It was much later in the day that the group had made it down off of the Carrock. They were passing into the green hills that would lead them to the Greenwood. Unfortunately, they were still low on supplies and only on foot. And they still had such a long way to go before their journey's end.

To make matters worse, as the Twilight began to roll-in, the group could hear the howls reaching far over the mountains. Azog's Warg pack was still after them, and it was clear that they were close to tracking them down.

"I thought we'd lost them," Link said. "The Eagles took us quite a distance."

"The Orcs won't give up so easily," Thorin said. "We're in trouble."

"No so much," Link said. "Not just yet; we've still got a head-start on them. Maybe if we send out scouts to survey the area, we can see how far off the Orcs are. C'mon; we've got no time to lose."

Link was already going off, climbing a nearby rock to get a new vantage point. It wasn't long before Ori and Fili followed him to scout the area. Thorin gave a slight smirk to admire Link's take-charge attitude; he hadn't even waited for orders or approval from the rest of the group before going off. Thorin took a moment to give a thought about how just the day before, he's be greatly annoyed by Link's daring attitude. Ever since he'd met the Hylian in Bag-End, he'd assumed that the boy was boasting his skills; treating the quest like a game, not knowing of the true dangers they'd find themselves in. He'd assumed that the Dragon-Trophy the boy had in the Hobbit-Hole was a decoration he'd purchased, as were all the weapons he'd had about the house. He was impressed to learn that the boy knew how to use them. And Thorin had grown to accept that the boy was just as capable as his boasting earlier. Thorin actually had begun to believe that Link was capable of killing the Dragon.

But regardless of what he was now thinking, Thorin could not deny that Link had proven to be quite a useful burglar. And then the thought came to him at how crucial Link was to the success of this quest; in fact, the success of Gandalf's plan completely depended on him. Thorin gave an inquisitive look to the Wizard, who was standing by the head of the group, visibly looking worried. He'd thought about what it was that brought the group to undertake this quest. It all began when Thorin and Gandalf met almost twelve months ago...

Thorin Oakenshield had just arrived in Bree, the small town on the borders of the Shire. Thorin had undertaken a long mission with no success; he was tired and miserable, and the rain was coming down hard over his cloak. He wanted nothing more than to stop for the night, get dry and have a full night's rest before heading for home in the Blue Mountains in the morning.

Thorin entered the town of Bree, trying his best to not draw too much attention to himself. Thorin was no stranger to the world of Men; for more than 100 years, he'd labored in the villages of Men, seeking work as a humble sword-smith, ever since...Well best not to be thought of. Thorin had worked hard to lead his people to a new beginning, and he had done just that. The Dwarves of Erebor had found a new home in the Blue Mountains; it wasn't the glory they once knew, but they were able to apply their trade, and it was an honest living...a peaceful one. But still, despite nearly fifteen decades, Thorin never truly felt at ease in the world of men; the tall-folk tended to mind him, as they were accustomed to dealing with Dwarfs in the past...But tonight of all nights, Thorin felt that he was not passing through Bree unnoticed...

The Dwarf had finally reached the doorstep of The Prancing Pony, the Inn that lay at the heart of Bree. The inn was popular with all sorts of travelers and visitors; they had warm rooms, dry beds, and most importantly, hot food and cold ale – and the doors were open for anyone who could afford it. Thorin was sure he'd have his fill of all of it, before the night was through. However, before he crossed the threshold, Thorin had sensed that something was wrong. Turning his head ever so slightly, his intuition had given him the distinct impression that the two cloaked figures loitering just a few yards away from the Inn were following him.

It wasn't long after Thorin had entered the Inn that he found himself seated in the tavern near the fireplace. It was just what he needed to get warm, and was a perfect time to enjoy a pipe of tobacco. The Tavern was busy with all sorts of people tonight; mostly of the Big-Folk, as people in these parts tended to call them. But mixed in with congregation of tall men and women, was the occasional Halfling, shorter even than a Dwarf. Thorin understood that they were called Hobbits, and they tended to be most frequent in these parts. They were gentle-folk who mostly kept to themselves. Thorin didn't have any personal grudge against Hobbits, but he often found himself frustrated with their ways; their tendency to hide themselves off in their homes of comfort and luxury, completely oblivious to the workings of the world. Needless to say, he didn't think much of Hobbits.

"Oh, watch it!" he heard a woman's voice call out, breaking through the raucous laughter in the tavern. It was from the waitress, returning to Thorin's table with his order.

"Sorry, darling," the patron who bumped into her called back. She turned away and dodged the other patrons making her way back to Thorin's table. Thorin put his pipe aside in the ashtray when he saw her approach.

"There you are," she said handing him his pint of ale.

"Thank you," he said taking it. She had set the plate down before him, and he took to it. It seemed to be a meager meal; a half loaf of bread, a slab of cheese, and two olives. But to Thorin, it was a plentiful bounty. He tore the bread in two and began to eat. And as he ate, his eyes lazily scanned through the Tavern. For a moment, he thought he'd spotted an elf at the bar. The stranger seemed to be trying to barter gemstones to the Innkeeper. Thorin gave a light scoff seeing the transaction take place, believing that some people would have all the luck in the world. However, he soon felt unnerved; he could feel eyes watching him...

He turned to his right to look across the tavern, where he noticed a large man with a bald head, one bad-eye, and a beard, staring at him while he smoked his pipe. Thorin slowly turned away and took a glance over by the windows off to his left. Seated near the windows was a younger man, with unkempt hair and a beard; he too was staring directly at Thorin. Both of these men looked to be up to no good. Thorin didn't know why, but he was certain something was going to happen.

He slowly lowered his bread down to his plate. And it wasn't long before both men made their move. From out of his peripheral vision, he saw both men stand-up from their spots, and begin to move toward him. Thorin wasn't intimidated but he did cautiously move for his sword; if these men, whoever they are, thought they could take him so easily, they were gravely mistaken.

