A/N: I'm in a LOTR/Hobbit mood, so I updated my LOTR story yesterday... or was it the day before? Anyway, I updated it, and decided I would update this one too! and omg you are in for a surprise. I won't apologise. It was always meant to happen.

Enjoy~

She wasn't sure exactly when the ginger elf came to her side, but she couldn't really complain when the female elf appeared in her room – or rather Legolas' room, Merlin only knows where the blonde elf had been sleeping but aside from mornings and the occasional visit she hadn't seen much of him in the past few days. The elleth seemed highly unsure of herself, of what she wanted to do, but there was a determination in her eyes. A need to do what was right that had Amethyst liking the red head.

"I will help you escape, if you help me with the orcs that went after the dwarves," she said finally after moments of staring at Amethyst and pacing. So it was the dwarves that held her interest, or rather, one dark haired dwarf that belonged to the line of Durin. Amethyst smiled.

"To do that means to disobey your king, are you prepared for that?" she responded, knowing it had to be said aloud for it to truly sink in. She didn't need the elleth's help to escape, but it was an intriguing prospect.

"Yes, if it means doing what is right then I am prepared to do it," Ginger nodded her head, holding out Amethyst's weapons to her.

"Then consider me your partner in crime," Amethyst grinned, "I'm Amethyst."

"I do not understand your words completely, but I think that means yes?" she asked causing the witch to nod. "I am Tauriel."

They made it through the guards with an ease that confused Amethyst, it was explained later that Tauriel was a Captain of the Guard and a close friend to the prince. It pays to know people, for they were only questioned once, to which Tauriel told them to go question the king in relation to his, non-existent, order to free Amethyst. No one wanted to get on the bad side of the volatile king and they were free to pass.

"You are the one mentioned in the prophecy are you not?" Tauriel asked as they tracked the orcs.

"Rather reluctantly," she nodded, "it's no small feat living up to expectations all the time. I've found that prophecies are rather fickle. What of you? How did Tauriel become a Captain of the Guard?"

"My ada and naneth were slain by orcs when I was an elfling, the king took pity on me and promised me a place in the guard when I came of age."

"It's not a very nice thing to grow up without parents."

"Your parents died too?"

"They were murdered because the Dark Lord in my world believed in the first prophecy I was bound by," she shrugged, "I've long since gotten over that. Though I daresay your childhood was better than mine. I spent it being hated and abused by my aunt and uncle."

"They hit you?" she asked aghast and Amethyst knew it was because elflings were very precious and rare.

"No, they knew better than to strike me," she smirked at the memory of that, her magic had reacted very violently when her uncle had tried, "but they starved me and locked me the broom cupboard. I thought my name was freak until I reached the age where I went to school."

"That is terrible… to think…" Tauriel shook her head, disgust plain to see in her eyes, "humans are deplorable."

"No, they aren't. Do not judge an entire race based on the actions of a few. You will grow very hateful if you do Tauriel."

"For one so young, you are very wise."

They both wrinkled their noses in disgust as they came to the lake, carcasses and blood littered the shore line, a clear sign of their enemy if ever there was one. Tauriel stood looking worried over the lake, Amethyst wondered what it was that worried her so and if the cause of it was the reason why she was so adamant to betray her king. She paused slightly, her magic calling for her attention tugging at her almost violently, she let it go, an image of Gandalf being pressed against a wall coming to her mind. Her patronus formed in front of her, gave her a bow and sped off. She smiled at the unruliness of her magic, always wanting to help those she grew close to.

Her magic also told her of a presence behind them, moving quietly closer, but it did not sense a threat from the person.

"Blondie!" she cried suddenly, feeling his familiar aura brush against her magic. Tauriel jerked in surprise at her outburst but Amethyst merely span on her heel. "How nice of you to join us."

"My Lord Legolas," Tauriel said, though she was not surprised to see him. He shot her a confused look that bordered on hurt, and Amethyst knew then that Legolas had feelings for Tauriel. A strange feeling rose within her, something that bordered on jealousy, but what had she to be jealous of? It was ridiculous to think that she was envious of the feeling Legolas had for Tauriel, but it was there, lingering beneath the surface. It was unsettling.

"You have defied my father Tauriel," Legolas began, his tone soft and wounded, "you set our… prisoner… free and now chase after the dwarves. He took you in and cared for you. He is hurt by this betrayal, but if you come with me now all will be forgiven."

