The way to the old watchtower proved to be much longer than it had seemed from the distance, and literally a good deal more rocky.

Part of the problem was, that there was no such thing as a path to the top( or if there was, Ella had'nt found it ), instead the whole mountain was a big labyrinth of caves and tunnels.

The dwarves who had once built the tower had left visible signs of civilization all over the area, but most of the walls and bridges were now broken, many underground passageways turned out to be dead ends and staircases led into nowhere.

Well, but I don't have to climb all the way up, right? Ella tried to console herself as she took a short break on a flat rock next to another cave entrance that might ( or might not ) get her closer to her destination.

I just have to find Thorin and the others and warn them that they are about to run into a trap. We don't want to confront Azog now. We'll come back for him later, with reinforcements.

And hopefully of the kind Gandalf had promised to provide, since Thranduil had made perfectly clear that he had no intentions to lose any more of his men in a war that wasn't his-

Sighing, Ella stoppered the water skin and put it back into Tauriel's bag. It was almost empty, and the same applied for her supply of Lembas bread.

No matter. She had to keep up her strength, and it wasn't that she planned to spend the winter up here.

She just had to find Thorin and the others.

But she hadn't yet. And every minute that passed brought the Gundabad orcs nearer.

In fact, Ella had not met anyone so far, but she wasn't alone up here, that much was certain.

Her Elven sword kept glowing in a warning blue tone the entire time, and even if she didn't see any orcs, she could definitely smell them- that particular rotting smell of them lingering in every cave and every tunnel should be enough to attract a million carrion birds.

But then, the crows found probably much richer spoils down in the valley, where the battle of five armies still raged on.

Ella got on her feet and staggered towards the cave's entrance like a drunk.

And that was the other problem.

Wearing the magic ring always meant walking through a kind of blurred, black and white fog- not exactly ideal conditions for a hike in unknown territory.

And it didn't only distort her vision, it affected her hearing also.

When she had slipped it on her finger in Dale, the battle noises around her had suddenly sounded like coming from far away, whereas now, the howling of the wind through the crevices and the trickle of melting ice from the rocks appeared overly loud.

Now and then, she heard voices whisper in a foreign tongue although no one was there, which increased the overall dream-like and dizzying feeling brought on by her fatigue and exhaustion.

And while all this were by now familiar effects, it still wasn't something one could really get used to- or endure forever without losing one's mind.

Sooner or later, Ella would have to take the ring off and show herself- preferably when she was surrounded by her companions instead of an orc pack.

As she approached the cave's exit (luckily this one had an exit ) the sword at her side flared up in excitement, and a moment later she could make out unmistakable combat sounds.

Carefully venturing closer towards their source, she recognized Tauriel and Legolas who were fighting a fierce battle against half a dozen orcs.

Automatically, the hobbit drew her sword to rush to their aid, but then she stopped and thought better of it.

For one thing, the two Elves looked perfectly capable of handling their opponents on their own. Unlike herself they were fresh and rested, and what was more, well trained warriors.

That they were here confirmed that Ella was on the right track and if she came forward now, there was a good chance they would send her away again. After all, Tauriel had asked her to protect the women and children of Dale in their hiding place.

But of course this had been a ruse so that she would get herself into safety instead of following them- if the orcs found the cave, there was precious little a single hobbit could have done to stop them.

No.Those people didn't need her help. But the dwarves did.

Ella had made her decision and by no means would she turn back now.

She sheathed her sword again and sneaked past the combatants- but not without tripping up one of the orcs on her way.

Unable to maintain his balance because he had just been in the middle of an attack movement, the orc stumbled over the cliff's edge with a surprised cry and vanished into the depths.

Legolas turned his head and acknowledged the "accident" with an amused raising of his brow. He shouted something in Sindarin and Tauriel answered with a derisive snort.

Another orc jumped at her from a rock cliff above and she drew her bow and shot him mid-air. He was dead before he reached the ground. With sparkling eyes and a grim smile, the auburn-haired she-elf leaned down and pulled her arrow out of his throat.

Clearly, those two were in full control of the situation. The more orcs they could keep at bay until Ella found her friends, the better.

She turned around and moved on, further up the hill.

After an hour or so of increasingly strenous climbing, with only a few scattered orc guards in her way she could easily evade, Ella reached a plateau surrounded by partially broken stone railings.

The weather had taken a turn for the worse; the sun was hiding behind dark clouds and a light snowfall began to set in.

Panting, Ella sank down with her back against the stone and took out her remaining provisions.

She had still found no sign of her companions and slowly, her confidence began to wane and give way to gnawing doubts.