Suddenly a stranger appeared at Thorin's table and sat down across from him; it was the old man, with a long grey beard and traveler's cloak that had been seated at the bar moments earlier.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked pleasantly. Before Thorin could answer, the old man turned to the barmaid as she passed. "I'll have the same," he ordered politely. He then turned to smile at Thorin.

Thorin was of course caught off-guard by this, but he gave a sigh of relief when he noticed the two would-be assassins backing off and returning to their seats, at the arrival of the Old Man. Thorin was at first puzzled as to why they hesitated, until he finally caught a look at the Old Man's face in the dim candle light; he recognized him immediately.

"I should introduce myself," the old man began. "My name is Gandalf; Gandalf the Grey."

"I know who you are," Thorin said curtly with a nod. Gandalf smiled and brought his hands together.

"Well now, this is a fine chance," Gandalf said. "What brings Thorin Oakenshield to Bree?"

Thorin was hardly accustomed to divulge his personal matters to strangers. But his father, Thrain had been friends with Gandalf in the past, and the Wizard had just staved off an attack from the two men just now. Thorin was tired, his defenses were lowered, and he felt obliged to indulge the Old man; perhaps it was a chance to get some useful information in return.

"I received word that my father had been seen wandering the wilds near Dunland," Thorin said. "I went looking...I searched for weeks...I found no sign of him." Thorin turned away dejected.

Gandalf gave a compassionate and understanding look.

"Ah...Thrain," Gandalf said. Thorin reacted to that and slowly sat up, now looking defensive.

"You're like the others," he said. "You think he's dead."

"I was not at the battle of Azanulbizar," Gandalf said.

"No...but I was," Thorin said. He thought deeply about what happened that day; a near blank and deep expression came over Thorin's face, and it wasn't long before he was lost in his memories.

"My grandfather, Thror," Thorin continued. "was slain..."

Thorin once again found himself in the battle, outside the gates of Moria, surrounded on all sides by armored Dwarfs and Orcs, the ringing of clashing blades filled the air. He saw the horrid Gundabad Orc, Azog the Defiler, holding his Grandfather's – his king's – head by his long hair, and tossing it into the crowd.

"No!" Thorin cried as he attempted to charge Azog. But he found his path blocked by another Dwarf; one with a longer beard, tattooed forehead and a bulbous nose. It was his father, Thrain II. He grabbed Thorin and pushed him back, pressing the handle of his large hammer into the Dwarf Prince's chest. Thorin finally looked at his father; his worn-torn and bloodied face, and a severe bruise overcoming his left eye.

"Father?" Thorin asked finally recognizing him.

"Stay back!" Thrain ordered. He was ordering Thorin to retreat and flee from Azog.

"No! I will fight with you!" Thorin said grabbing his father's arm.

"Azog means to kill us all!" Thrain said with his hissing, raspy voice. "One by one, he will destroy the Line of Durin! But by my life, he shall not take my son! You will stay here!"

With that, Thrain turned and charged toward Azog, raising his hammer. Thorin wanted to obey his father's orders, if only to preserve the line of Durin. But as he could soon see, his father was half-blind from his injuries, and fatigued...He could barely lift his hammer. He stood no chance.

"My father led a charge towards the Dimrill Gate," Thorin continued. In his mind's eye, he could see himself as a young Dwarf Prince, calling out desperately for his father. "He never returned..."

He viewed the rest of the battle as if it were all a dream. Had it even truly happened? Had he alone stood against Azog the Defiler, and felled him with a mortal wound to his arm? Had they truly won the battle that day, because of him? No...There was no victory to be had that day; not when the count of the dead had grown so large.

"Thrain is gone, they told me," Thorin said. "He is one of the fallen...But at the end of that battle, I searched amongst the slain...to the last body." He turned his gaze back to Gandalf and gave him a soulful look. "My father was not among the dead."

"Thorin," Gandalf began in a patient tone. "It's been a long time since anything but rumor was heard of Thrain..."

"He still lives...I am sure of it."

Gandalf gave a patient moment to quietly ponder Thorin's desire. He admired Thorin's love and loyalty to his father, if only to give himself comfort. In the end though, Gandalf needed information from Thorin, and he needed to be tactful in order to retrieve it. After a moment of peace, he decided to pose the question.

"The ring your grandfather wore, one of the seven given to the Dwarf-Lords many years ago," Gandalf said. "What became of it?"

Thorin thought for a moment and swayed his head, believing the manner to be trivial.

"He gave it to my father before they went into battle," Thorin said.

"So Thrain was wearing it when he," Gandalf's eyes widened but he calmed himself down to be more tactful. "When he went missing."

Thorin only gave a single nod to confirm it. Gandalf now considered Thorin's search to be more important; if Thrain had the ring, and Thorin had not found his body, then he certainly had not gone missing by choice. But it was probably not the time nor place to discuss this.

"That's that, then," Gandalf said quietly.

"There you are," the waitress said as she laid down a pint of ale and the same dinner-plate for Gandalf. Gandalf moved the plate in front of himself, and the Waitress soon left the table.

"I know my father came to see you before the Battle of Moria," Thorin said. This drew Gandalf's gaze. "He would often come to you for counsel; for advice. What did you say to him?"

"I tried to dissuade his course to take-back Moria," Gandalf said. "Your Grandfather's ambition to reclaim the mine was foolhardy, and I urged them to stop and set their attention and resources elsewhere."

"Ah, you tried to convince him to abandon the Dwarf-Lands to the Orcs?" Thorin said with a sneer.

"Not my intention," Gandalf said. "I instead urged him to march upon Erebor."

Gandalf's words struck Thorin and caused him to freeze, locking his bewildered eyes on Gandalf.

"-To rally the seven armies of the Dwarfs," Gandalf continued. "to destroy the dragon and take back the Lonely Mountain...And I would say the same to you; take back your homeland."

