Chapter 12

"Quickly up the trees!"

Everyone frantically climbed up the towering pines but Magorpîn knew that what they needed was a miracle. The trees bought them time, but only just.

She looked down below and saw Bilbo struggling to remove Sting from a warg's head that had lunged for him. Behind him, there was another warg getting ready to leap at his back.

"Oh for the love of—!"

Magorpîn jumped to push Bilbo away from the warg's path and quickly lodged her knife into the warg's eye. "Climb faster," she grunted and drew out the weapon before using its twin to slash another warg's neck.

"Behind you!"

She dropped down to the ground as another warg leapt over her. With a fluid motion, she pushed herself off and began running towards the warg. It growled menacingly and ran to her but it once again missed as she leapt and kicked herself off its head in time, using it as a springboard to get back on the trees.

"Show off."

Magorpîn smirked back at Bilbo. "Jealous."

The tree shook as more wargs gathered below them. There were too many of them and these were just the entourage. Buffy looked back to Gandalf just in time to see a moth fly past him. They both looked at each other silently and the slayer nodded, knowing what must be done.

Keep everyone alive until their miracle arrived.

A throaty growl and some heavy footsteps brought everyone's attention back to the ground. The pack-master was here.

"Azog!" Thorin muttered in disbelief.

Although it was grunting in a foreign language, Magorpîn could tell that it was mocking them—Thorin in particular. She glanced over to dwarf and noted his shock and pain as he realized what Azog's existence meant.

"It cannot be…"

His grandfather…his people died for nothing at Moria.

The orc pointed its hand/mace towards the dwarves on the trees and signaled with a roar. Wargs poured down behind them, and began gnawing the trees down. One by one the trees fell on to each other and the dwarves could only leap to the next standing tree to avoid the snapping jaws of the wargs.

As Magorpîn managed to land on the last standing pine, she pulled herself up to the same branch that Thorin stood on. She had a sinking feeling about what he was thinking. Pushing aside her previous grievances with him, she grabbed his arm and brought him out of his dark thoughts.

He turned to her with a start, surprised at her touch.

"Don't do anything stupid."

He raised his brow but gave her a small nod. Bitter emotions were starting to consume him but his company needed their leader.

Suddenly a flash of fire came down from above, causing the wargs to scamper off as their fur caught flames. Magorpîn saw Gandalf passing down lit pinecones to the dwarves, who threw them down like incendiaries. Fire quickly spread through the dry grass and the rest of the fallen trees, pushing the wargs back. A couple of the younger dwarves cheered at this small victory but it was short lived. The added weight and the weakening ground caused their tree to loosen its hold and fall. Their hearts leapt as the old pine dangled dangerously over the cliff.

She reached over to Bombur, who was also losing his grip and pulled him up with a grunt.

"My thanks."

"You can thank me later when we're all out of this mess," she patted his arm. She turned, only to see Thorin striding down the tree his sword drawn.

What many of the dwarves would later call an act of bravery, Magorpîn decided to call pure idiocy.

"Is it really just in one ear and out the other with you dwarves or is that just men in general?" She stood up and drew her sword, ready to bring back the dwarves' idiot prince. But before she could even get off the tree, Thorin was already down on the ground, stunned by the blow to his chest. Within seconds, the white warg's jaws closed around Thorin and clenched with a sickening crack.

"Thorin!" Dwalin screamed as he struggled to get off the branch and aid his leader. Much to his dismay, the branch he was on broke under his weight and Buffy was forced to grab him by his coat in order to bring him back.

"So. Not. Helping."

She looked back just in time to see a second orc walk towards Thorin, with Bilbo running towards them…wait what?! Her heart leapt into her throat as she realized his intentions.

"Oh no he didn't," Buffy growled, finally tired of catching struggling dwarves and sprinted to catch up to the brave, stupid, reckless hobbit.

Bilbo was already ahead of her and managed to tackle down the orc that was about to behead Thorin. With a yell, he brought down his weapon over and over until the orc stopped moving.

