"Quick, quick!" Gandalf called to us as we ran down a narrow tunnel; stone walls closing in about us as we shouldered through. Gandalf turned left, around a bend, and I braced myself against the wall momentarily before Gandalf stopped and stepped aside. I stared out the tunnel and down a sloping mountainside, bathed in amber sunlight as it began to set in the west.

I breathed deeply as the fresh air came into reach. "Quickly!" Gandalf said as I ran past him; barely able to see where I was going – blinded by the sunlight – tripping and staggering out into the sunlight.

I set foot on dried yellow grass that stretched down the slopes of the Misty Mountains. Pine trees covered the mountain side, stretching up and branching out to create a sparce canopy.

All my body seemed to be able to process was the sound of my heavy breathing and the feeling of my feet slamming against the ground as I ran down the slope – angled sideways so I wouldn't fall – and watched the others passed me and leapt over rocks or small mounds of earth that rose and fell.

I noticed the company begin to slow, so I let my legs slow in their pace and I crumpled to the ground, landing hard on my knees, panting, and gasping for air.

"Five, six, seven, eight." Gandalf counted as everyone came to a stop. "Bifur, Bofur. That's ten." Gandalf mumbled. "Fili, Kili! That's twelve. Gandalf said and noticed me sitting down. "Bombur and Valerie. That makes fourteen." He breathed a sigh of relief. We seemed to have gotten everyone out alive. The knowledge that everyone was safe felt amazing. I felt as though I was high of my joy, drifting above the world on cloud nine.

"Where's Bilbo?" Gandalf asked. My stomach dropped as I looked up, my head turning this way and that. I didn't see hide nor hair or Bilbo. My stomach dropped.

"Where is our hobbit?" Gandalf called, "Where is our hobbit!?" Gandalf shouted even louder, desperate for someone to announce Bilbo's presence.

"Curse that halfling! Now he's lost?" Gloin groaned.

"I thought he was with Dori!" Oin pointed.

Everyone looked towards Dori who objected. "Don't blame me!"

"Where did you last see him?" Gandalf asked desperately.

I raised my hand, calling attention to myself. "Bofur and I last saw him before we fell into the tunnels." I managed to splutter. "They call that a porch?" I added with a hiss of pain as I adjusted my shirt.

"I think I saw him slip away when they first collared us." Nori spoke up.

"Then what happened, exactly?" Gandalf prodded, "Tell me!"

"I'll tell you what happened." Thorin growled, stepping up towards me, frowning down at me. At first, I thought he was angry with me until be beckoned Oin over and gestured to me.

"I'm fine." I whispered as Oin knelt beside me, peeling my shirt downward so he could see my stitches... or what used to be my stitches. It was open and slowly oozing blood. "Dang." I mumbled.

"Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it." Thorin continued and I looked up at him, brow furrowed as Oin dabbed at my gash with a cloth dampened with a bit of water from my canteen. "He has thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door. We will not be seeing our hobbit again." Thorin listed off angrily, "He is long gone."

I frowned and shook my head with a reproachful hum. "No." I said and stood up, beside Oin's objection. "I don't think he left. I'm going back to look for him." I said, turning away and I began to walk away.

"Valerie... Valerie!" Gandalf called. "I cannot allow you to go waltzing back in there."

I sighed, refusing to give up on Bilbo. He was brave and intelligent, and not to be left behind. I wouldn't stand for it. "Try and stop me... but don't because I might throw up." I grumbled turning around to face he company. "Bilbo is not gone. I know he wouldn't just leave us, and we can't leave him." I breathed.

Going back into the goblin tunnels was suicide, but I had to know that Bilbo was safe, that we didn't just leave him there to die.

"No, Valerie." I whirled around at the voice of Bilbo. "You're right. I couldn't leave." He smiled. Bilbo walked towards me and wrapped his arms gently around me. I hugged him back as relief washed over me. I used my right hand to wipe away a tear that trinkled down my cheek and I stepped back, looking him over, making sure he was alright.

"Bilbo Baggins." Gandalf chuckled, "I've never been so glad to see anyone in my life."

"Bilbo." Kili grinned, "We'd given you up." I gave Kili a look and cocked my brow.

"Excuse me, but who was about to walk back in there to look for him?" I asked sarcastically.

"How on earth did you get past the goblins?" Fili asked.

"How, indeed." Dwalin mumbled quietly.

Bilbo panted for a moment before he chuckled awkwardly. He seemed like he didn't know where to start, and I didn't blame him. If I had been stuck in there by myself, I wouldn't have known where to start either.

"Well, what does it matter? He's back." Gandalf gave me a sideways glance, giving me a strange look. My brow creased as I tried to make sense of it, but Thorin didn't give me much time to think on it.