Thorin's eyes narrowed as he looked at the Wizard. Suddenly, he understood so much about this little encounter of theirs. He plainly set his plate aside and lifted his pint to take a drink.

"This is no chance meeting, is it, Gandalf?" he asked

"No...it is not," Gandalf said now setting his own plate aside, creating an open space on the table between the two of them. "The Lonely Mountain troubles me, Thorin...That dragon has sat there long enough. Sooner or later, darker minds will turn towards Erebor. And I feel it has already begun."

"What do you mean?"

"I ran into some unsavory characters whilst traveling on the Greenway," Gandalf said. "They mistook me for a vagabond."

"I imagine they regretted that," Thorin said with a smirk, knowing of Gandalf's true abilities in a fight despite what outward appearances would suggest. Gandalf revealed a piece of brown parchment from his cloak. He unfolded it on the table and set it in the center for Thorin to see. There were black markings written across the brown cloth in what looked like charcoal. They looked like slashes across it.

"One of them was carrying a message," Gandalf said. Thorin began to reach for the parchment to bring it close, hoping to make out lettering.

"It is Black Speech," Gandalf said when he saw Thorin reaching. At that moment, Thorin's eyes returned to Gandalf's and his hands slowly and cautiously retreated, now too fearful to even touch the cloth. Gandalf nodded.

"A promise of payment."

"For what?" Thorin asked.

Gandalf took a deep breath, looking at Thorin, and said plainly, "Your head..."

Thorin's eyes shot up from the parchment and he stared at Gandalf quite dramatically. Suddenly the motives of the two men from earlier had become clear; they were bounty-hunters, seeking to kill him for this reward. Thorin conducted himself rather calmly, considering he had just learned there was a price on his head, and had narrowly escaped two assassins this night alone.

"Someone wants you dead," Gandalf continued. "Thorin, you can wait no longer. You are the heir to the Throne of Durin."

Thorin's eyes softened with clarity as he understood Gandalf's motives in showing him all of this, as the wizard revealed his plans.

"Unite the armies of the Dwarfs," the Wizard said. "Together, you have the might and power to retake Erebor. Summon a meeting of the Seven Dwarf Families; demand they stand by their oath."

Thorin had almost heard his fill of this and was beginning to lose his patience. He leaned toward Gandalf and spoke in a hushed but aggressive tone.

"The seven armies swore an oath to the one who wields the King's Jewel; the Arkenstone. It is the only thing that will unite them, and in case you have forgotten, that jewel was stolen by Smaug!"

Thorin took a moment to calm himself before he made a scene. It was at this point that he noticed that both of the assassins had left their seats and joined together at the far end of the bar. They were leaving. They must have considered Thorin to be a lost cause now that the Wizard was with him. Both he and Gandalf watched as they turned and left the Tavern. Gandalf slowly turned back to Thorin...

"What if I were to help you reclaim it?"

Thorin looked even more bewildered, but this time, a faint glint of hope appeared in his cold and weary eyes. "How? The Arkenstone lies half a world away, buried beneath the feet of a fire-breathing dragon..."

"Yes, it does," Gandalf said nodding. But then suddenly the Wizard smiled; a warm and confident grin, full of knowing. And the next words he spoke changed Thorin's life.

"Which is why we're going to need a Burglar..."

Link climbed over the rock to look out over the edge. He stayed low to the ground, stealthily. This was even worse than he'd initially thought. He spotted the Warg Riders on the slopes of the mountain just across from his vantage point. They still had quite some distance between them, but while atop the Wargs, the Orcs could easily run them down. They had to get moving, quickly.

And that's when Link spotted the pack come to a stop in the setting sun. He could clearly visibly see the leader of the pack, astride a White Alpha-Warg; Azog the Defiler. Seeing him filled Link with rage. Had it not been for their precarious surroundings, with more time to spare, Link was certain he would've defeated the Pale Orc. In their brief encounter, he'd analyzed Azog's fighting strategy; he was big but clumsy, strong and over-dependent on brute-force; he was used to overpowering his opponents quickly, but unable to adapt to a different strategy during a fight. Had the fight gone on, just a few moments longer –

Azog turned toward the peak Link was spying them from. Link quickly ducked out of the way to avoid being seen. The monstrous Pale Orc scanned the area, trying desperately to find any sign of the Dwarfs. He grunted and snarled before kicking his Warg to move on, leading the group away. Link cautiously looked back-up over the rocks; they hadn't spotted him. But they were spreading out, combing the area. It wouldn't be long before the Wargs picked up their scent, and they'd be on the group.

Link suddenly heard a growling sound off to his left; it was incredibly deep and loud; deeper than the Wargs and more guttural; whatever made the sound was bigger. There was something else out there in these woods. He could hear the growling and the rustling in the trees off to the side. Whatever it was, it was in there; and with the Dwarfs so close by, whatever it is could be a real danger to them. He looked back at the path that would lead him back to the Dwarfs, then he looked over the rock back to the Orc Pack, where he saw the riders now commanding their Wargs to ride down the steep slopes of the mountain.

Taking a deep breath and biting his lip, Link slowly moved away from the rock and headed into the forest to investigate the noise.

Ori had separated from Kili in order to scout the area, he had his sling-shot at the ready. He had seen Link go this direction and heard some rustling up above him. But he too had also heard the growling from before. He was quite startled. Cautiously, Ori climbed up onto a bit of rock and looked over the mountain. He too saw the Orc Pack making its way in their direction. But it wasn't long before another loud, growling snort brought him out of it.

Ori dropped down and pressed his back against the rocks. He could hear the growling sound off nearby. He slowly began to shimmy around the rocks until he could look around them. When his gaze finally turned the corner, he saw an enormous black body perching on a rock overlooking the cliff. It was an incredibly enormous black bear; and it was truly enormous, almost twice the size of a Warg. Needless to say, it was unreasonably huge to that of a Dwarf. It was snarling and snapping its jaws in the direction of the Orc Pack as it observed their movements.

