Shadow's eyes fluttered open, ceding to the sting of consciousness. She was still shackled within her grim prison, her heart igniting embers of resentment. Restlessness took her as she leaned back against the unforgiving stone, closing her eyes to sharpen her focus. She couldn't—no, wouldn't—remain caged when her dwarven allies were in need of her. Their fates beckoned her forth.

As if answering to her silent summons, the chamber door swung open, and her attention snapped to the new figure. "Bard?" she breathed, scarcely daring to believe it. Her face transformed with a flicker of joy. "What are you doing here?" she inquired as she stood, instinctively reaching for him.

A momentary stiffness tensed Bard's frame, but his arms enveloped her in response. "I came to find you," he admitted, a note of grim determination threading his words. "The master's been boasting about how he's got you under his thumb, how he plans to showcase you as his evening's trophy. The dwarves... they desire his downfall, but one does not simply cut down a town master, now does one?" Bard shook his head in quiet frustration, taking her hand and his resolution visible in his eyes.

"Come now, we'd best get you out of this dismal garb and into a warm bath. One step at a time," he suggested, his tone suggesting the unspoken pledge of liberation.

Shadow, her heart full of gratitude, took Bard's hand as they walked together toward her newfound home. Upon arrival, she was met with the warm embrace of her friends. They showered her with affection—hugging, patting, and praising her—until, at last, she truly felt at home. Surrounded by such love and concern, Shadow finally felt a sense of belonging.

As she basked in the warmth of their kindness, Thorin approached, his eyes burning with a deep intensity. "Are you certain they didn't harm you?" he asked, his voice heavy with concern and anger.

Shadow nodded, wrapping her arms around the dwarf. She towered over him, resting her chin atop his head as she pulled him into a comforting embrace. "Yes, I promise," she reassured him. "They never laid a hand on me."

And it was true. The Master and Alfrid, despite their cruel threats, were too cowardly to act upon them. Though their words had stung, Shadow took comfort in knowing they had never physically harmed her.

Thorin's presence filled Shadow's senses, his unique scent a blend of fire-charred meat, earthy minerals, and the sweet, delicate fragrance of roses. It was a heady mixture that spoke of strength, protection, and warmth. As she held him close, Shadow felt a sense of peace wash over her, a balm to soothe the lingering ache of the hurtful words she had endured.

"You'll sleep with one of us tonight," Thorin declared, his voice firm with concern before he reluctantly pulled away. His eyes glowed a fierce red, reflecting his protective nature.

One by one, the dwarves and hobbit offered to share their bedrolls, but Shadow shook her head, declining their kindness. "I might not sleep here at all," she admitted. "I will return to you when you're ready to leave the mountain."

A sense of relief seemed to wash over her as she continued. "It's been too long since I've embraced my true form, hunted beneath the stars, and slept in the open air. Being in that cell reminded me of the strength that lies within me."

Shadow gently patted Bilbo's head, a soft smile gracing her features. "Just reach out to me when it's time to depart." With those parting words, she slipped into the night, disappearing like the very shadows that gave her name.

~❈~

Once Shadow had put the town behind her, she inhaled deeply, savoring the crisp air that carried the familiar scents of the forest. With a sigh of contentment, she unfurled her wings and launched herself skyward. Her Night Fury form emerged, swift and agile, as she soared toward the woodlands nestled at the foot of the mountains.

Fearless in the face of danger, Shadow paid no mind to the distant whispers of Smaug's slumbering breath. After all, a dragon so consumed by his hoard of gold would sleep soundly for quite some time.

Alone in the night, Shadow reveled in the freedom of flight and the power of her true nature, her worries momentarily forgotten.

As the night wore on, Shadow found herself stalking a young fox that crept along the edges of a shimmering pool, its surface dotted with reflections of the stars above. With practiced precision, she swiftly dispatched the creature, its fur parting beneath her teeth.

Settling down to nibble on her catch, Shadow's mind wandered back to the dwarves and their impending departure. Surely, they would leave soon, and when they did, they would need her once more.

Shadow knew that she had been chosen for this company for a reason—to slay Smaug. Though she harbored no desire to end the life of the Great Fire Drake of the North, she understood that it was her part of the bargain. The weight of responsibility settled upon her shoulders as she pondered the task that lay ahead.