"It matters." Thorin spoke, "I want to know... Why did you come back?" he looked at Bilbo, an earnest confusion in his eyes. He wondered why – after all he had said and done – did Bilbo return to us?

Bilbo looked at Thorin for a moment, as if he realized the same thing. "Look, I know you doubt me. I know you always have." Bilbo spoke, "And you're right; I often think of Bag-End. I miss my books." Bilbo smiled lopsidedly and bent his knees, bobbing in his place briefly.

"And my armchair, and my garden. See, that's where I belong. That's home. That's why I came back, because... you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you." Bilbo looked over the dwarves. "But I will help you take it back if I can."

Thorin bowed his head a little and a kind of peaceful silence fell over the company. I looked at Bilbo with a form of respect in my gaze. He was brave and loyal to come back, and he was kind to help us.

Howls echoed around the glen and my head shot up. Wargs, now? Really? I unsheathed my swords and backed away from the way we had come. The howls grew louder, and my anxiety spiked.

"Out of the frying pan." Thorin whispered.

"And into the fire." Gandalf finished for him, "Run. Run!" He shouted. I urged Bilbo on by gently pressing him on with my left hand, blade clenched tightly within it.

Once Bilbo started running, I was able to go my own pace. My leg carried me farther down the rolling mountainside, through the trees. The sun faded quickly from the sky and we were left in darkness.

The warg howls followed us as we ran. I looked back behind me, but I never stopped running. They were close enough that I could see their flaxen eyes glowing in the dark, and that was too close. A warg leapt over us and landed hard beside me. When the warg didn't follow me, I turned to see Bilbo, facing the warg alone.

"Bilbo!" I screeched, running back towards him as the warg charged. For a split second, I thought it had killed him. There was a sickening crunch, but in the end, it was the warg that fell to the side; a sword sticking out of its head. Bilbo was pale in the moonlight, and he looked as though he might be sick. More wargs appeared and I lunged forward, leaping up into the air and coming down over a warg; plunging my sword into the back of its head as I landed on its back and rolled off with a grunt.

Thorin stood over me and pulled me up. I mumbled a 'thank you' and Thorin nodded.

"Up into the trees!" Gandalf shouted, "All of you! Come on, climb!" Gandalf shouted and I reached up to the nearest tree, grabbing a knot in the trunk and pulling myself up. My boots slipped against the bark of the tree, but I managed to pull myself up.

"Bilbo, climb!" I shouted as I clambered higher into the pine. My fingers stuck in sap and my knees were scrapped by the coarse bark.

Once Bilbo was at the trunk of the tree, I extended a hand and used a tendril of scarlet magic to act as hand holds and I pulled him up into the bows of the tree, just out of reach of the snapping jaws of a pair of wargs.

The wolf like beasts swarmed the cliffside around us, baying and snarling savagely. The trees shook as a warg tried to scramble up the tree trunk.

No one moved, no one dared to speak or even shout at the creatures below us. My swords were securely in their sheaths at my sides, eager to be of use. I stared as the dark shapes of the wargs circled us from below and every once and a while I met their golden eyes that seemed to glow eerily in the dark.

The wargs all turned away from us and I followed their gaze. What could have possibly captured their attention? I received my answer when a pale shape emerged out of the dark. A white warg stood mere inches away from the common brown wargs.

The creatures shrank away from the white beast and its rider. My eyes traveled away from the muzzle of gleaming fangs, and the piercing amber eyes.

My gaze drifted upwards, finding my focus fixed upon the orc that sat astride the menacing warg. He was pale, blue eyes lined with a sickly grey. His body was patterned with scars – which were perfectly uniform –.

"Azog." Thorin whispered. I looked up, seeing him clinging to a branch above me. So it was, we were face to face with an entity long thought dead. It was almost like we were looking at a ghost from the past itself.

"Nuzdigid? Nuzdi gast?" The orc whispered in black speech, stroking the head of his warg as he surveyed us; cowering and clinging to the pine branches for dear life. I gulped, somehow understanding his speech. He had asked 'do you smell it? The scent of fear?' It made me sick as he sniffed the air, mocking us.

I could see more orcs astride wargs behind him, all of which hissed and stared at us; malicious glee shinning in their eyes. "Ganzilig-i unarug obod nauzdanish, Thorin undag Thrain." The orc hissed. 'I remember your father reeked of it, Thorin, son of Thrain'. I looked up at Thorin, realization dawning upon his face.

"It cannot be." Thorin whispered, his eyes narrowing but I could see fear swimming in his silvery-blue eyes. After all the stories I'd heard of this orc and his will to exterminate Thorin's people, it was horribly clear that Azog had encountered – and killed – Thorin's father.

I reached up; arms moving of their own accord as I gripped Thorin's wrist comfortingly. My movement had drawn the attention of the defiler, and he glared at Thorin, his blue eyes drifting over to me and locking on my face.