"But I will not forgive myself," Tauriel responded, "we have never let evil cross our borders. Yet your father would let this orc pack cross our lands and be content to close our doors and let them hunt our prisoners. No, Legolas, I will not return with you."

"It is not our business Tauriel, the dwarves and the orcs are nothing to do with us."

"Open your eyes blondie!" Amethyst found herself crying out, "there is a bigger picture here. Azog wants those dwarves dead, he wants the line of Durin ended, but something else is also fuelling him. They do not want Thorin to reach that mountain…" she stopped suddenly confused. "But why? What would Azog want with Erebor?"

"Gold?" Tauriel asked but Amethyst shook her head.

"I doubt he'd risk the dragon just for gold, it has to be something more than that," frustrated she began to pace.

"What does it matter?" Legolas asked, "what do the Defiler's reasons have to do with things?"

"Everything," her frustration only seemed to get higher, "what does an orc of Moria want with a mountain so far east? C'mon think, Amethyst, be logical, what do you know of Azog…" she paced faster up and down, her finger tapping her forehead as though it would help in the thinking process. "He's a chief, commanding the orcs of Moria… So he's an orc who is high up on the political chain… but again why involve himself so far east? Erebor… it's position…" she faced Tauriel and Legolas who were now watching her with a fascination.

"Since when do trolls come down from the mountain?" Thorin asked Gandalf, eyeing the stone statues with disgust.

"…not since a darker power ruled these lands." Came his quite reply.

"Darker power…" she whispered, her head tilting to the side.

"These are Gundabad Wargs, you'll never out run them." Gandalf huffed, looking at Radagast worriedly.

"The dagger he found at Dol Guldor… the sickness of the forest… the magic I felt… Erebor lays south east of Mount Gundabad yes?"

"Yes," Tauriel nodded.

"And Mordor to the south of Erebor."

"What are you thinking?" Tauriel asked finally.

"Erebor is a key location between Mordor and Angmar, take the mountain and evil once more gains a foothold into Angmar," she hoped she was just overthinking things, "after the Battle of Fornost the Witch-King fled to Mordor. The Witch-King, Azog and the sickness that lays over Mirkwood all have something in common."

"Dark magic," Legolas whispered with a growing realisation.

"And who commands such dark magic?" they didn't need to answer her question, for they all knew who it was.

"He was defeated, ages ago. He was destroyed," Legolas all but shouted.

"And so was the Dark Lord of my world," she responded hollowly, "when I was a baby he came into my home and tried to kill me. I was protected by the sacrifice my mother made. But the curse he used rebounded and hit him, the killing curse, it killed his body but his spirit endured. He was kept alive through a very powerful dark magic. He bound his soul to an object and thus endured."

"You think Sauron did the same?" Tauriel asked.

"Yes," she whispered, a flash of a golden Ring appeared in her mind's eye and the muttering of Black Speech.

"How do you know this is the truth?" Legolas asked, "isn't this just guesswork? How will we know?"

"I don't know," she whispered feeling frustrated at her lack of answers. "But the dwarves cannot enter that mountain. Smaug cannot give his allegiance to Sauron, if he does then Sauron gains a very powerful piece to play with."

"Then we must get to the mountain before the dwarves and deal with Smaug," Legolas declared and Tauriel agreed though with more reluctance.

"I must deal with Smaug," she faced them, a weary look in her eyes. "I must do it alone."

"You cannot," Legolas argued.

"I must," she told him, smiling softly, he reminded her of Hermione when she'd wanted to go with her to face Voldemort. A part of her wanted him with her, but she knew he could not come. Legolas, though highly skilled, was no match for a dragon. She had magic. She couldn't concentrate on Smaug and keep Legolas safe. "You go to Laketown, help defeat the orcs. I will head towards the mountain."

"It is too dangerous," Legolas whispered. "You could die."

"I'm the girl-who-lived." She tilted her head to side and gave him a soft smile. "Don't worry, blondie, I will be back to annoy you with my outlandishness soon."

OoO

Gandalf moaned as he awoke, a pounding in his head and a soreness in every muscle, it took him a moment to gain his bearings. To remember what had happened. He gasped and jerked, the cage around him rattled with the movement. "Amethyst," he croaked, he remembered her magic saving him and dispersing Sauron's black energy. He remembered Thror and Sauron taking him.

"I was dead long before Sauron got to me."

The voice startled him and he looked down to see the old dwarf, his hair white and his eyes clear of the madness that had been there before. Gandalf was confused, he brought a weary hand up to rub his temples.

