THE UNSEEN SHADOWS OF WAR

The mountain had been quiet for hours. Jeanne only knew that though because she's been watching it restlessly at the top of an old guard tower since early morning. She knew that the Dwarves inside weren't still though. Thorin and his company had to be preparing for war, the same as the Elves and people of Laketown was doing. It was honestly painful for Jeanne to watch them because she knew how obvious the outcome of the war would be. It was an army against a handful of Dwarves huddled inside a mountain. They can't expect to defend it for too long, much less fight outside their stronghold with what little numbers they have. There had to be something more to it. If not…she wondered if Thorin had really lost his mind.

Bard had already told her what happened when he went to talk to Thorin. He explained in detail that the Dwarf was clearly not himself and acting completely out of character. Even going back on his word and refusing to give the people of Laketown not even a single coin to try and rebuild their lives. In Bard's exact words, he said that the Thorin he met at Laketown was a completely different person than the one who was inside the mountain, now wearing a crown made of iron.

It wouldn't be long until the attack on the mountain began. King Thranduil had already given the order that his army was going to attack at dawn. Which wasn't far away. It was already evening, and nightfall was right around the corner. Jeanne estimated that they only had a couple of hours left until the horns of war began to blow.

Jeanne tore her eyes away from the mountain for the first time in hours. She stood up and began to stretch her aching joints out when she suddenly heard a familiar voice echo through the city below. Which immediately perked her interest.

"Let me through! Make way!"

Jeanne rushed over to the edge of the guard tower and looked down to the streets, scanning around to try and find where the voice was coming from. Looking further up the street, she was finally able to spot a gray beard upon a white horse.

"Gandalf!" she called out with a wide grin.

Jeanne turned around and began to rush down from the tower, ignoring all the sharp and electrifying pains in her body that came from the blisters upon her skin. She made it to the streets just as Gandalf dismounted his horse and turned around to whoever was addressing him.

The look in his eyes when he finally saw her shining red hair was young and lively, springing up joy within himself that has been buried for the last couple of days. He had never been so happy to see her again. Alive and well. "Oh, my dear Jeanne!" he said with a hardy laugh.

For Jeanne, just being able to see a familiar face was enough to start up some well-overdue tears into her eyes. She extended her burned arms out to him and walked right in for a tight embrace, finally being able to feel safe again after Smaug's reign fell.

"It's good to see you again. So…very much," she muttered into the washed-out gray fabric of his clothes.

Gandalf placed a hand on her shoulder and rested the other one on her scarlet hair. He was ecstatic at first, but then turned concerned when he saw the remanence of burns all over her body. Some on her face, but mostly on her arms and neck.

"These burns…dragon fire," he said with a single breath. Gandalf knew that Jeanne naturally had some resistance to fire, since she was born in it, but dragon's fire was slightly different. It was a wicked type of flame that burned hot enough to even hurt someone like Jeanne. "Did you fight the dragon?"

"Smaug's dead. Because of this one here," Bard announced while stepping out of the parting crowd that gathered around them. "A lot of us would've been burned alive if she didn't step in," he said earnestly.

"Did she now," Gandalf said with a voice filled with awe and wonder. He pulled Jeanne's face up so he could look at it, but not just the burns. He can tell that she had grown in the time he was gone. She seemed more mature…but somehow a little more distant than she normally was. "A lot has happened…since I've been gone," he said while gazing around at the people preparing for an upcoming war.


"You must set aside your petty grievances with the Dwarves. War is coming." Gandalf said with deep desperation before Thranduil. "The cesspits of Dol Guldur have been emptied. You're all in mortal danger."

Bard turned his head up at the familiar words. "What are you talking about?"

Thranduil walked across his tent to fill up his wine glass, also pouring Bard one too while he was at it. "I can see you know nothing of wizards. 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." he said coolly while handing him the glass.

Bard looked perplexed for a moment before glancing at Jeanne. "Yes, but...I believe Jeanne mentioned something about this recently."

Jeanne turned her lips into a thin line, now recalling that she actually did. "I did, though it was just a feeling at the time. Dol Guldur though…that is probably why my dreams of been nightmarish recently." She pushed her brown together and pondered on the recent developments. "But how are we in danger? What exactly is happening?" she said and looked to Gandalf for answers.

