"How do you like this?" Rhavaniel held up the first banner for Warg to see, and he thumped his tail in approval.
Rhavaniel thought of all the things she found in the past few weeks, to bring her to this place at this time.
Radagast the Brown had found her of course, but after that, fate had put Rhavaniel's feet to the path of everything she would need to survive.
She had returned to the outskirts of Thranduil's Realm, and scaled a wall to retrieve her pack and weapons. Even Tauriel, with her sharp eyes, had not noticed them stashed high in a tree. Rhavaniel put them there, wrapped up with her old rain cloak, before she dropped to the ground to take off the broken chain around her ankle, during that terrible night of the forge fire. She even had a few new items taken from the forge before it burned - an Elf Guard sword and knife. The blades had been left at the west forge for mending. Rhavaniel had been lucky - these would let her know when Orcs were around, and she needed a good sword.
After securing her pack, Rhavaniel was not done fetching supplies. She managed to sneak into the back of a bakery, and get a months' supply of lembas bread, pine nut oil for cooking and weapons care, and plenty of honey and dried berries.
She circled closer to the Citadel Guard Station, and discovered them preparing for King Thranduil's excursion to Lonely Mountain. She grabbed the largest pack she could lift, and carried it into the woods for inspection.
The pack had a small tent, beautifully crafted lanterns, oil, flints, a large medicinal kit with a generous supply of miruvor and a banner of King Thranduil himself. She was not sure what to do with the last item, but at least the fabric might come in handy. This was a good haul. A rich haul, actually. She turned to reexamine the tent when she discovered it missing. Odd, but that large flat rock was not there before. With a gasp, Rhavaniel realized what she had found - well, stolen, to be honest. This tent was magically woven Lorien material. It would look like stone to anyone passing by. This pack must have been intended for a very close aide of the King's, but now it would be protecting her.
She knew she would find her Warg again, too. She realized that fate had trained her over a lifetime to search, and was finally revealing what she needed to find. She encountered Warg a day's walk north of her former home. She had spotted him while up in a tree, as he struggled to chase down a healthy elk. They passed below her and a well-timed arrow ended the chase in Warg's favor.
She dropped to the forest floor and pulled back her hood, allowing him to recognize her. Without words, they made a pact to stick together on that day. They needed each other.
Rhavaniel and Warg had headed north, toward Lonely Mountain, hiding frequently, traveling mostly at night. Rhavaniel scrounged and hunted every day, and Warg grew stronger on plenty of fresh meat and liniments rubbed on his sore leg.
She raided a fire Watchtower. It had been restocked after Smaug's attack but not manned - all troops were marching on Erebor, ready to walk over the charred bodies of the Dwarves and take the gold and jewels for the glory of Thranduil. Rhavaniel knew that much from listening to fireside talks, as she stalked the outskirts of different camps - Orc, Lake-Town refugee, and Elf scouts. So many tribes were on the road, yet she managed to stay out of sight. She was practicing getting closer to groups, blending in for a moment and slipping out of sight. She had killed a few lone Orcs already that had wandered too close for comfort, and took their gear as disguise. When she darkened the skin on her face and hands with a mixture of clay and ash, she could pass for a hooded snaga at a distance.
The tent had helped them hide in plain sight, too. It had been meant to cover one important Elf and his belongings comfortably. But if Warg curled himself up tight like a pup and Rhavaniel curled up on top of him, they had enough material to cover themselves.
(***************)
"How do you like this?" Rhavaniel held up the first banner for Warg to see, and he thumped his tail in approval.
Rhavaniel smiled. The banner was Dwarf. It was dark blue and silver, and she had lovingly stitched Kili's personal mark boldly in the center. She knew it from his bow.
She held up the second banner. It was King Thranduil's, from the troop items that she had stolen.
"If we are going to lie," she told Warg, "we will lie big. No more of the small stuff for me."
Rhavaniel planned to use these banners as needed, in the battle that was surely coming. She wanted to protect Warg, so that he not be confused with an Orc mount.
She stashed her supplies high in a tree, and tucked Warg under the tent for a well deserved rest.
Rhavaniel had one more test for herself. She took a dozen cleaned fish that she had caught that day, and donned her full Orc disguise. It was only a short walk to the nearest Orc camp. The groups were getting larger - she had even seen divisions in full formation. The group she approached were the lowest snaga that followed the troops, bearing supplies. She walked into the bustling camp and threw the fish in with the pile of food the snaga had been scrounging. No one looked twice at her. A lifetime of being invisible was paying off.