A kind of devious expression grew upon his scar ridden face as he sat up straight on the back of his warg and lifted his mace; pointing it towards the trees we clung to.

"Kod, Toragid biriz," Azog spoke to the other Orcs, mace pointed at Thorin 'that one is mine'.

"Worori-da!" Azog shouted, waving his mace about his head. I had no time to translate this last phrase 'kill the others', for we were beseeched by the awaiting wargs. The wargs lunged forward, trying to climb the sparce pines. They vaulted upward – as high as they could – reaching a branch below me. They scrabbled at the tree trunks and broke off branches between their long and yellowed fangs.

I was jostled to the side and I grabbed the tree trunk tightly, forcing my body to engage and hold on for dear life. The trees shook so violently that I could hear the roots far below us groan and snap.

"Sho gad adol!" Azog shouted 'drink their blood'.

With the weight of the wargs against the trees, the roots gave and were torn from the ground as the tree started to lean sideways.

I closed my eyes instinctively, but someone grabbed my arm, and I looked up to see Balin. "Valerie!" Balin shouted and pulled me up so I balanced on the creaking branches. We were leaning too far and with every inch of height we lost, the warg got even closer.

I leapt forward to the next tree, my hands slipping against the thin branches and I felt to the next branch down. I yelped in shock and fear as I was jarred. I held on as tight as I could and pulled myself up to the branch. The dwarves had begun leaping from one tree to the next and I followed, vaulting myself to the next tree: landing on the balls of my feet.

It was a deadly game of dominos; leaping from one tree to the next, only to have it crumple and collapse behind us. I leapt forth onto the last tree and grabbed a branch tightly, peering over the edge of the cliff that plunged down into darkness. Bofur and Oin held onto me; both of them trying to protect me from falling into the abyss below.

Azog's laughter echoed demonically throughout the glen, and I looked back at him, glaring so ferociously that my brow would surely crinkle permanently. The wargs snapped their jaws below us, and I could see their fangs gleam in the twilight. I felt sick thinking of death at the jaws of these creatures, but It seemed to be inevitable.

I flinched as a ball of fire shot down towards the wargs and rolled across the ground, setting dried grass around it aflame. The wargs howled as the fire grew, and they paced just beyond reach of the orange flames.

I looked up to see who had managed such a thing here and saw Gandalf, lighting pinecones on fire and sending them flying towards the wargs. "Fili!" Gandalf called and tossed one down. Fili caught it and leaned over to light a pinecone Bilbo held up. Pinecones were handed out and set ablaze.

My eyes scanned the wall of fire that built up and I held out my arms, feeling the heat of the fire from here. I pushed energy out into the air and began to aid the fire's expansion and created a boarder around the tree. The wall of fire grew until it was six feet high and burned anything it could reach; including the wargs.

Azog roared angrily as his men and wargs retreated. The dwarves around me pumped their fists and cheered. I clapped my hands and whooped loudly, clapping Bofur and Oin on the back. I wasn't prepared for the tree to shudder and shake, but it did.

I fell forward, but Bofur grabbed me by the jacket wrapped around my waist. I grunted as the pressure aggravated the pain that began to fire off in my body. I gripped the branch as the tree began to lean backwards, creaking and groaning.

"Valerie!" Gandalf shouted and I slammed my hand down on the trunk of the tree instinctively. The tree's bark shivered and bulged as I forced as much energy into the tree as I could. New roots and thick vines erupted from under the bark; wrapping around the old roots and bonding it back together; keeping us from falling completely off the cliff.

I felt my head grow fuzzy and I felt faint. I gripped the tree and heard Gandalf grunting.

Ori and Dori were screaming. "Mr. Gandalf!" Dori shouted and I turned, seeing Ori clinging to Dori's boot. Dori was slipping and my heart felt as though it would explode with terror at the prospect of watching Ori and Dori fall to their deaths.

"Help!" they screamed, just as Dori lost his grip. I couldn't stop the scream that exploded from my throat as I watched Dori and Ori plummet two feet before jerking to a stop. Dori was griping the end of Gandalf's staff, grunting with the effort of keeping the two of them from falling to their doom.

I sighed in relief, but we were not safe yet. Thorin began to pull himself up from one of the branches across from me, and he stood – balancing – on the trunk of the tree. His sword was drawn, and his eyes were locked on Azog.

I stared in shock and confusion as Thorin began to descend the horizonal trunk. Azog was staring at Thorin with a terrible grin on his face. This was what he wanted – he wanted to kill Thorin – and if Thorin went along with his twisted game, he was playing his hand at suicide.

Thorin stepped off the tree and onto the scorched ground. He gripped his sword and held his forearm protectively in front of him – his iron enforced oak shield glowing in the firelight.