"Armies of Orcs are on the move," he answered darkly. "These are fighters, they have been bred for war. Our enemy has summoned his full strength."

Thranduil didn't look quite convinced with Gandalf's supposed findings. "Why show his hand now?"

"Because we forced him. We forced him when the company of Thorin Oakenshield set out to reclaim their homeland. The Dwarves were never meant to reach Erebor, Azog the Defiler was sent to kill them."

"And to kill me too…as they always wanted," Jeanne suddenly spoke up with a dreadful voice. She met Gandalf's eyes and saw how reluctant he was to even agree with her. Despite knowing it was true. "There is no need to deny it. We've always known it." She looked away from everyone's piercing eyes and stared down at the bandages that covered her hands, thinking back to her conversation with Smaug. "My existence…is about the only thing holding back a certain someone…from trying to return."

"We don't know that." Gandalf quickly corrected to save Jeanne's heart. He could already see that she was thinking of blaming herself. "Azog's master is trying to seek control of the Mountain, not just for the treasure within, but for where it lies, its strategic position. This is the gateway to reclaiming the lands of Angmar in the North. If that fell Kingdom should rise again Rivendell, Lórien, the Shire even Gondor itself will fall."

"These Orc armies you speak of, Mithrandir," Thranduil spoke up. "Where are they?"

Gandalf hesitated, already knowing where this was heading. "I don't know."

Thranduil then turned his attention to Jeanne. "And you, Naur Nún. Do you have any idea where this army is?"

Jeanne bit down on her lips and looked away for a moment. "I'm afraid I don't." She dared herself to look back up and saw Thranduil's unshaken face, same as always. "You don't believe us, do you," she realized as a sharp gasp escaped her lips.

"I think you're trying to save your Dwarvish friends. And I admire your loyalty to them. But it does not dissuade me from my cause."

Gandalf looked beside himself and beyond frustrated. He knew Dwarves were stubborn, but he didn't think that Elves were the same too. "Since when has my council counted for so little? What do you think I'm trying to do?"

"Mithrandir, let's not forget that you were the one who started this. You will forgive me for finishing it," he said coldly to the old gray beard, leaving both him and Jeanne silent and unsure of what to say next.

"This is maddening," Bard spoke. "There is no way he can win this fight."

"That won't stop them." Spoke an oddly chipper voice that Jeanne hadn't heard for a while. They all looked to the front of the tent and saw the Hobbit; Bilbo Baggins pop his head inside. "You think the Dwarves will surrender? They won't. They will fight to the death to defend their own."

Gandalf laughed joyfully once he saw his old friend. Especially happy to see him in one piece. "Bilbo Baggins!" he smiled

Jeanne would've jumped out of her seat with joy if a shocking pain throughout her body didn't keep her seated. "Bilbo?" she said with a small voice.

Bilbo flinched when his eyes finally fell on Jeanne. "Jeanne…Oh." He choked up at first, taking in her appearance for a moment and cringing at how painful it looked. He didn't know whether to scold her or hug her for giving him such a scare, making him believe that she was dead. Instead, she offered her hands out and he walked over and took them, giving her small hands a good squeeze. "Good, good, good." He muttered while breathing in slowly. "You…had me worried sick. I didn't even know if you were…" He was completely over himself and didn't even finish the sentence.

"Dead? Well…not yet it seems."

Thranduil stared curiously at the Hobbit. "If I'm not mistaken, this is the Halfling who stole the keys to my dungeons from under the nose of my guards."

Bilbo Baggins sucked in a deep breath and looked away awkwardly. "Yes. Sorry about that." He quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out something wrapped in a piece of cloth. "I came to give you this." He unraveled it and showed then a gem that looked to be made of white light. It shined so brightly that one would believe that it held pure magic inside. It was the Arkenstone.

Thranduil breathed in a sharp breath when his eyes laid upon the most priceless gem inside the mountain. "The Heart of the Mountain. The King's jewel."

"And worth a king's ransom," Bard said in a sharp voice.

