I hoisted my bag on my back and surveyed the camp, no one was there but Ori and Nori. I had only come to collect my spell book, having a bit of trouble with my bandaged hands. It was tucked away in my bag, safe and sound beneath my folded night clothes. I pried it out of my duffel bag and set it under my arm while I clasped the buckles around the bag to keep it shut.

"What's that?" I turned around to see Ori looking at me and the book tucked under my arm. I straightened up and looked down at the old grey book in my arms.

"Oh, this?" I mumbled and held up the book. Ori nodded and Nori turned his attention to me as well. "It's a spell book." I said and walked over to Ori holding out for him to examine. He tentatively took it from my hands and looked over it with eyes full of wonder. He was one of the sweetest dwarves I'd ever met. He was quiet most of the time, polite, and mild.

"Wendell Stone?" Ori asked, looking up at me. The title of the spell book was indeed Wendell Stone, pressed into the cover and painted blue to match the small blue stones that created a mosaic on the borders of the covers.

"A family heirloom." I said with a small smile and a nod as Ori handed it back to me. "There's spells in here that range from lighting candles to levitation and even teleportation." I said with a sly grin on my face. It was thrilling to be able to talk to people about magic and how many possibilities lay within arm's reach.

"That's amazing." Ori said and handed the book back to me. I hummed appreciatively at his compliment and I tucked the book under my arm once more.

"I've got to get back. I want to know why that crazy wizard knew me." I said and laughed at Ori priced together the meaning behind my words. Gandalf was relatively mild, despite his flair for drama and his impeccable timing. I didn't know Radagast, but he sure did seem to know me. What was Gandalf hiding from me?

Ori waved to me as I trudged back around the hill to the troll cave. The other dwarves didn't bat an eye at my arrival, and I could barely make out the grey pointed hat through the trees. Gandalf and Radagast were conversing intently, but I didn't dare to meddle in their affairs. I was alive, unhurt, and not currently being digested by a fat troll; so, I couldn't complain.

I sat down next to Bombur and Bofur and my whole body tensed. White hot pain shot up my abdomen as I sat there, and I bit down on my lip so hard it bled to keep from gasping with the pain. It felt like a needle had been shot up into my stomach, and I waited a moment before it faded away and I tried to relax.

The sudden jolts of pain had become more frequent since I started using my magic more and more often. A dot of blood welled up on my bottom lip and I quickly rolled my lips over one another so I could avoid having a bloody trail down my chin. Thankfully, no one noticed my flinch and lip gouging, so I tried to appear as if I was not being stabbed over and over again with a needle in my abdomen. Easy.

"How long have you known Gandalf?" I looked up in shock as I found Thorin standing before me. His stormy blue eyes were looking down at me with a fierce intensity.

I opened my mouth – barely managing to keep a calm composure – and I gave him a simple answer, "Ever since he sought me out a week and a half before this venture." I said stiffly. My voice betrayed my stiff body and straight face. Thorin saw past my mask of serenity and his eyes narrowed, probably mistaking the hitch in my breath as anxiety instead of pain. He was suspicious of me.

I had only met Gandalf just before the meeting in Bag-End, and the fact that this new wizard knew of me. He'd said the name Bree, and that made me quiver in my boots. The name Bree could easily be derived from Brianna: it was the name of my grandmother, but I tried not to get my hopes up. It had been almost eleven years since I had seen my family. I still remembered all the best parts of my life, though they seemed distant, like a dream drifting across the sea of fantasy that raged on inside my head.

"You know more than you are telling me." Thorin said in a hushed – but no less urgent – hiss. He wanted to trust me, but he saw too many holes in my story.

I looked up at him; surprised as I felt anger swallow my anxiety and bring a note of defiance into every retort I had planned. "I do, but I think that's my business." I said boldly and Thorin's eyes narrowed as he searched my eyes. I stared back with an unseen fire burning behind my eyes. I was grumpy, I hadn't slept all night and hardly any the days before. I felt sick and I wanted to curl up in a ball and stay there.

Thorin grunted and turned away from me. I sighed and slumped backwards. What on earth was the matter with me?

I listened intently as birds took off a fair distance from us, chirping in alarm. I began to sit back up and open my eyes when a low bellowing howl rolled across the valley. My whole body tensed up as everyone lifted their heads in alarm.

"Was that a wolf?" Bilbo asked, nervously looking at me. "Are there wolves out there?"

Bofur stood up and gripped his mattock and axe hybrid tightly in his hands. "Wolf? No, that is not a wolf."

I whirled around at the sound of snarling. My eyes drifted up the hill to the source of the feral sounds. A large brown warg sat crouched in the foliage, hackles shifting under its wiry pelt. It met my amber eyes and its mouth yawned open, displaying rows of yellowed fang as saliva dripped from his muzzle. It snarled and I heard shouts of surprise as it started down the hill, taking long strides as it charged me.

I grabbed one of my swords and unsheathed it with the ringing sound of metal and reeled back, slashing across the warg's throat. Blood sprayed out at me like a guizer and jumped back in shock, but that didn't stop the massive body from crashing into me and sending me flying a few yards away.

I was in shock, and almost didn't process the fall until my body rammed into the ground and I gasped as my air escaped me. I writhed on the ground a moment before I managed to take in air. I was completely aware of the chaos that erupted around me as I struggled on the ground.

A second warg had lunged for Thorin but Kili brought it down with an arrow to its chest and Dwalin quickly drove his axe into the beast's neck, wrenching it out with a sickening crack.

I managed to crawl my way up to my hands and knees, panting hard. Dark blood drenched the front of my shirt, but that wasn't what shocked me most. What scared me was the fact that I felt my ribs scream with every breath.

"Warg scouts," Thorin spoke urgently, "which means an orc pack is not far behind." He breathed as he removed his sword from the body of the warg I had slashed.

"Orc pack?" Bilbo echoed; the fear was evident in his tone.

I felt two arms wrap under mine and help me up. My head lulled back, and my blood-stained hair clung to my throat and chest. Bombur had hoisted me to my feet and supported my body as I stood on my weak legs. I couldn't breathe without feeling pain shoot up my chest and my skin felt terribly cold at the same time.

"Who did you tell about your quest beyond your kin?" Gandalf asked sharply walking towards Thorin.

"No one." Thorin replied in a low voice.

"Who did you tell!?"

"No one I swear!" Thorin roared as Gandalf tried to take deep breaths, unable to find serenity now. "What in Durin's name is going on?" Thorin asked in a hushed voice. I could barely hear them over the ringing in my ears

"You are being hunted." Gandalf informed him stiffly.

"We have to get out of here." Dwalin growled.

"We can't!" I looked up to see Ori and Bifur on the high point of the hill, looking down at us. "We have no ponies; they've bolted." I closed my eyes for a blissful moment and groaned.

"Dang it, Milquetoast." I grumbled, thinking of the pony that had carried me so far already. I couldn't blame him; his name was Milquetoast after all. But now we were devoid of an escape and left to the mercy of an oncoming pack of wargs and orcs.

"I'll draw them off." Radagast announced bravely.

Gandalf turned to his friend. Maybe the brown wizard had really cracked, thinking he could draw off an orc pack on his own. "These are Gundabad wargs they will outrun you." Gandalf said with a note of finality that Radagast chose to ignore.

"These are Rhosgobel rabbits." Radagast pointed to the large rabbits that pulled his sled. "I'd like to see them try."