I am not Tolkien (could never create a whole new language) nor am I Rowling.

Hey all!

After more than a year out in the hinterlands, here, finally, is the next chapter of Fate Touched in Middle Earth. It has not ever done very well in the polls, but finally, the stars aligned, and it was able to win out in the small story poll, beating out Stallion of the Line thanks to my own votes going towards this story. Because of that, Stallion will be updated next month as the first story I'll have up. This and another decision I've made regarding the large story poll will have an impact on November's poll.

Here on Fanfic that should be up by tonight, so remember to check it out if you want to vote, even if this chapter is the shortest I've ever posted LOL. Seriously, I wasn't able to finish the chapter I wanted to. I thought I'd have this whole week off to work on it, that did not happen. Still, I hope you all enjoy this even if it isn't the full chapter I wanted to put out this month.

In other news, ATP will be up today, probably at the last minute. I am giving Michael Duggan as much time as possible to get it to me. but this has sort of backfired since he was out of touch the first two weeks of the month. Nor will it have been seen by my Asatru/Asgardian expert Mordreek, since I wanted to send him the version my small mistake guy had already seen. I will mark out the segment that he would be most interested in by an OO(M)OO symbol when I post it so that when he does get that segment it will be easy for people to go back and see his changes.

Bhaalson Remodel won the other poll, so that, and the next chapter of Making Waves here on fanfic, will be the only stories I update today.

Chapter 7: From Fire to Air In One Easy Leap

The group raced as fast as the stocky legs of the dwarfs could carry them down the mountain. Surprisingly, despite the fact that Harry was now officially classified as baggage, that was quite fast. At least for dwarfs. This was helped by Bombur tossing himself down the mountain with almost suicidal abandon whenever he was in danger of being left behind. This action soon covered him with small bruises, but he kept up grimly with the group, unwilling to fall behind for more than a moment. If the goblins could get through the rubble of the tunnel behind them, the dwarves were too exhausted to put up much of a fight.

Harry was being carried by the largest and most physically powerful dwarf, Dori, with Gandalf and Thorin leading the way. Nori and Bofur, the most trail-savvy of the dwarves were at the back of the group, doing what they could to cover their tracks. This wasn't very much at first, but as the bones of the mountain began to abound all around, their task became easier.

At the front of the group Gandalf led them, seeming to know these lands and having a specific goal in mind, though how this came to be, Thorin had no idea. Regardless, at the moment he was simply very thankful for, instead of irritated and annoyed by the wizard's all-knowing attitude as he normally would be.

Running next to him, he asked, "how far do you think we should go, before resting? And is there a place we will be able to do so in some safety?"

"That is an interesting question master dwarf. I do not know if I have ever safe while resting outside of Rivendell and we are certainly not going towards those hallowed halls," Gandalf said, running along beside Thorin.

He did so with an ease that Thorin ached to put down to his long legs but knew he couldn't. For all that he was old, Gandalf was as tough as a gnarled oak and seemed to have a bottomless source of endurance. That I can hopefully put down to magic at least.

Tin reply to Gandalf's quip though, he replied as bluntly and coldly as he could without giving offense. "No, we are not. Now please answer the question. None of us got much sleep last night, we just had one of the toughest fights I've ever been in, we have injured, and goblins on our tail. If there is no place safe to rest, do you know a place where we could perhaps throw any pursuers off our tracks?"

"That is a better question," Gandalf replied with a laugh, pointing ahead with his staff. "Ask, and you shall receive."

Thorin looked ahead, then gave Gandalf a dirty look. "You're not going to try to claim that you conjured a river into being, are you? Or somehow convinced me to ask that question just now? That was pure coincidence, nothing wizardly about it!"

"You cannot blame a wizard for wanting to be mysterious, it is good for the trade," Gandalf said, stopping in place and gesturing the dwarves on. "On, on! Through the river and over the other side. You should see a giant boulder, just over the cleft of the rise of the mountain. We can hide there out of sight for a time and hope to throw any pursuit off."

The dwarves kept on, with Gandalf moving quickly in between them, laying a hand lightly on Harry's forehead, frowning first at the massive blotch now covering his face, then his eyes widened, and his lips quirked into a wry smile behind his beard, before turning away, gesturing the others on which included Bilbo at this moment. "On Mr. Baggins! Over the river and on!"

"That looks astonishingly cold," Bilbo said, shaking his head before leaping off the side of the riverbed and into the river. Splashing through onto the other side he nodded at the dwarf who had leaped in with him. "I was right, it was deucedly cold." The dwarf, Gloin, let out a bark of laughter, then turned to help Dori get up onto the bank while still carrying Harry.

Gandalf followed after the group and as he did, he held his staff sideways, the head of it above his free hand as he began to murmur.