Satisfied that Bilbo won this bout, Buffy stopped by Thorin side instead. She could see blood running down his neck, his armor heavily dented but thankfully not punctured. His face had several cuts and bruises, including the one she personally gave him. Deciding to ignore that fact, Buffy grabbed his hand tightly as she checked his other injuries.

"Thorin, look at me. Look at me," she grabbed his face as gently but as firmly as she could. Magorpîn could tell his vision was about to go but it was important that he stayed awake as long as possible. "If you die here, I will personally bring you back alive and kill you myself. And I know a thing or two about resurrections, so don't think this is just talk, understand?"

He blinked blearily before succumbing to the darkness. She pushed back the sudden fear that took hold of her when he closed his eyes and checked for his pulse instead.

He's only asleep, he's only asleep…

"Buffy. A little help?"

Bilbo's hiss brought her back and she turned to see three more orcs and even more wargs coming their way. The hobbit frantically waved his sword, trying to dissuade them from coming any closer. Just as one warg began to leap, Biblo saw Buffy's familiar knife suddenly lodge itself in its throat, causing the warg to gurgle throatily and buck its rider. Buffy leapt in to strike the fallen orc before beheading it in another fluid movement. Suddenly everything was back to the chaos of battle as several of the dwarves entered the fight with a cry.

She made sure to stay close to Bilbo and Thorin's body. The dwarf prince may be infuriating but she was not about to let an orc or a warg finish him.

From the corner of her eye, Buffy saw the Pale Orc push down Bilbo, ready to give the hobbit what was surely a life-ending blow. With a cry, she pushed Biblo down and took the hit herself, cracking a few ribs. Buffy grunted in pain, but was glad for the elven armor she had underneath.

"Magorpîn!"

The Orc drew closer, a disdainful sneer upon his face as he looked down at her. He grunted several words and once again drew his mace. Buffy gave a snarl and tightened her grip on her sword. It was going to take a lot more than an orc to kill her.

She feinted to the right, purposefully making her actions more sluggish than it really was. Azog smirked as he prepared to strike but roared in pain when he found her sword hilt-deep in the side of his knee. It effectively pinned him to his warg, which began snapping wildly.

It was Buffy's turn to sneer. "A little gift, from me to you." And with a vicious yank, she sliced off his limb.

Azog screamed in pain and began guttering out orders and curses at the Slayer as he fell over in surprise. She tightened her grip on her sword, prepared to end the Orc's life. A familiar cry from behind took her attention and she saw several more wargs circle in closer to Thorin and Bilbo. Without hesitation she started running back towards the pair.

Her heart jumped to her throat when she saw a warg leap over, its jaws ready to close in on Bilbo's head. Gods no!

Suddenly something fell from the sky and picked up the warg mid-leap. With a cry, the giant eagle and dropped its victim off at a deadly height. And then the rest of the cavalry swooped in. Some flew away with dwarves on their backs while others fanned the fires higher. She saw Bilbo's eyes widen with incredulity just as one of the giant birds swooped down and carry him off.

She sheathed her sword and grabbed Thorin up by his coat when an eagle landed nearby. With some difficulty, she boarded the eagle with Thorin on her front.

They launched off and Buffy saw Azog scream with frustration. This will not be the last time they saw of him, she was sure of it.

They flew well into the morning until one by one the eagles landed on a tall peak. Magorpîn's eagle was the first to land, followed by Gandalf and the rest.

"Thorin?" someone asked worriedly. Buffy hardly looked up to see who it was.

"He's fine…I think. He hasn't woken up but he is stable," Magorpîn muttered as she worked her way into undoing his armor. She paid little attention to her aching shoulder—which she had set during the flight—and opted to care for the unconscious dwarf instead. "Possibly some cracked ribs but hopefully Dwarven armor is as good as they say."

She ignored the scars that decorated his skin.

"Are you a healer as well, Magorpîn?" This time it was Bilbo who had asked.