"I died at Moria, at the hands of Azog," he told Gandalf. "What I am now is a soul, sent from the beyond in order to give you a message, or rather to give her a message. I was meant to be sent to Rivendell, but something went wrong and I landed here in Dol Guldor at the mercy of Sauron and I forgot my purpose. I remember it now."

"Who sent you?" Gandalf asked.

"Mahal," Thror responded with a heavy heart, he ran a hand over his face. "Oh, that I was alive and able to change the past. I see now my errors, I see that what is to come is because of me. There is little I can do, Gandalf, save for this. I was sent with words of warning. You must tell her Gandalf, she is the only one that can save us all, the only one that can stop the forces of evil."

"Calm yourself and tell me what I need to know," Gandalf urged, worry filling him for there was no doubt in his mind that he spoke of Amethyst.

"Tell her this," Thror took a deep breath, looking more afraid than ever. "The chain is weakening and the door unlocking. The guard shall soon sleep and black shall be Sun and Moon. The blessed one shall emerge and the battle shall be fought. Master and pupil shall unite to command at their hand a terrible force. Hope shall dwindle but never die. At the final hour, when tears run dry, she shall emerge daughter of stars and magic."

Dread filled Gandalf, for he knew well the hidden words within Thror's speech and he knew the battles to come would be hard fought. More than ever, he regretted the decision to convince Thorin to take back the mountain. He hoped with every fibre of his being that Amethyst would be safe, for only she could save them all when the time came.

"You must tell her," Thror told him once again before fading out of view.

OoO

She sat on the ledge, her legs swinging back and forth as she hummed a tune under her breath, her magic had brought her to the ledge so she knew this must be the way into the mountain. But without the knowledge of where the door might be hidden she had to wait for Thorin to catch up. She was trying her best not to think of Smaug, though she ought to come up with a plan, the dragon frightened her to some extent. This wasn't the instinctual beasts from her world, Smaug was intelligent and sly and the forces of evil wanted his allegiance. She had to propose a counter offer that would be too tempting to resist.

She heard the dwarves before she saw them. A fond smile lighting her face as she recognised the muffled curses and the huffing and panting of the Company. Their heavy footfalls always amused her. She saw the haggled bunch before they saw her. In fact it wasn't the dwarves who noticed her at all, rather it was Bilbo.

"Amethyst," Bilbo breathed in shock, she turned to him with a soft smile.

"Hello, Bilbo," she said. "It's been a while. Did you miss me?"

He didn't say anything, merely threw his arms around her and hugged her as tight as he could. He began apologising profusely for leaving her behind. She reassured him and told him it didn't matter. Thorin nodded at her, before ordering the dwarves to look for the door, apparently they didn't know where it was either. Bilbo sat beside her and she told him her tale of meeting the King of Mirkwood, in return he told her how he set the dwarves free and escaped Mirkwood. Barrels! I would have loved to have seen the dwarves stuffed into barrels. Of their trip to Lake Town and Thorin's promise to the help the people once he retook the mountain. Fili, Kili, Bofur and Oin were left behind in Lake Town, mostly due to Kili's injury from a morgul shaft.

By the time they had finished catching up, the sun had set and Thorin was yelling angrily and thumping the wall. She tilted her head to watch him, a secretive smile playing on her face. "Why are you angry?" she asked softly.

"It had all been for naught," Thorin told her, slumping to the ground in defeat. "We have lost the light."

"Sunlight, yes. Moonlight, no." She responded, he gave her a confused look. "The runes on the map were revealed by the light of the moon. It makes sense that the door will be revealed by moonlight also."

He looked to her as though she was world. A startling awe and respect within his eyes, he stood and smiled before marching over to her and gripping her shoulders. "You never cease to amaze me, woman," he told her laughing.

She rolled her eyes and used a spell to disperse the clouds and allow the moonlight to shine directly where they were standing. She could have used a spell to recreate moonlight earlier in the day, but just because she could didn't mean she had to. Relying on magic for everything was just plain lazy. The silvery light caught on the key hole and the dwarves twittered excitedly. Thorin stepped up and, with trembling fingers, placed the key in the lock and twisted.

The dwarves lingered in the doorway, admiring the throne carving and translating the Kuzdul above it to Bilbo. Amethyst stepped away from them, walking down the hallway a little. Guilt ate at her at what she was about to do, but there was a bigger picture beyond reclaiming the mountain and she needed Smaug on her side. Sending Bilbo down there, aggravating the beast, and taunting him would not give her what she needed.