Ori thought it would be a good opportunity to slip away from the creature and go warn the others about it; something that big could do serious damage to their group. The creature suddenly snarled and roared a thundering bellow that ringed out across the canyons. Ori pressed himself back against the rock, too fearful to move. He had hoped that the bear was merely roaring at the Orcs and hadn't spotted him; but by Durin he was frightened...

And then Ori heard some rustling; something moving through the branches and foliage of the forest's edge just before the cliff. He had believed for a moment that the creature was leaving. He slowly began to extract himself from the rock and take his first step away, when he heard the creature roaring again. He quickly replaced himself on the rock, and this time slowly turned.

It was worse than he feared; the bear hadn't left but had in fact turned in Ori's general direction. Ori was fearful that in his rush to escape, the creature had spotted him, and was now coming toward him. But that's when Ori paused, the bear had stopped moving and was now acting cautiously. And Ori understood why when he realized there was something else there in the clearing with the bear.

He could see Link, stepping out of the foliage and slowly approaching the bear. The creature stood its ground and stamped its feet. It seemed agitated when confronted by this strange intruder. Link merely raised his left hand and slowly and cautiously began to approach the bear, making no suddenly or startling moves. Ori thought Link was absolutely mad walking up to a creature that size.

The bear roared at Link and looked as if he was preparing to charge. Ori stood for a horrified moment, believing that he was about to see Link get mauled to death by the creature. But Link made no motion to flee. Instead, a strange thing happened; his left hand began to glow a golden yellow light. Ori could barely make out an odd triangle-symbol on the back of Link's hand that was giving off the glow. And surprisingly, the Bear began to calm at this gesture. It took a step back away from Link and casually lifted its head, in a rather relaxed manner. Ori suspected that something about the light was warm and had a calming effect on the Bear.

The animal gave a soft grunt and then reached out its snout and began sniffing Link. It had allowed Link to come so close that it was able to sniff his outstretched hand. It was incredible how calm the bear had become. But what was even more astounding was the calm over Link; he hadn't once hesitated or retreated from the Bear's aggression. He showed absolutely no fear at all, and now stood rather relaxed and casual in the bear's presence.

The Bear lowered itself onto its haunches and looked like it was preparing to sit-down. Ori observed the situation unfold. It was incredible that Link had managed to calm such a large and fearsome animal. But what Link did next, astounded Ori beyond all belief.

When the bear had calmed, Link lowered his hands to his sides. Suddenly the shadow that sit beneath Link's feet in twilight, grew completely black and it spread up over Link's feet. Then it ran up his legs, turning them completely black as well; the blackness soon covered his entire form, and Link seemed to pay no mind to it. Ori's jaw dropped seeing this, uncomprehendingly. And the bear gave a cautious snort when it began.

Suddenly Link gave off this odd growling sounds, and he suddenly dropped onto his hands and knees before the bear. And then Ori saw what he could not believe; Link was gone, and in his place sat a dark and grey-colored wolf. The creature shook its head before looking up at the bear, who was now curiously sniffing the newly-transformed companion that stood before it. The two sniffed each other and before long, the Wolf gave off a low snorting sound. The bear returned with a rather soft bellow. Ori could almost swear the two were communicating with each other. All of this was so overwhelming for the young-dwarf; he and his family were very superstitious, and he was fearful of such things as Link had just done. While the two beasts were distracted with each other, Ori quickly slipped away.

Ori ran as fast as he could until he rejoined the group. He saw that Fili had rejoined them. Thorin walked up the path to meet him.

"How close is the pack?" he asked.

"Too close," Ori said panting. "A couple of leagues, no more. But that's not the worst of it."

"The Wargs picked up our scent?" Dwalin guessed.

"No, but they will do," Ori said as he situated himself in the center of the group. "We have another problem."

"They saw you?" Gandalf asked.

"No, they didn't see me," Ori said. "But please listen; I'm trying to tell you that there is something else out there, in the woods."

The dwarfs gave a cautious sigh, now wary of another problem they had to deal with. They looked off in the direction that Ori had come, cautious of what might've followed him back. But Gandalf, while cautious, kept his eyes on Ori.

"What form did it take?" he asked. Before Ori could question what he meant, Gandalf continued with, "-Like a bear?"

Ori was flummoxed for a second. "Y-yes, but bigger; much bigger. How did you know that?"

"You knew about this beast?" Bofur asked Gandalf.

"There's no time for that," Ori said. "We have to get out of here, now."

"I say we double-back," Bofur suggested.

"And be run-down by a pack of orcs?" Thorin asked.

Balin meanwhile was looking around. "Where's Link?"

The group suddenly noticed that Link hadn't come back yet. "Where's the burglar?"

"Somebody should go and get him," Kili said.

"No wait; listen," Ori said. "That's something else that I have to tell you. Link he's-he-he-he-"

"Spit it out, Ori!" Thorin ordered.

"He's in-league with the beast!" Ori finally said.

"What?" Dori asked.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Gandalf asked.

"I saw it; I saw it with my own eyes," Ori said. "He came out of the woods and walked right up to the bear. And then on my honor, I saw him go down on his knees and he changed; he transformed into a wolf!"

The group was confused by what Ori had said. Gandalf looked incredibly puzzled by this news and was now leaning on his staff, deep in thought.

"It's not natural; turning into a wolf like that," Dori said. "What is it that you've invited into our company, Mister Gandalf?"

Before Gandalf could snap back at him, Ori continued in near-panic.

"The scariest part is, after he changed, the two of them began making these sounds; like they were talking to each other," Ori said. "For all we know, Link could be giving us up to the bear as we speak, in exchange for safe-passage for himself."

"Calm down, Ori," Bofur said. "This is Link we're talking about here. He's one of us."

"He turned into a wolf and started talking to a bear," Ori said. "Stuff like that is just unnatural; it can't be trusted."