Magorpîn glanced up and realized that the rest of the dwarves surrounded her. "Nope…just a lot of field experience." With a tight smile, she returned to moving aside Thorin's shirt and running her fingers across his torso, looking for the familiar bump of a broken rib.

There were several dark purple bruises running down his chest, presumably from the warg's bite. Thankfully the armor took the brunt of it; otherwise he would have surely been a pile of mangled mess. "He's fine; just a bit black and blue."

The Slayer stood up to let Gandalf take over. She walked over to Bilbo who still looked pale and in shock. "Is he...is Thorin going to be all right?"

"Oh you know these dwarves—hardy and practically a mountain," she gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his shoulder. "You did good Bilbo. Nearly gave me a heart attack, but you did good."

He gave her a half-smile. "What are you talking about? I gave myself a heart attack. Nearly wet myself in the process too but—"

"You!" Thorin's dark voice interrupted their light chatter and Magorpîn saw the hobbit swallow his nervousness. She could've sworn he even whimpered at the sight of the glowering dwarf.

"You could've gotten yourself killed! Did I not say you would be a burden…That you had no place amongst us?"

Bilbo had no words. All he could do was blink back stupidly at Thorin.

"I have never been so wrong in all my life," Thorin finished, pulling the hobbit in for a grateful embrace. "Thank you my friend."

Again, Bilbo was speechless, but smiled in relief and returned the gesture. He glanced over at Magorpîn who looked just as flabbergasted as he was. The hobbit was touched to receive his friendship.

The mood suddenly shifted and everyone found themselves cheering and sighing with relief. It has been a long and tumultuous night and everyone was tired to the bone. But nevertheless, they were in one piece and alive, and that was enough to call for a celebration.

Thorin pulled away and gave the hobbit a genuine smile. "I am sorry I ever doubted you."

"Oh no," Bilbo shrugged it off. "I doubted me too. I am not a hero, or a warrior…or even a burglar." At this he gave Gandalf a look, causing everyone to laugh. "I'm just…me."

"And you," Thorin turned to the slayer. She stiffened at his tone.

"If you think for one second that I shouldn't be here, you have another thing coming. You had no—"

"Thank you."

Her mouth snapped shut. He clearly had been hit too many times that night.

"For coming back," Thorin continued, giving her the same warm look from before. "We…I should not have left you behind in Rivendell. You have saved our lives—my life—twice now, and almost at the cost of your own. Thank you."

He grabbed her into an embrace quickly – too quick for her to sidestep.

Flustered at his sudden display of emotions, she patted him on the shoulder awkwardly. She ignored the sudden warmth; clearly she also got hit too many times tonight.

"There, there. Where's the stoic prince we all know?"

Thorin ignored the jibe even a few of the others chuckled, and gave her an open smile instead.

"Is that what I think it is?"

Everyone turned suddenly realizing where they were. Away from the Goblin King's mountain and far from the clutches of Azog, they found themselves at the edges of the Grey Mountains. Thanks to the eagles, the Lonely Mountain was finally within sight.

Gandalf nodded. "Erebor, the Lonely Mountain. The last of the Great Dwarf Kingdoms of Middle Earth."

Buffy could practically taste the longing and pride from the dwarves. She stared at Thorin, before looking back at Lonely Mountain.

"Our home."

Buffy let out a small smile.

And on the way to mine.

…

North of the Misty Mountains…

Deep in the ruins the shadow crept and waited and plotted.

It returned to the land of the living long ago by the hand of its master. And it's been years since he had brought his weapon to this world. He had planned to use it to lay waste and death to whoever dared defy them. His and his master's return to power would have come much sooner but he did not expect it to fight back so fiercely.

It had escaped their grasps and for years it was lost to him.

But the Witch King had always been able to feel its presence for it was bound to him. And as his powers grow stronger each day, he could feel its desires…the darkness within. It won't be long before it returned to him and when it does, nothing can save Middle Earth.

And so deep in the shadows he crept.

He waited.

And he plotted.