Because she had, in effect, no way of knowing if Thorin and the others had made it here at all.

The last she had seen of them was on that chariot rushing across the battlefield, but it was quite possible that they had been stopped before they could reach their destination.

And even if they had made it , they had approached the mountain from the other side.

Perhaps there was a path to its top there, and if so, it was certainly better guarded than the back of it, which meant they would have to fight their way through.

Which also meant that it was quite unlikely to catch them on their way when she came from the other direction-not that she had any idea where exactly on the mountain she currently was, with all the wandering through winding caves and tunnels.

Not to speak of the permanent fuzzy twilight around her that was the effect of wearing the ring.

It only grew stronger the longer she wore it, gave her a dull headache and made her thoughts dark and bleak. Even the foreign voices in her head now seemed to whisper of defeat.

She had to take it off, if only for a short while. Just a moment so she could take a proper look around, and maybe get an idea of where she was and which way she should take.

Ella slipped the ring off her finger and instantly, her mind cleared and she could again breathe more easily.

The feeling of relief, however, was short lived.

Because the fresh winter air she breathed in carried the unmistakable acrid smell of an orc's most loyal companion.

Wargs. There were wargs out here.

At the very moment the realization hit her, Ella heard a low, threatening growl and when she looked up, she saw it standing right above her on a snow-clad ledge.

It was a single animal, and although maybe not the biggest specimen of its breed it was still a lot bigger than herself and looked perfectly able- and perfectly ready- to tear her to pieces.

Its fearsome fangs were bared and the muscles in its short but strong legs twitched, ready to jump.

And just like misfortunes, wargs seldom came alone.

Where there was one, the pack would not be far away. She'd better get away as soon as possible.

Slowly, with baited breath, Ella took the ring out of her pocket to slip it back on her finger, but then she paused, squinting.

Something about the beast puzzled her.

It was the fur, which, even flecked with mud as it was, had an unusual warm, light-brown tone, almost golden.

And the eyes that sat in the ugly face were of a deep, iridiscent blue.

It had been for this colour that she had originally planned to name her pet after Thorin- before she had found out that it was a girl.

But that could not be.

Precious was dead.

She had died on the river, when the company had fled the Woodland realms, chased by orcs.

And she had been small then, so very small Ella could carry her around in her shawl.

The animal on the rock above her, by contrast, was clearly an adult- or almost. It was weeks ago that she had lost her pet but still- It could not be.

But then, why had the beast still not attacked?

Surely a hobbit posed no threat for an animal this size, and still it kept sitting there, crouched down to jump, but it did not jump but instead watched her as warily as she watched it, from those strange, oddly familiar blues.

Very slowly ( for quick movements were unwise when confronted with predators ) Ella rose and ventured a step closer, then another, with raised hands.

The warg flattened its ears and growled again, but it sounded uncertain rather than threatening now.

Ella swallowed and took another step towards the ledge. "Precious," she croaked. "It's me. Don't- don't you know me?"

At the sound of her voice, the beast cocked its head and sniffed. Its eyes grew wide and its mouth fell shut and hid its fangs, except for a single bucktooth in its lower jaw. It no longer looked dangerous but downright dumb, and now Ella was sure.

Tears welled up in her eyes.

"Precious," she repeated incredulously. "It really is you. You live." She shook her head. "How on earth have you become so big?"

"Meat."

The warg gave a fearful yelp when a large figure clad in full armor appeared behind it like a dark shadow.

A malicious grin graced the orc's destroyed features ( he had lots of sharp teeth but practically no lips ) and an icy shiver ran down Ella's spine when she realized she had seen him, too, before. He was the leader of the orc pack that had hunted them on their way to Lake-town.

"Have you really thought feeding a warg with milk and bathing it would turn it into a puppy dog?" he sneered.

His voice, clearly not used to speak Westron, was thick with accent and sounded like something long buried. "Good thing we found her."

He reached out as if to pet the animal's neck and the warg flinched in ( doubtlessly rightful ) fear of a beating.

"Meat," the frightening figure repeated with a thoughtful nod. "Fresh and raw. That's what makes them big, what keeps them strong, just like us."

He looked down at Ella who still stood frozen in place with terror. "My father will be very pleased when I bring him Oakenshield's little plaything, oh yes. Don't bother to come up. I'll come down to you."

Finally, Ella awoke from her shock-induced paralysis. "Oh no." she murmured. She had a pretty good idea who his father was, and absolutely no desire to meet him again.

Her hand reached for the ring in her pocket, but before she could slip it on her finger, a powerful blow from behind struck her temple and her world went black.