"Gee," they all heard Link's voice say. They all flinched turning back to the path where they saw Link leaning against a tree, watching them. "I didn't think you'd hold all of that against me."

"Link," Gandalf said with a smile as the Hylian entered the group. Some of the more superstitious Dwarfs backed their distance away from Link, but Thorin and most others were not alarmed by him.

"We have to move, now," Link said. "It won't be long before the Orcs find us."

"Where can we go? We won't get far on foot," Balin said.

Before Gandalf could pose his suggestion, Link cut him off. "There is a House. It's not far from here; we can take refuge there."

"How do you know about the house?" Gandalf said now furrowing his brow.

"The bear told me," Link said. "It's why I changed my form; so I could talk to him."

"...You reasoned with the bear?" Gandalf asked now raising an eyebrow.

"He patrols this entire area, and is no friend to the Orcs. He seemed interested by my ability to change into a wolf, and he offered us shelter. He told me that there's a house near the Carrock; it's fortified and large enough for us to seek refuge there; we should be safe, if we can make it."

"Whose house is it?" Thorin asked being quite bewildered by all of this. "They friend or foe?"

"The bear didn't say; he just told me to gather my companions and make for it," Link said. "But I say we trust it; the bear is a friend."

The group took a moment to look at each other, all visibly worried by this turn of events. Thorin looked to Gandalf. "What choice do we have?"

Before long, a collection of howls was heard off into the distance; the Wargs had picked up the scent and were now headed in their direction.

"None," Gandalf said plainly...

The group were running as fast as they could muster. The sun was beginning to set and the forested environment was becoming darker and harder to navigate. Gandalf was leading them on; it was clear to Link that Gandalf himself had known about the house and which direction to go. He wondered if he knew the owners.

The group could hear the falling beat of pawed feet and the shouting of Orcs' voices in the distance behind them; the hunting party was getting closer.

"Come on!" Gandalf shouted, hurrying the company of Dwarfs.

However, suddenly an ear-splitting roar shook the forest, startling both groups into stopping. The Orcs looked about trying to discern the source of the sound. The Dwarfs fearfully looked from one tree to the next, expecting to see the Bear appear at any moment and attack them.

"This way, quickly!" Gandalf shouted.

The Wizard ran off, but the group stayed behind when they heard the sound of branches breaking as something large moved through the forest. The Dwarfs ran off, with only Bombur staying behind, frozen with fear.

"Bombur, come on!" Bofur shouted, pulling his brother along.

Link looked back only a moment and wondered just what was going to happen first. With his sharp ears he could distinguish that both the Orc pack and the bear were headed right for them. He was hoping that this plan was going to work.

The company broke from the woods out into an open plain. And up ahead in the distance, Gandalf spotted a house that was surrounded by enormous trees and large hedges. And at the front of the hedge was a gate that served to fence-in the house from the surroundings; fortunately it was open for now.

"To the house! Run!" Gandalf said.

The group ran as fast as they could. Link was surprised to see that Bombur was so frightened, that he was out-pacing all of them, sprinting as fast as he could and easily passing by each of the Dwarfs until he was even ahead of Gandalf.

Gandalf stood by the entrance to the hedges and began funneling the Dwarfs through the opening.

"Go on, get inside!" he ordered. The roars in the distance were becoming fiercer.

Bombur, Fili and Bofur were the ones out front closest to the door. Bombur ran into it, expecting to push it open. However, upon impacting against the door, Bombur immediately bounced off of it and was thrown back. Fili, Kili and Bofur immediately began trying to push the door open, but it wouldn't budge.

One by one, the Dwarfs piled into the door's entrance, trying to get it open, but to no avail. Link and Gandalf stood by the entrance to the hedge and watched as Azog's Orc Pack suddenly burst from the foliage and charged toward them.

"Kill them all!" Azog ordered. The Wargs charged at them. Link and Gandalf retreated into the yard.

"Open the door!" Gandalf ordered.

"Quickly!" Thorin shouted as he pushed his way through the group. He laid his hand on the door and was about to try pushing it, only to notice an exterior bolt just above the door's handles. He casually lifted his hand and pressed against the bolt, lifting it off of the hinge, unlocking the door. Suddenly the door swung open and the Dwarfs tumbled in.

Link was quite annoyed that Thorin had been the only Dwarf with enough sense to notice that the door was locked. Needless to say, as all the Dwarfs, Link and the Wizard in tow, poured inside, they immediately began closing the door to try and hold the orcs off. Not that it would hold them for very long.

However, as the Orcs had crossed into the center of the plain, suddenly the Bear burst from the forest and charged at the hunting pack, roaring loudly. The Wargs immediately changed direction against their Masters' commands to avoid the bear running toward them. The Dwarfs watched in awe as they saw the bear chase the orcs away, like he was protecting the house. Link gave a relieved sigh. Gandalf gave a rather confident smirk.

Meanwhile, all of the Dwarfs were rendered speechless and fearful when they had actually seen the bear in its entirety. Gandalf looked rather amused by their fearful and breathless states. The Dwarfs soon worked to shut both of the doors.

"Come on, lads," Dwalin ordered reaching down. With the other's help, he heaved a huge beam from the floor and slid it into the hinges on the door, to lock it. The Dwarfs gave loud heaving gasps for breath as some bent over, putting their hands on their knees. It was quite a stressful trek to get over here.

"That is the most ferocious beast I have ever seen," Oin said, catching his breath.

"That beast is our host," Gandalf said rather nonchalantly. The entire group, even Link turned to look at him after that statement.

"The bear lives here?" he asked.

Gandalf smiled and began looking about the interior of the house, seeing that it was very much like the interior of a barn. There were large cows inside, feeding on the hay left lying about.

"His name is Beorn," Gandalf said looking about. "And he is a Skin-Changer; sometimes he's a huge black bear; sometimes he is a great strong man. The bear is unpredictable, but the man can be reasoned with."

"That's why you were confused when I started talking to him?" Link asked.