"Amethyst?" Bilbo's voice seemed to rise above the others, the dwarves turned their attention to her too.

She tried to smile at them but it came out as a grimace. Flinching, she looked away and took a deep breath, trying to pluck up her infamous Gryffindor courage.

"Amethyst?" This time it was Thorin's voice that questioned her. "What are you doing?"

"Bilbo shan't be going any further." She told them, squaring her shoulders and raising her chin. "I need to speak to the dragon, to see if I can reason with him and bring him to my side. Darkness is coming and I need to be prepared."

Thorin moved forwards, an ugly anger rising within him and a snarl twisting his face into a stranger. "Have you been on the dragon's side all this time?" he spat, sounding mad and furious. She didn't blame him. "Was helping us a ploy to get you in this mountain? You want the Arkenstone for yourself. Greedy wench. I should have known! No elf friend could ever be true and honest."

"I have no desire for the Arkenstone," she responded with a sigh. "I'm sorry for this," she thrust her hand out, sending the dwarves and a stunned hobbit outside, the door slamming shut behind them. "Perhaps one day you will understand." The words were whispered to the air.

Erebor was as creepy as Grimmauld Place, its hallways were long and filled with cobwebs, there was an eerie silence that stank of death and decay. Shadows stalked her, looming from the glowing tip of her wand. She thought it to be a desolate place until she stumbled upon the treasury, the entire cavern glimmered gold, it reflected upon the walls and bounced of all manner of gems, trinkets and objects. It was overwhelming to behold the wealth of Erebor. Certainly, it was something all manner of creatures would lust for, not just dragons.

Hesitantly she stepped upon the golden surface, coins crunching under her feet and slipping and sliding under the foreign pressure. She had no idea where to begin looking for a dragon in the mighty hoard. All she could do was walk and hope she would disturb the beast. She searched and searched, until her legs began to ache and her feet grew sore. She cursed Thorin's grandfather for ever amassing such a ridiculous amount of gold. It didn't show his power, it showed his greed and arrogance. Something she agreed with Thranduil on, perish the thought.

Above her gold began to slid, it wasn't her doing and a sudden fear managed to out maneuverer her courage. She trembled. A puff of air sent a plumage of gold coins flying into the air. The dragon was awake. She could see the shifting gold all around her, Smaug's size was terrible to behold. She saw his eye open, two lids, one vertical and one horizontal. The great orb of varying shakes of yellow, red and orange, took her in before closing and opening once more. Smaug rose his head, his body shifting as he stood and stretched his wings.

"It had been a long time since I beheld a female," he began, his voice low and mocking. "Have you come to steal from me, little thief?"

"I have no desire for this gold," she responded, trying to muster up her courage once more.

"I smell the truth of your words," he moved closer to her, his eye appearing right in front of her, twitching as he took in her form. He moved again, this time his tongue lolling out, tasting the air, tasting her. "You taste like power," he informed her with a rumble in his gut. "What do you desire, little thief?"

"World peace would be great," she mumbled. "I desire your friendship, oh great dragon, Smaug."

"Friendship," Smaug hissed, rearing back as if struck. "Don't make me laugh human. Friendship does not exist, least of all between a dragon and a human. No, you seek to deceive me, but I am the greatest deceiver of all."

He let out a loud, earth shaking roar, it was meant to intimidate but Amethyst had never really responded well to intimidation. Smaug, seeing this, shot forwards and snapped at her with his powerful jaws. She rolled to the side, coming up before his large right eye and, in less than a second, her own eyes flashed golden and she entered the dragon's mind.

She stood upon a large grassy field, watching the scene play out before her. A woman stood before a large river, she wore a large flowing gypsy skirt and a ruffled tunic, her hair was unbound, long chestnut waves flowed through the air as she span. A glorious laugh left her parted lips. She looked beautiful, angelic even, her carefree actions brought a smile to Amethyst's face.

"Mama!"

A boy ran past her, his dark curls bouncing a top his head, thick and soft looking, he was small and dressed in clothes stained in mud and grass. His arms opened wide as he got near his mother. The woman didn't miss a beat, mid-turn she scooped the boy up and continued twirling.

"My beautiful Smaug!" The woman cried joyfully, pausing to lay a kiss upon his cheek and hold him close to her bosom. "How I love you, my son."

The scene changed and she found herself in the same grassy field, but it was darker somehow and it had nothing to do with the hidden moon. There was something sinister in the air and it creeped ever closer to her.

"Monsters deserve to die," the voice was hissed out, a menacing echo on breeze. "Your spawn deserves to be put down."

