unmoving. "I believe I may have heard the King under the Mountain lie right through his royal teeth."

She looked so smug, and he could only try to deny her accusation. "No lie left my lips."

Her grin sent shivers down his spine. "Details—the tiny little nuggets that allow a dwarf to wiggle and squirm around the truth. You and I both know that eventually, I will be more than compensated for helping you find the Grey."

Her voice echoed off the stones around them, and he glanced back towards the camp, making sure that she hadn't roused anyone. She looked at him, shaking her head slightly, "Don't worry. They won't wake."

Gandalf's frightened eyes flashed in his mind, and he growled, "What did you do?"

She stared at him in silence with a dismissive affect, and he lost control in panic, grabbing her by the fabric of her robe. "What did you do!?"

For a split second, her pupils were the size of saucers as she hissed, "Nothing detrimental, yet. Your friends only sleep a little deeper so that we may have privacy. But, I suggest you take your hands off of me before I change my mind."

He let go, reluctantly, "Gandalf was right…"

"Gandalf knows little of me. He may suspect much but he can prove none of it."

"And I understand even less, which is why it is time to be done with this. Tell me what you want from me and I will do it. I tire of this annoyance."

Her head went back, the delicate lines of her throat displayed in the starlight, and she laughed so loudly that it only infuriated him more. "That will not be happening. I fulfilled my end of our arrangement, and you will do the same, when I demand it. I do not bend to your whims."

Cradling his head in his hands, he tried to soothe his frustration as he begrudgingly realized that aggression would get him nowhere with her. Not only did she not fear him, he had no doubt that she could kill him quite easily. He would have to use some other tactic, and so he begged only because he knew no one else could hear. Through gritted teeth, he pleaded, "Please...this needs to be over. It is a distraction that I cannot afford to have."

Soft but firm fingers found his chin, and he lifted his head in unison as she brought it up. Her angelic face hovered just inches from his as she spoke, "Distraction? If only it were that simple. Do you really wish to be rid of me?"

Mahar help him, he was dealing with a dangerous creature. She could shift feelings as easily as forms, an innate ability to evoke such a gamut of emotions. Remembering the "others" mentioned by Gandalf, he had no doubt that they had been men who fell to her charms. Swallowing, his throat was drier than sand as he chose his words carefully, "I want to be done with our bargain. I have no objection to you; I would more than welcome your help on my quest."

She smiled as her fingers traced the edge of his beard, and he shivered, the contact more intimate than any he had felt in a very long time. "And you will have it, but only on my terms. I have no tolerance for commands, and I am not prepared to relinquish your obligation to me."

Shifting forward, her breath tickled his nose as she murmured, her lips just a finger's width from his, "I find myself amused by you, and on some level, you are a bit of a puzzle to me, dwarf. That is a novelty for one such as myself. But, do not push me to look beyond your worth."

He bristled at his play-toy description, but it gave him some much needed insight. "I have a name, and if you won't release me, then you could at least do me the favor of using it."

"Names are such useless things, but I can grant you that, Thorin."

"Will you tell me yours?"

The question was a test, as he was most certainly pushing his luck, but she looked into his eyes, and for a second, he thought he saw hers soften. "You already know…"

"That you are the Mage of Evendim, yes. But, that cannot be your given name…"

She paused, and he realized that somehow he had managed to see a side of this woman that no one else ever had. "I have not heard it in a very long time..."

"All the more reason for you to tell me."

"Aisa…" she whispered, "My name is Aisa."