Jeanne just looked beside herself and didn't know what to say. She covered her mouth with her hand and just stared at the gem, blinking a million times to make sure it wasn't another harsh dream. "Bilbo…You're playing a very dangerous game right now," she said darkly.

"How is this yours to give?" Bard asked.

"I took it as my fourteenth share of the treasure," Bilbo answered him.

"Why would you do this? You owe us no loyalty."

"I'm not doing it for you." He corrected sternly, earning everyone full attention in the second. "I know that Dwarves can be obstinate and pigheaded and difficult. And suspicious and secretive with the worst manners you can possibly imagine, but they are also brave and kind and loyal to a fault. I've grown very fond of them, and I would save them if I can. But Thorin values this stone above all else. In exchange for its return, I believe he will give you what you were owed. There will be no need for war," he said, holding his breath with every word and praying to the gods that it would work.


Daylight faded fast and the night was just about on them as Bilbo wandered through the city of Dale. He looked around when he finally spotted a flare of Jeanne's red hair. She was sitting by one of the dried-up fountains and was unwrapping the bandages from her arms, completely exposing her blistered red skin. It looked like she was trying to clean them with a wet cloth, but it looked painful, judging by how much her face cringed up with every light touch.

"Are you alright?" he asked while stepping up to her.

Jeanne looked up and gave a half-hearted smile that ached with pain. "As much as I could be, but not nearly enough for what will happen tomorrow." She breathed out an exhausted breath before pointing over to a roll of new bandages. "Could you pass me those bandages, please?"

"I could do better. I can help you wrap them." He took the bandages into his hands and sat down beside her. Jeanne held out one of her scalded arms and stayed still as Bilbo began to wrap her up as carefully as he could. "Can I…ask you something?" he asked suddenly out of the blue.

"What is it?"

"It's about what you said. You mentioned…that I was playing a dangerous game. Are you implying that I should be afraid of Thorin?" he dared asked.

Jeanne looked hesitant while biting down on her lips. "I'm afraid so. It was something weighing heavily on my mind…and it appears that it has come true. There is a curse that lies within that mountain. Dragon-sickness…is what it's called."

"What does it do?"

"It seeps into the hearts of all who come to the mountain. It gives them greed…an unrelenting greed for gold," she said glumly.

Bilbo looked a bit taken back. "I'm not afraid of Thorin, and you shouldn't be too."

Jeanne pressed her lips closed and avoided his curious eyes. "I never said I was afraid of Thorin. I'm worried, is all."

"Then you should see him." He instantly felt Jeanne flinch and quickly pull her arm away from him.

"What could I possibly do…that you haven't done already?" she said in an oddly quiet voice while still avoiding eye contact.

"Because these pleas will be coming from you. I know Thorin cares about everyone in his company…but I know he cares for you the most. He will listen if it's you. I know he will."

Jeanne laughed a bit, but it sounded disheartened. "Even if that was the case. There is no way I could privately talk to him. He blocked off the entrance, remember?"

Bilbo had to stop for a moment and think. "Well…I used a rope to get down. You could climb up that."

"My dear Bilbo…in case you haven't noticed." She held up her other hand and showed him her burns. "I really don't have the strength right now to climb a rope."

"Right…Then how about the other entrance. The one we used to first get into the mountain. It shouldn't be that hard for you, right?"

Jeanne nodded her head slowly before lowering it to the ground. "It's a pretty thought. It really is, but you have far too much faith in me. The Dwarf we met in Bag End…is not the same one who is currently brooding inside that mountain. I'm sorry, Bilbo Baggins, but I think this is far out of my range of abilities." She took the roll of bandages from him and quickly finished wrapping her wounds.

"It's not about that." Bilbo stood up fast and turned his whole body around to face her. His sudden actions were even enough to make her jump a little. "If you think it is…then you're wrong. I've seen how he looks at you. How he listened. How he worries. Thorin…he…" He sucked back his words and stared at a disbelieving look that fluttered across Jeanne's eyes. It was like she already knew what he was going to say before he even said it. "Thorin is …simpler than you think he is. If there's anyone he'll listen to… then it's you." He didn't say another word more to her and turned around and left, letting Jeanne think her choices over.