"Please! Not my boy!" The plea was a stark difference from the laughter she had heard only moments before. Whirling around she saw a scene that broke her heart. Smaug's mother kneeled upon the ground, a platoon of heavily armed men around her, she was bloody, broken and had clearly been raped. "He's innocent."

"Tell us where he is, whore," one of the guards spat, back handing the woman across the face.

Across the river, she a figure in the trees, a small boy with golden eyes watching the torture of his mother. Amethyst was forced to bear witness to it as well. She watched as each soldier had there go of the woman, listened as her screams subsided and her eyes became dull. She refused to tell them where her son was, so they laughed, stuffed a stone into her mouth and sowed her lips shut with leather. Night turned into day which turned into night once more. They cut off her fingers and toes, yanked the hair from her head and raped her once more before the captain plunged his sword into her chest, pulled out her heart. A dragon's heart was a delicacy, she heard him declare, and watched as he cooked and ate it.

She tore from Smaug's mind with a sob, slipped on the coins and fell, she crawled away, fighting the urge to puke. The woman's screams echoed in her head, her bloody form and dead eyes lingered in her mind. Suddenly it wasn't Smaug's mother, it was her own, her own sweet mother who had refused to give up her baby to Voldemort.

"Oh, Merlin," she whispered, her body shaking and face pale. "You were just a boy," she sobbed, angered and full of disbelief at the cruelty of humans.

"A dragon first learns to conjure fire," Smaug told her, his voice faraway and remembering. "The village my mother and I lived in saw my fire and alerted the nearby city. The soldiers came after us. We made it to the clearing before they caught us. Mother sent me across the river and bound me to that tree with her magic. Magic I could not overcome. I watched as they humiliated her, beat her and raped her. I hated them and all humans. I should kill you."

"I would not blame you if you did," she told him, watching as he circled around her. "Humans… we can be deplorable at times. To be cursed for what you are, for what had no say in being. Your mother… she did not deserve that…' Even she hated her kind for what they had done to the poor woman.

Smaug gave a rumbling growl in agreement, his belly glowed amber and she knew the flames within were churning through his body.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to him, because someone should be sorry, should apologise for the tragedy he witnessed as a child. "I'm so sorry she suffered. I'm so sorry you lost her. To grow up with special abilities without a parent to guide you is hard. If I had the power to stop what happened to her, to protect you both, I would."

The amber died away, growing cold and returning to its dark colour once more. He drew close to her, breathing in the air. "You are not like other humans. You do not beg for your life but apologise for the loss of my mother's." He told her, a curiosity to his tone and a light in his eyes that made the rage simmer down. "You smell of dragon magic. What are you?"

"I'm not from this world," she told him. "I'm a witch, one who possesses a great deal of magic. I'm the heir of the most powerful wizard to have ever existed, his name was Merlin. He was a Dragon Lord. Dragons in my world cannot speak the common tongue, they are more primitive and rely solely on their instincts, Merlin could speak to them. They had to obey his words, but he never ruled them, nor did he abuse his power. He used it only when necessary, in return, the dragons came to his aide when he called. I have that same power."

She'd been fourteen when she first used it. She'd fallen off her broom and landed heavily at the bottom of the chasm at Hogwarts, the Hungarian Horntail had landed nearby and was intent on making her its next meal. She'd used it unconsciously and bid the dragon to sleep. It worked and she escaped.

"It's why my eyes glowed gold," she murmured, feeling more comfortable in the knowledge that Smaug would not hurt her. "It's why I wanted to talk to you before…" she trailed off.

"Before the dwarves seek to take back my mountain," Smaug finished for her. "Yes, I can smell them. Vile creatures. Don't even taste good." The last part was mumbled to himself but she heard him.

"They wanted to kill you," she told him, raising a hand and placing it on his hide, scratching lightly. Smaug gave a rumbling purr, reminding her of a contented kitten rather than a great fire breathing dragon. "But I could not let that happen. Dragons are so few in this world. My magic and yours are so similar that I could not let them harm you without at least trying."

"Strange human," he told her, but she felt his magic brush against hers, almost familial in nature. "I find myself believing in your honesty, little witch."

"Then you become my friend and ally?" she asked hopefully.

"Perhaps," he rumbled. "I have been lazy here beneath this gold, perhaps it is time I begin to have hope in this world. Very well, little witch, I place my trust in your hands."