"And thoroughly impressed," Gandalf said. "It's not a feat to be regarded so lightly."

"Is that why he agreed to help us?" Link asked. "Because he thinks I'm a skin-changer as well?"

"It might be possible; your actions may have won us a keen ally," Gandalf said. "However, he is not overfond of Dwarfs."

The Dwarfs look at each other, slightly in dismay. Oin had tried to hear everything that Gandalf had said, only to be reminded that his thrumpet had been flattened by the Goblins. The Dwarfs slowly began exploring the house, seeing all of the stocks of pottery and farming equipment Beorn had. Ori meanwhile was looking out a nearby window and could see Beorn and the Orcs disappear over the horizon, being driven back to the woods.

"He's chasing the orcs away," he said.

"Come away from there!" Dori said pulling Ori from the window. "It's not natural, none of it."

"You said the same thing about me, earlier this evening," Link said rather matter-of-factly.

"Well...your character speaks for itself," Dori said. "But we know nothing about this fellow; how could it be that any reasonable man could change into such a monstrous animal? What's it say about him? It's obvious; he's under some dark spell."

"Don't be a fool," Gandalf grumbled. "He's under no enchantment but his own."

Gandalf then moved through the house, away from the two cows. He took off his hat and set both it and his staff aside. He could see out the window that the sun had gone down and the Orcs were nowhere to be seen.

"Alright, now get some sleep; all of you," Gandalf ordered. "You'll be safe here tonight."

The Dwarfs continued to mill about the area, looking for places to get comfortable. Meanwhile, Gandalf looked out the window again, cautiously in the direction that Beorn had chased off the pack of Orcs.

"I hope..."

Link and the Dwarfs had gotten settled in Beorn's house. They managed to light some candles while they got themselves situated. It would seem that they had no choice but to improvise beds of hay straw to sleep on. The Dwarfs had expressed a desire to help themselves to whatever food Beorn might have about the house. But Gandalf and Link agreed it would be incredibly impolite, and the Dwarfs didn't want to get on the bad side of a volatile Bear.

Link finally set his satchel aside and set himself up on a pile of straw. He looked back and watched as the other Dwarfs got situated. They all looked exhausted; it seems the night's rest with the Eagles hadn't recovered them as much as Link had hoped. But at least they were safe for now and had warm lodgings for the night.

Link managed to keep himself busy while the Dwarfs prepared to bed down, by trying assist Oin in fixing his thrumpet. Link was currently using the cylindrical shape of one of his milk-bottles, to try and restore its rounded-shape. While Link worked, he noticed that Bifur and Nori were together, working on something. He wondered what they were up to, but he didn't focus on it too much.

"There you go, Oin," Link said. "This is the best I can do for now."

He managed to improvise the flattened metal into a roughly cone-shape. He handed it back to the Dwarf who accepted it graciously.

"Thank ye, lad," Oin said. He lifted it up to his ear. "This should suffice well enough."

Without notice, Bifur approached the two of them and began speaking to Link in Dwarfish.

"Bor-dum; Gun-deli bomf! Ku deragedar," Bifur said to him, slapping his chest. Link was confused; he didn't understand what the Dwarf was saying, so he could only smile awkwardly. But he did notice that Bifur was holding something. It looked like a large white fang, and a bit of string looped through a hole near the roots. Link had the suspicion that Bifur was offering it to him.

"What's he saying?" Link asked Oin.

Oin adjusted his thrumpet and listened. "He's saying that he saw you fighting with Azog back there; he was truly impressed by your skills. You have the heart of a brave warrior."

Bofur then came up behind his cousin and continued to translate.

"He says that this is the fang that you knocked from the Warg's mouth with your hammer," he said. "Nori managed to scrounge it before we got picked up. Bifur wanted to return it to you, as a token of your bravery."

Bifur continued speaking again and began gesturing Link to sit up. Link did as he motioned and sat up on his knees, effectively coming face-to-face with the Dwarf. Bifur continued speaking dramatically as he placed the necklace around Link's neck.

"Kel durekbah, Warung Bedar!"

"He says, with this Trophy, I dub the, 'Link; Wolf-Breaker'," Bofur translated. "He also says, he looks forward to the day where he can fight in battle alongside you."

Link looked down at the Warg's-tooth necklace Bifur bestowed him with. It hung rather comfortably around his neck, and it was certainly an impressive fang as well. Link smiled seeing it. And he didn't mind the Wolf-Breaker title either. He looked back up at Bifur.

"Thank you," he said. He wasn't sure if the Dwarf understood. He stoically raised his forearm and slapped it.

Bifur nodded and returned the gesture. An unspoken comradery was built between them.

It was several hours later. The Company of Thorin were all resting peacefully and the candle lights in the house had been blown out. The house seemed so exposed in the center of the clearing, away from the forest. The hedge and the trees that flanked it were an easily overcome obstacle.

However, Beorn still in the form of a large black bear, stalked the area around the house, keeping his head low and growling menacingly. He was patrolling the area, making tight circles around his territory, as he glared off into the forest. He kept his eyes on the direction he'd chased the Orcs off to. With his keen, wild senses, he knew they were still close by, watching him, but unwilling to attack him.

Azog watched as Beorn continued to patrol the area. It wasn't long before he noticed the deliberateness of the bear's patrol; this animal was not merely hanging about aimlessly. Something from the past came to Azog's mind; an old enemy...

"Attack them now," his lieutenant said approaching him. "Kill the Dwarf filth while they sleep."

Azog thought decisively at the whole situation, glaring at the bear.

"No," he said turning away returning to the rest of the pack. "The beast stands guard."

The wargs were becoming restless and began snapping at one another, as their riders tried – mostly in vain – to keep them in line.

"We will kill them on the road," Azog ordered. He looked about and surveyed the remaining company he'd had. Thanks to that skirmish with the Stranger and the Eagles, they were down to just five riders; being outnumbered, the Dwarfs stood a chance of overcoming them.