None of the dwarves or Bilbo were magic users. But if they were they would've been able to see tiny zephyrs of wind appearing around the staff's head, then blowing over the river and around the dwarves then away, moving down the side of the river south, rather than the west that the dwarves were moving in. Another whispered spell, and the few tracks Gandalf could see on the mud of the river disappeared under the water of the river as it flooded its banks just there under Gandalf's direction. It wouldn't fool anyone for very long, but it would hopefully give them a few hours extra before the pursuers were on the trail again.

Job done Gandalf quickly caught up with the dwarves, and soon all of them were resting underneath the large boulder that he had told them about. As the others rested, he examined them closely one after another. "I see no one besides young Harry has been wounded overmuch."

"Bah, we're just run ragged is all," said Nori, shaking his head. "Are we going to stop here?"

"Indeed not Nori,", Gandalf said. "We merely will stay out of sight for a moment."

"Sound thinking," Balin muttered, staring down the mountainside from where they were hiding. There they could see the outskirts of a forest begin to climb the side of the mountain. But between it and where they were now was nothing but a few small scattered rocks and bare earth. "We would be caught out I the open out there."

"I'll climb back up and hid in the shrubs on the rock above us," Bilbo said quickly. "We can't be caught unawares if the goblins aren't fooled by whatever it is you did back there Gandalf."

"On with you then Bilbo, "Thorin said, clapping them on the shoulder, squeezing lightly to show his appreciation of the hobbit's return to them and his willingness to help.

"Indeed, thank you for the offer Bilbo," Gandalf said with a laugh, reaching with a gentle finger to poke Bilbo in the chest. "You might be half the hobbit you are when we set out young Bilbo, but you have proven to be at least twice the scout anyone could have hoped for."

Bilbo smiled wryly at that and raced up onto the rock and then upwards further into the bushes that had begun to grow in the dirt covering the top of the rock. He hid there, not using the ring for the moment. He didn't want Gandalf to chance to look come looking for him. And besides, the day of hobbit can't hide in shrubs like this, is the day that hobbit should go home and never leave his whole again! And so he hid, ignoring with ease the idea of putting on the ring he had taken from Gollum again to stare upslope.

He held back a shudder as now, with the adrenaline leaving him, he thought about the poor creature and how it had fought to kill him and reclaim it's Precious. It had been the most harrowing experience he'd yet had in his life, and after this trip, that was truly saying something. And even now, with the pain of his numerous injuries making themselves known, Bilbo could still feel only regret at the creature's death.

After a moment he stopped thinking about Gollum however as he watched a band of goblins riding wargs come down the mountain. They stopped at the river, their mounts yipping and yapping at one another, one of them being pushed into the water by their fellows before it hopped out.

But they didn't cross. Instead, they wargs seemed to pick up the scent of something and raced off along the river on the other side. Bilbo kept watching for several minutes until the band of would-be hunters was out of sight, then Bilbo backed away, slowly, no sudden movements to grab attention just in case.

Now he put on the ring, turned and raced back the way he'd come, pulling it off then hopping down the side of the large rock and into the and under the outcropping it created, nearly stumbling as his side flared in agony. Kili, standing there watching the area around them, caught him, frowning at his friend while Bilbo gasped out his report. "Th, they're following some kind of scent, down the river. I think if we make a break for it now, we can gain those trees quickly enough."

Gandalf smiled in pleased relief, and Thorin nodded. "Move," he said, not even bothering to raise his voice. All the dwarves were instantly on their feet and moving, with Harry again imitating luggage on the strongest dwarfs back and Kili now sticking close to Bilbo, watching in concern as the hobbit held his side.

They were able to cross the open territory without incident and were soon within the forest. There they continued on slowly pushing deeper and with every step, Kili became more certain that Bilbo was wounded. He soon called for a halt, asking for Gandalf and Oin to come and half a look at him.

Bilbo protested, however, saying, "We can't stop here, I can keep going. If you have something for the pain I'll take it, but we can't yet rest."

Gandalf frowned at him but nodded. "Mr. Baggins does have a point. We must move on. But…" he reached inside to a pocket in his long gray cloak, pulling out some bread. "Lembas, the bread of the elves. It will not aid the pain, but it will fill you up and give you an instant burst of energy." He looked around at the dwarves and sighed, breaking the hand-sized wedge into bites for all of them. "Best you all take some now."

The dwarves nodded, while Oin gave Bilbo a sip from a tiny white-marked flask. It was a special medical mead, mixed with a type of flower traded from his distant kin. In small quantities, it would deaden the sensation of pain in the body. The dwarves used it on occasion to help deaden a warrior's pain when they were trying to sew up horrible wounds or even cut off limbs to save a life.

And as Bilbo drank, the dwarf poked and prodded him as much as he could without stripping the hobbit bare, shaking his head. "Numerous bruises, bad ones too I'll wager, and a rib was broken too. A clean break, but still broken. I'll give you more of the painkiller every quarter-day for the next two days, but I don't have enough to use on just you Bilbo. After that, we'll have had time to tie them up at least."