"Thank you," she smiled, scratching his tough hide once more. "I will endeavour not to break-" she could not finish her sentence for a sharp pain had her crying out. Confused, she only coughed wetly, watching as blood sprayed upon the dragon's scales. It took her a moment to realise that it had come from her, that the pain she felt was from the arrow that was now piercing through her chest. She looked down at its twisted point with a morbid fascination, her blood dripping from the arrowhead.

Smaug drew back with a furious roar, she turned to find Thorin, bow in his hand, glaring at the both of them.

"I was a fool to have you trusted you," he spat, angrily and slightly deranged. "You are not the Hope of Middle Earth. You are a servant of evil."

Beside him the other dwarves looked from their leader to Amethyst in horror and shock. But it was Bilbo she settled her gaze upon, watching as he cried out her name, yelled at Thorin and tried to approach her. The other dwarves didn't let him, instead, they were forced to flee under the wrath of Smaug's dragon fire. Smaug gave chase, leaving her alone amongst the cold gold.

She fell forwards, her eyes, glassy and dazed, found the Arkenstone, she watched it for a moment, entranced by its ethereal glow and dancing colours. It truly was stunning. She reached for it, her strength weakening, she gripped it as tight as she could before wrapping it in her magic.

"Go to Bilbo," she told it, for there was no one more she trusted with such an object. "Tell him not to give it to Thorin. Go to Bilbo." It disappeared.

She moaned in pain, using the last of her magical energy she banished the arrow and rolled over. The high ceiling of the treasury looked so far away, a dark and dull heaven that she could not, and did not want to, reach. The gold beneath her was a gilded hell, a cursed thing and tainted with malice and greed. She would have to do something about that, cast a purification spell or two. Only, she was so tired, her body hurt and she just wanted to rest. She closed her eyes and succumbed to darkness.

Random Omake (because I was bored):

Meanwhile in Mirkwood.

Thranduil looked over the bottles with a critical eye, a noise of consideration leaving his rose red lips, one was smaller than the other, silver in colour, the other was black. Clearly the latter held more within its container, but it was quality he was after, not quantity. He sighed, his was the worst part about bath time. His yellow ducky and rubber submarine made it fun to play in the water, but when it came to washing his hair he dreaded the thoughts. Sometimes, he wished his wife were still alive just so she could make the decision for him.

"Do I chose L'Oreal?" he pondered, tapping a finger against his chin. "I'm certainly worth it. It does say it brings the clarity back in blonde hair. I do like my blonde hair to be extra blonde. But I think Legolas uses this one, using the same shampoo as my son… It might make me hip with the young crowd. Come to think of it… Legolas is the youngest in my kingdom and he is coming onto his three-thousandth year. Is there anyone young enough to be hip with? Do they even say hip? I should find some young humans and ask."

He was getting side-tracked. He picked up the black bottle and read the information. "Salon silk? Oh my… I do like my hair silky. Up to seven times smoother hair!?" he gasped and clutched the bottle to him. "Calms frizz and flyaway hair, sweet Elbereth, can it get any better? Tames unruly hair leaving it smooth and salon-soft. I think we have a winner, oh Tresemme, do what you say on the bottle and you can add the official hair care product of King Thranduil to your label. That's sure to get you more customers."

He giggled in pure joy, quickly pouring the Tresemme shampoo into his hand, he lightly massaged it into his scalp. He couldn't wait to show off his new extra silky hair to his subjects, he looked forward to making them jealous and envious.

A/N: OMG! The shock! The horror! Hate me if you must, I made Thorin shoot Amethyst, before you jump down my throat and hate me completely, this had to happen for both Thorin and Amethyst to develop! There is a method to my madness. What do you think of my Smaug? He's a little different to canon, in that he is a shape shifter and a little nicer... to Amethyst... no one else. I mean, currently, he wants bbq dwarf so yeah. Either way, Bilbo still got the Arkenstone.

What did you think of Thror? And his prophetic-like words? Can you figure it out? I spent so long trying to word in a way that was cryptic, yet it could be worked out if you thought about it.

So, to sum up, Thorin succumbed to gold sickness upon seeing the treasure of Erebor. He shot Amethyst because he thought she was conspiring with Smaug, who he believes is the source of all evil. Amethyst may or may not be dead. Legolas and Tauriel are heading for Lake Town. Gandalf is trapped in Dol Guldor and mulling over the words told him by Thror, who wasn't really alive to begin with. Aaaaaaand Thranduil decides on his new shampoo product and worries whether or not he is hip enough, because my brain decided this would be a good thing to write... it scares me sometimes.

Please Review.