Suddenly the Orcs heard the snapping of branches off in the distance as something approached them at top speed. It wasn't long before a company of Orcs riding Wargs emerged from the foliage. The leader of this new pack approached Azog, his warg snarling right in the Pale Orc's face.

Sitting atop this Warg was an Orc of pale complexion similar to Azog's. He wore bladed armor that almost seemed to cut through the skin of his torso. He had severed bear-claws adorned over his shoulder-pads. He looked blind in one-eye, and the scars across his face and forehead were sealed together with strips of metal and fastened bolts. He wielded a large mace, similar to Azog's. It was Azog's own son; Bolg of the North, a foul-spawn of Gundabad Orc and mutant Goblin.

Azog grinned seeing the company in Bolg's tow; there were so many of them, that the Dwarfs would easily be overwhelmed.

"You have come to reinforce us?" Azog said with a grin.

"They are gathering in Dol Guldur," Bolg said plainly. "The Master has summoned you!"

Hearing that, Azog's grin faded into an enraged scowl.

"I will not abandon the hunt," he hissed. "Not when I am so close to attaining my vengeance. What could be so important that he should tear me away from my victory?"

"He orders that you lead his armies into the coming battle," Bolg told him. "War is coming."

"And what of Oakenshield?!" Azog snapped back at him. "He promised me the Dwarf King's head! I will not give-up my prize, just to satisfy his desires!"

"And you are to tell him that?" Bolg said. "You know the power he possesses. He should be quite displeased should you refuse an official summons."

Azog growled again and sneered. He took a deep breath and scowled again. He moved off going back toward his white warg and prepared to ride-off for Dol Guldur.

"Do we call off the hunt?" his lieutenant – Narzug – asked approaching.

Azog hesitated before mounting. He turned back toward his pack.

"Bolg!" he called.

At Azog's order, Bolg dismounted his Warg and approached him. Dismounted, Bolg showed that he was a terrifying and impressive Orc, easily head and shoulders over the other Orcs in the hunting party. As he approached, he showed to be eye-level with Azog. The two sneered and hissed at each other.

"I entrust this task to you," Azog said. "Do you still thirst for Dwarf Blood?"

Bolg managed a sinister grin and hissed in a somewhat delighted fashion at the prospect.

"Do what you will with the others," Azog ordered. "But I want you to bring me Oakenshield's head."

"It will be done, my lord," Bolg hissed nodding his head.

"There is one more thing," Azog said. He then turned and shouted something at Narzug. The Orc moved back toward his Warg, where he began rummaging through his pack. Azog turned back to Bolg. "The Dwarfs have a stranger amongst them. Do not underestimate him; he protects the Dwarfs, and is a threat to our plans...I want you to end him!"

Narzug brought the item to Azog, still wrapped up in brown parchment. Azog held its long form.

"A gift from our friend of Angmar," Azog said. He pulled the wrappings away, revealing it to be a single arrow. "Kill the Stranger; let it pierce his heart. Do not hesitate and do not miss."

Bolg took the arrow and carefully moved it into his quiver.

It wasn't long before Azog was riding off into the distance, headed south for Dol Guldur. Bolg was now in command of the hunting party. He and the company of Orcs had remounted. Bolg was surveying the area, when he caught sight of the Bear. He sneered at it, sensing a familiarity from this creature.

"What are you orders, sir?" Narzug, now at Bolg's command asked.

"The Beast will help the Dwarfs...he will guard them to the edge of the wood," Bolg said. "But it matters not...The Dwarfs are walking into a trap."

Bolg reared up on his Warg to address the entire company of orcs, raising his mace.

"We ride North! We will head them off at the end of the forest! Move out!" with that, Bolg kicked his warg, and the beast took off. The entire hunting party of Orcs followed him, moving like a stampede northward, away from Beorn's house. Their many paws striking the ground, gave a rhythmic thumping.

Beorn had grown nervous when more Orcs had arrived to reinforce the pack. But so far, they had not yet attacked. And strangely enough, their leader, the Defiler, rode off to the south, while the rest of the pack rode north. They were splitting up. He imagined that this would be bad.

But it wasn't long before the hunting party had disappeared off into the distance. They had left his territory. He didn't know what the Orcs were planning, but so long as they didn't try to attack his home again, he supposed it couldn't be helped. It was late and he was tired.

He ambled back toward his house, rearing up on his hind legs, and suddenly his form began to change. His incredible mass melted, until the form of a tall and strong man collapsed to his knees at the edge of the wood. He slowly stood up and observed his house in the distance.

The Dwarfs were completely unawares at the commotion going on outside. They were all sleeping soundly; at least, as much as they could over the sounds of the squeaking mice, the occasional bleating of the goats, and of course, the snoring from all the other Dwarfs.

Link's eyes slowly slid open and he looked about the room from his lying position. He had grown accustomed to the Dwarf's snoring during his time with them, so they weren't disturbing him. No, he was kept awake by something else; something that had been nagging at the back of his mind, ever since they escaped the Goblin Tunnels. But he was a cautious-fellow, and wanted to make absolutely sure that all of the Dwarfs had fallen asleep before he could check.

He slowly sat up and observed the room. Pale moonlight shined through the windows. The entire area was peaceful. He could see that each of the Dwarfs were asleep; they were after all exhausted from their day of running from the Wargs. With Beorn guarding the house outside as a powerful black bear, no one stayed up to be the night watchman. Link was certain even the Wizard was asleep now.

Link slowly turned onto his side, and suspiciously curled into himself, in an almost protective and secretive fashion. He ran his hand over his coat...and he felt it. He ran his hands over the row of shiny, brass buttons on his coat and felt the wider gap and loose threads between two of the buttons across his chest; one of the buttons was missing.

