The wind was howling as Namir leapt from one stone ledge to another, claws digging into the rock as he pushed himself up higher. He had been climbing for over an hour. Below he could see the carnage of the valley, the grey swarm of orcs spreading through Laketown. He could see glints of golden armour there too. The elves beginning to move in to support Bard and his men in protecting the ruined city. It hadn't been long but the battle was already blood-soaked and brutal. The orcs had them all outnumbered. 

He heaved himself higher, the stench of death filling his nose as the wind blew it up from below. Giant trolls had joined the battle and fires were spreading in Dale. Dwarves, Elves and humans were dying. Namir leapt up the last ledge and rolled over the stone. Around him ruined walls rose, the keep on the mountain top an exposed skeleton. He shook the snow from his fur and pushed himself up, panting slightly with the effort of the climb. Brown eyes flitted over the battle below as another horn rung out. This time, the sound came from Erebor. 

A great golden bell broke open the gates and twelve familiar figure came running out of the halls. Thorin was finally joining the battle. Namir flicked his tail and turned to pad silently into the ruins as the armies below fought with renewed vigour. From the smell he guessed that there was about fifty orcs hidden in this keep. He wondered how many he could kill before they noticed him. 

The orcs up on the tower went first. There were six, not including Azog, when he got there. It was easy to pounce from one to the other, claws and teeth tearing through their armour like it was bark. Three fell before they could scream. The fourth's cry was cut off by a torn out throat and the fifth just about managed to draw his sword before Namir tore his arm off. The six was pushed off the tower, screaming as the orc fell down the mountain. The panther took the time to push the wooden kite-like structure that they had been signalling with after him before climbing down the tower and prowling away into the shadows.

The next group of orcs were to the west side of the ruins. They were lying in wait in a half destroyed corridor. Waiting for what? Namir had an idea. There were far too many orcs here for it to be anything simple. It was a trap, for who, he had suspicions. It was a trap that Namir was going to do his best to foil. The way his claws tore through all ten of those orcs waiting in the corridor was smugly satisfying. The tight confines of the room hemming the orcs in and limiting the movement of their blades. He tore them apart one by one until the walls were slick with black blood. Yet there was still no sign of Azog. The white orc was hiding. 

He found three more small groups of orcs hidden round the ruins. Groups of six to ten in number, large enough to ambush anyone who stumbled upon them. Anyone other than Namir of course. The orcs had been preparing for dwarves or elves. They never expected the panther leaping down from above or pouncing from the shadows. They were easy, simple and he had rather alot of fun playing with them. (Cats played with their prey and he never pretended that he wasn't sadistic to those who deserved it). He had killed over forty orcs before he heard familiar voices. The clattering of hooves on stone. 

Brown cat eyes peered from the shadows as four rams rode into the main courtyard of the keep. Thorin in the lead with Fili, Kili and Dwalin following up behind. Orcs poured from their hiding places and they slew them all swiftly. Once they dismounted, the rams ran back the way they had come. Their hooves much steadier on the rock and ice than Namir's claws had been. 

Once all the orcs in the courtyard were dead, the four dwarves turned their gazes up the the tower top. The empty tower top. "Where is he?" Fili asked. Azog was not there, nor were the signals. 

"Someone destroyed the signals", Dwalin pointed. "Someone got here before us". 

"I think Azog has fled", Kili said. 

"I don't think so", Thorin muttered. He turned round. The mist was blowing in and shrouding the stone, making it hard to see. "Fili, take your brother, scout out the towers. Keep low and out of sight. If you see something, report back". In the mist and shadow, Namir soundlessly leapt onto a destroyed wall and higher up the tower so that he could peer down on the four dwarves below. He doubted, guessing from the arrow wound in his shoulder, that they would be pleased to see him. Yet Thorin sounded like he used to, before the dragon sickness. Maybe he had one to his senses. 

"Do not engage, do you understand?" Fili nodded at the order. 

"We have company", Dwalin announced as a high screeching echoed. "Goblin mercenaries, no more than a hundred". The green bodies began swarming down over the ruined walls. 

"We can handle them", Thorin shoved Fili forwards. "Go!" The two brother ran off into the ruins was the goblins attacked. From his unseen vantage point, Namir rested his head on his paws to watch. Goblins were below his pay grade anyway. 

--------

Down below in the battlefield Dale had become, a white horse broke through the ranks of orcs. It  cantered up through the streets until the blonde haired rider caught sight of a familiar grey pointed hat. "Gandalf!" He called as he slipped from the saddle, Tauriel dismounting with him. 

"Legolas Greenleaf", the wizard greeted with visible relief. 

"There is a second army", Legolas stated, striding forwards. "Bolg leads a force of Gundabad orcs. They are almost upon us". 

"Gunderbad? This was their plan all along. Azog engages our forces, then Bolg sweeps in form the north". Gandalf's words were dark. Legolas an Tauriel were barely looking at him, too busy sweeping their eyes over the battlefield. The street they were on held a vantage point of being able to see the valley below and the battle still raging on there. Two sets of elf eyes were scouring it, looking for someone.

"The north?" Bilbo choked. "Where is the north exactly?" 

Gandalf's eyes were sad. "Ravenhill". He turned his gaze to the dim outline of the ruins above. A mist was descending on the mountain and only the shadow of the ruins were now visible to those below. 

Bilbo took a couple of steps forwards, eyes searching. "Thorin is up there. And Fili, and Kili, they're all up there!" At his words, Tauriel jolted and glanced up to the ruins above in horror. 

"Gandalf!" Legolas placed a hand on the wizard's shoulder. "Where is Namir?" 

The wizard blinked and sighed. "I do not know. He disappeared when the battle started. Either he went home, or he's still somewhere fighting". 

"He's up the mountain!" Bilbo stated. "I think I saw the cat climbing the mountain. He's in Ravenhill with the others". 

Legolas glanced at the hobbit, then up at the mist covered mountain, then at Tauriel. "Come", the word was not an order but Tauriel followed it anyway. The two elves swung themselves back into the saddle and the horse was off, galloping up the street towards Ravenhill. 

unedited

is Namir salty about the arrow? only a tad.