Thorin started running, running towards Azog who spread his hands wise in a mocking gesture. I watched in suspense as Azog gripped the fur on the hackles of his warg and snarled as it lunged forward – front paws slamming into Thorin's chest –. The warg landed a few yards away from Thorin and turned.

Thorin struggled to get up, bracing his hand on his knee as he pushed himself off the ground. He wasn't quick enough and Azog swung his mace, knocking it across Thorin's chest, sending him back to the ground.

"No!" Balin howled. Azog was roaring and his warg bent down, clamping its jaws around Thorin's body. I heard his armor crunch and Thorin cried out in pain.

My whole body shook, and I struggled to get atop the trunk. Bilbo was there, and he helped pull me up. Bilbo drew his sword – which glowed blue in the dark – and I unsheathed my swords ready to charge.

"Thorin! No!" Dwalin howled but the branch he gripped broke and he was sent tumbling to the next. It was up to Bilbo and I, but I was stunned, seeing Thorin's body dangling from the jaws of the white warg.

Bilbo was shaking, but we didn't have much time left. Thorin slashed the warg across the muzzle with his sword and it threw him, sending his body flying through the air until he landed, hard, on the ground.

I grabbed Bilbo's shoulder and leaned down. "I'll protect you. Everything will be fine." I whispered breathlessly and Bilo nodded.

Azog had sent an orc to collect Thorin's head, and I knew that if we were going to get it together, it better be now. I raced down the trunk, Bilbo at my heals as I kicked off the bottom of the trunk and sailed through the air; my voice cut through the night like a banshee as I swung my swords in opposite directions across the throat of a nearby orc; sending blood flying through the air.

I landed on the ground, staggering a moment before I stuck my blades into the ribs of his stunned warg.

An orc was squealing behind me, and I turned to see Bilbo getting off of an orc – blood coating his sword and dripping onto the dirt – eyes wide. I stood beside Bilbo, half in front of him, refusing to take my eyes of Azog and his Warg. I held my swords out in front of me; my markings started to pulse and shimmer as my determination and anger grew.

Azog growled to his men; ordering them to kill us. Bilbo swung his sword, trying to ward them off. The wargs neared and I angled my blades, breathing steadily through my nose; my chest rising and falling as I refused to blink. The wargs were growling low in their throat and the orcs atop then drew crude blades and daggers from their sheathes.

There was a cry and I turned, seeing the dwarves were running towards us. Axes and swords were buried in the wiry hair and flesh of the wargs, and the orcs were thrown about as their steeds went wild.

Bilbo screamed and ran forward, stabbing a warg which knocked him back into the face of the white warg. It threw him off and narrowed its amber eyes at him. I lunged forward, spinning around, and slashing the Warg's flank with one of my swords.

The warg howled in pain and spun on me. Azog swung his arm – which had been replaced by a blade prosthetic – towards me. I threw one of my swords in the air, but his strength was overwhelming, and my left sword flew from my hand, skidding across the ground.

I placed my hand into a burning bush and flung a small ball of fire towards Azog. His warg reeled as the ball of flame momentarily blinded them.

Something dark swoped overhead and I ducked instinctively. Looking up, I saw a warg in the talons of a giant eagle. My jaw dopped open as the abnormally large bird dropped the warg off the cliff and circled around. There were about a dozen of the giant avian beasts in the sky, swooping around, carrying off orcs and wargs. One eagle fanned a flame that topped a tree over – pinning a pair of wargs beneath its flaming boughs.

I saw each of my companions lifted up from the ground and set upon another eagle's back. Gandalf leapt off the pine and landed on the backs of one of the tawny brown eagles.

"Bilbo!" I shouted, seeing that he was still on the ground. A screech sounded off behind me and I turned; meeting the eyes of an eagle as it flew towards me. "Bilbo, get up!" I shouted, sheathing my swords, and turning to Bilbo who scrambled up.

"What are you –" Bilbo started but I grabbed his arm and started running towards the cliff. "Uh, Valerie, cliff, there's a cliff!" Bilbo shouted as I gripped him tightly and kicked off the edge of the cliff, and then... we were falling.

Air rushed past my ears and I screwed my eyes shut, listening to Bilbo's screams. There was a shriek and I landed atop something feathery; Bilbo beside me. I opened my eyes and gasped for breath, seeing the ground fall away as the eagle we now sat atop rose into the sky. Its tawny feathers shone in the moonlight and its muscle bulged powerfully beneath the layer of silky feathers.

The tightness in my chest vanished as overwhelming elation swept through my body. I was high on adrenaline, and the prospect of safety wherever we'd be carried. I wrapped an arm around Bilbo, finding myself panting and grinning like an idiot. "We made it!" I gasped, and hugged Bilbo. I panted and pulled back, listening to the angered roar that swept through the valley.

Azog's victory had – quite literally – been swept away from him...