Link's thoughts returned to just a few days before, when he'd been in the Goblin Tunnels. The group had finally made it to the crack in the mountain that served as their way out. But during all of the commotion, none of the Dwarfs ever learned of the existence of Gollum; and Link was quite grateful that they could not have heard the foul creature's miserable cries echoing across the tunnels, as they made their escape. But he could hear them; surely with his sharp ears, he could undoubtedly hear the wretched thing.

"Thief! Thief, Hylenses! Curse it and crush it; we hates it forever!"

A strange sour emptiness came over Link as he pondered those last words the Gollum said and would ever say to him. They were not, after-all, unwarranted in some way or another. What Link curiously pondered over was what exactly had come over him back during their final encounter. The creature was ultimately so pathetic and pitiable that Link did not have the heart to kill it. And with his skills and strength, he could easily subdue the creature in its attempts to kill him. Why had he been so rough with the creature during their last moments? And then Link thought back to that very moment.

"You want your precious so badly?" he said. He dropped Gollum, the miserable wretch cloying and gasped for breath as he fell to the ground. But during his fall, he did not notice that when Link turned, his body blocked Gollum's view of his hand. The creature did not notice that while Link turned, his hand plucked the button from his coat and he threw it into the darkness. The button was mere brass, but it had been painted with a gold finish, and was polished enough to where it would shine in the darkness as it flew, and heavy enough to clang on the ground when it landed. And with that, the Gollum disappeared, chasing a lie...

Link took a deep breath as he continued to retreat on himself. He reached into his coat, pulling Gollum's ring from his pocket. He held the tiny gold band between his thumb and forefinger. He glared at the ring, suspiciously. Link had honestly no idea why he decided to keep the ring. It was strange; slipping the Ring into his pocket the first time, might've seemed like a reflex, or even an accident when he didn't realize it. But the fact that he'd gone out of his way to trick Gollum into chasing the Ring into the darkness, troubled him.

Why did he want to keep this thing? He had been telling himself that there was some trickery afoot, and Gollum might've become more dangerous with this ring; would it have given him the power to kill him? If that were so, then perhaps it was better out of Gollum's hands. But then, what power did this ring hold? Link was also puzzled about how the Ring had mysteriously changed its shape to where it could now easily fit his finger, should he choose. If Gollum planned to use this ring against him in a fight, then it must have some kind of useful power. Link half-considered slipping the ring on to test what it could do.

But he didn't do it. Link was quietly pondering what significance this ring could have; but he couldn't quite name what it is. After all, it seemed like such a tiny thing; how important could it be? But his thoughts kept returning to Elrond; the conversation that they had. If it were true that what Elrond told him, then it meant that Sauron could possibly have dominion over all magic rings that existed in this world; possibly even lesser rings, not made by him. So it might be dangerous to try and test this ring.

But then again, Sauron was destroyed. If the Lord of the Rings was dead, then his dominion over all Rings in Middle Earth vanquished with him. Perhaps it was safe to use this ring. After all, the Gollum was preparing to use it to gain an edge on Link, down in the dark tunnels; he seemed to not suffer any ill-magical effects. But then again, he seemed quite obsessed with it. But why shouldn't he be? Link himself could hardly draw his eyes away from it. And that gave Link pause.

He rested the Ring in the center of his palm as he examined it. The Ring seemed hardly remarkable; it probably wasn't even made from a pound of gold judging by its size and weight. And yet, the more Link stared at it, the more he was convinced that it was the most beautiful think he'd ever seen. Every fiber of his being wanted to stare at it, to treasure it, to keep it, to wear it. Link was moving his fingers towards it, preparing to put the ring on. Suddenly he could hear his own blood pumping through his ears again, and the ring whispered again.

Link immediately shut his fist around the ring, and it was almost immediately silenced. A wave of relief came over Link. He sighed deeply, feeling the strange power the Ring had over him fade away. He stared at his enclosed fist, intently and suspicious.

Just what was this thing?

He couldn't understand the words it was trying to whisper...but then Link paused again. This time, a faint recognition came over Link. The night they had been cornered by Azog and his hunting party, he had heard the Orcs shouting in a foreign language; something that Gandalf called Black Speech. The tone and diction used by the Orcs was similar to the hissing and whispering that came from the ring...

Link was becoming very worried now. This ring was doing strange things to him, and he could sense that it was part of the reason why he could not think straight. His mind was cloudy and wandering; and each trail of thought he followed, always led him back to the ring. But he tried passionately to break through his fogged mind, and find the answer.

He now thought about something he'd overheard Sarumon say. The One...the one that was lost; it had been swept out to sea. Surely it could not have been recovered. And besides, Gollum's ring could hardly be the one; the Ring he saw in the mural, upon Sauron's hand was glowing, with fiery markings across its band. This ring was featureless and unremarkable. Still, he sensed that there was something wrong with this ring. Some kind of evil surely lay over it. He half-considered telling Gandalf about what he'd found; maybe he'd have some answer. But perhaps the Wizard was too preoccupied with trying to lead the company on their way...or worse, that Necromancer business in Dol Guldur...He was troubled enough as it is.

Thinking of no other option, Link simply slipped the ring back into his coat pocket. Maybe he was just being paranoid, or overtired after all this time. Besides, much like the Elf-Blade, the Ring might make pretty souvenir; a trinket to remind him of this adventure...it was proving to be far more than he'd originally expected...

It wasn't long before Link rolled over onto his bed of hay, closed his eyes, and slept...

Author's Note; Yes, I am Back...And I am sorry to keep you all waiting. I did intend for the story to continue promptly ever since last September; but many complications got in the way, from having to restore the missing chapters, getting a new laptop, my sister's wedding, pressures from the semester. And every time I was certain to have time to return to working on it, I had never gotten around to it. But in light of the summer months providing me with ample peace and time to work, I have been renewed in my quest to adapt the rest of the story.

I can't promise a conclusion any-time soon, but for the next few months, more chapters will be submitted. I hope those of you who have enjoyed are still tuning in for updates. Again, sorry to keep you all waiting, and enjoy...