The night passed without event, but as the first light of dawn crept in, a sound stirred Shadow from her rest—heavy footsteps making their way over the floorboards. Her body tensed, instincts on alert, but then a deep and soothing voice calmed the tension in her muscles.

"Do not be alarmed, great Night Fury. I have no quarrel with you. As a friend of Gandalf the Grey, you too are my ally. Rest now," the voice rumbled, as tranquil as the starlit sky.

Unable to resist the lull of the voice, Shadow felt sleep envelop her once more. The presence of the skin-changer, revealed through his gentle approach, promised no harm. They were under the watch of an unseen guardian, and with this reassurance, she drifted back into the comforting embrace of slumber.

~ ✻ ~

Flames licked the edges of the sky in a nightmarish vision, and agonized screams tore through the silence. Shadow thrashed, her slumber shaken by tumultuous memories, ones as clear and vivid as if she were living them again. She recognized them now—these were no mere dreams, but ghostly recollections of a terrible past.

She wrapped her wings tightly around herself, seeking protection from the horrors of her mind. But from the palace in the heavens, a formidable figure emerged—the Red Death, the Queen Dragon herself, an embodiment of destruction and fear.

Her breath hitched, her heart raced; Shadow faced not just any adversary, but the very demon of her prior life, a tyrant she thought she had left behind. It was a confrontation within the realm of dreams, yet it held the power to terrify as though it were real. Her muscles tensed as if preparing to engage in a battle that had once defined her existence.

In the haunting realm of her dream, the great Red Death loomed over Shadow, its voice echoing like thunder. "Foolish little Night Fury, you hid in the Hidden World while your kind suffered under my reign. You are no better than Wormtongue, the servant of Grimmel the Grisly. To all, you are dead, and to Toothless, you are forgotten. I will snap your neck before you ever see my throne. The Hidden World will be infested with humans, and you cannot hide from their dominion. Together, they will shred the dragon race to pieces, and you are the cause of it all. Middle-earth cannot save you, Arda is no more, the Valar despise dragons, and the minions of Morgoth will find you. The life you cherished will be splintered, Gandalf will perish, Thorin, Fili, Kili, all dwarves, all hobbits—all that is good in this world will burn in dragon fire. Your fire," the Red Death snarled, landing heavily across the rugged paths of the mountainside.

Shadow shuddered, recoiling as the Red Death enclosed her within its colossal claws, grinning viciously with menacing yellow fangs bared in full display.

Yet in the depths of her terror, a spark flickered—a defiant glimmer that refused to be extinguished by the specter of her fears. Shadow knew this to be a battle of the psyche, a challenge pitched within her dreamscape. She would not succumb to the despair and prophecies of destruction. With each labored breath, she sought her inner strength, the resolve that had carried her through realms unimagined, and prepared to rise against the darkness that threatened to consume her heart and the future she fiercely sought to protect.

Driven by instinct more than thought, Shadow bit down fiercely on the Red Death's claw. Her teeth sank deep, drawing thick, black ichor that wept from the wound. The Red Death's agonized scream pierced the air as it released her. She roared in pain as her wing buckled beneath her, and she felt the world spin wildly off-kilter.

With a bone-jarring CRACK, the dream landscape shattered. Shadow plummeted through the ruptured illusion, the force of her descent overwhelming her senses until she was enveloped by darkness, consciousness slipping from her grasp.

~ ✻ ~

"Shadow, Shadow," a voice called through the foggy edges of her consciousness. Jolting awake, Shadow found herself back in the barn. Beorn, in human form now, towered over her with a concerned expression. He wasn't as large as her draconian form, but as a man, his stature was still imposing.

"B... Beorn," she gasped, her breath hissing out like steam from a locomotive.

"It's alright, Shadow. You're safe here; it was only a dream," Beorn soothed, offering her a thick, red cut of meat. She tore it into pieces ravenously, and after sating her hunger, she turned her attention to the dwarves and Bilbo, who stood to the side. Their scents were steeped in worry and grief—they had heard her scream and felt their hearts splinter with fear for her.

Shadow made a mental note to reassure them that it was only a nightmare, but she would need a moment to collect herself. The dream had been vivid, harrowing, but she was among allies, and in the light of day, she could feel the strength returning to her bones.

"I'm all right," Shadow rumbled softly, extending a wing to pull Bilbo close. Fili and Kili quickly clambered to her side, and the rest of the dwarves gathered around too, forming a caring circle.

Gandalf soon joined, patting her on the shoulder. "I awoke them as quickly as I could when I heard you, my dear," he said, and Shadow glanced up at him, grateful to have found such a steadfast friend.

As the memory of the dream started to fade, she breathed a sigh of relief and turned her gaze to Beorn. "Thank you for letting us stay, my good man," she said with earnestness.

Beorn nodded, "Anything for friends," he responded and stepped outside, returning shortly with a bit of cooked food for the dwarves. They wouldn't let Shadow out of their sight, steadfast in their presence. They would not allow her to face any shadows alone.

"Now that we are fed," Gandalf said, rising to his feet with his staff and hat in hand. "It is time we make our move."

He nodded to Beorn who returned the gesture. "I will prepare the horses for you," said Beorn, striding off to ready their transportation.

Shadow watched him go, her thoughts meandering through the branching paths of her adventure. It was far from over, and soon it would be time to reveal her true self to the dwellers of Mirkwood. Her prior existence had been mostly near the Lonely Mountain, but she had wandered through Mirkwood's vast expanse on occasion—never though to the halls of the great Elvenking Thranduil.

The prospect of meeting the formidable elf gave rise to a tickle of nervous anticipation; she had never expected to get this chance, but here it was. Well, if his reaction was less than favorable, they would just have to deal with that when the time came. For now, readiness drew their focus, with hooves set to tread across new ground and wings poised to meet the challenges ahead.