"How did you get yourself so battered Bilbo? And how did you appear so suddenly?" Balin asked, shaking his head. "I might be old, but my eyes are still good. And I'd have sworn there was naught there but…"

"There was a small hidden culvert in an offshoot of the main passage, that I found. With all the noise you all were making I hid there, thinking you were orcs until I heard your voices clearly," Bilbo said with a shrug. "My tale before that was much more eventful."

For some reason, Bilbo was very reluctant to share the information about his ring, not with anyone including Gandalf. It's a magical item, after all. I'm certain he would object to it being in a non-wizards possession out of hand.

Gandalf was staring at him as if he knew there was more to it, but Thorin and the other dwarves took his words face value. "Tell us your tale then. We all thought you dead after you fell off the net."

Bilbo shuddered. That, that was the most harrowing experience, my friends. That initial area we all fell into, with the ropes, and the hanging net? It resides over a bottomless pit, a hole in the earth. I don't know how long I fell, with that goblin with me, but thankfully, I spotted a glint of something below me, some tiny glimmer of the ground, and I put the goblin between myself and it. We bounced several times, the ground was in no way formfitting to the hole, rather it tapered off like a funnel almost. By the time I was at the end of the funnel, the goblin was near to flattened, although somehow still alive! And then I fell through and splashed into this deep pool."

"Let me tell you, I have never moved as fast as I did to get away from that goblin's body. And it was well I did," Bilbo said, mixing truth with fiction with an ease that should have surprised him, but somehow didn't. "Soon enough I found myself on the shore, watching as something in the water ate the goblin. That goblin my friends, saved my life, at least in a way." he just told.

There I, well I had to sneak around numerous goblins, attempting all the while to keep moving through the mountain, hoping to find an exit. It worked eventually, but I was ambushed by a goblin at one point. He knocked Sting right out of my hand, and we both had to scramble with one another, which was most distressing. He hit me more than a few times with a rock while trying to bash my head in, but I eventually fought him off and stabbed him with Sting."

"Hah, wrestling a goblin, and then evading dozens more! That's a fine adventure you had while away Bilbo, one that will no doubt astonish your fellow hobbits back home."

"Yes well," Bilbo muttered, looking a little sheepish "I have to raise myself up by my suspenders to be even with all of you. After all, I didn't take part in a desperate, insane fight against thousands upon thousands of goblins after all. If we're talking about tales, that surely takes the cake."

The dwarves all chuckled at that, although it was a weary, wan chuckle. It had been close. Very, very close. Without Gandalf's sudden return, without Harry, and without the tunnel out of the mountain that they had found after crashing down from Goblin Town all of them would be dead by this point. Or worse, wishing for death like Thorin and Harry, waiting to be handed over to the White Orc or his foul master.

"How is he?" Bilbo asked, gesturing ahead of him to Harry was still riding on a dwarf. "Have you had time to look at him?"

Harry's face was splotchy, red and black from his left ear all the way down to under his shirt. His shoulder had also been dislocated, although Gandalf had already set it back in. the pain of that should have woken Harry up, but it hadn't. And his pallor, even where his face wasn't black and blue, was very poor.

Thorin shook his head, trying to smile despite the worry plain in his gruff tone. Harry will be fine; he is a tough piece of granite. He just needs rest from overexerting himself. With Harry, I think it is most definitely a case of what doesn't kill him right away won't."

Gandalf looked at him, nodding slowly. "Oddly enough, I find myself in agreement with Thorin on this point. Harry is suffering from a minor concussion, on top of a major case of magical exhaustion. Rest, and more rest will do for him. But the same could be said for all of you." He pushed himself to his feet, staring around them, then pointing out in a seemingly random direction, just like any other the dwarves could see. "Move on my good dwarves, lest you find yourselves once more a guest of goblins and their hospitality."

With a weary groan, the dwarves and Bilbo complied, and the group was off once more through the forest, heading down the mountain.

OOOOOOO

Behind the dwarves, the goblin domain was a shamble of what it had once been. The massive stalactite which had burst loose had fallen down crushing much of the community which had originally been built up around the chasm beneath it. Goblin Town as it had been called, was completely gone. In its destruction, the goblins had lost untold thousands of their numbers. Of course, no one was certain how many of them there had been, but there was certainly a lot less now.

They would rebuild eventually but at the moment, they had no desire to venture out in the daylight to chase the dwarves and their wizard allies down. They only sent out a band of twenty to try and find their trail, a token force more to salve their pride, with no real chance of taking on the dwarves even in the open. At the same time, however, they sent out messages. The White Orc would have to divert further down the mountain in order to catch them before they entered the territory of the blasted skin-changer.

OOOOOOO

Hours later as the sun was beginning to go down Harry was still unconscious. But while Thorin now looked a little worried, Gandalf was not. "He needs just to sleep and let his body heal," the older wizard said. I would estimate no more than two days or so, but I do not know the impact his magic will have on his ability to rouse from a head wound. Whether or not his magic will help you, or his bodies need to refill his magical reserves will slow the healing process I cannot tell you. I've never seen or taken myself the head wound after using so much magic."

"But we must push on," Gandalf said after pushing himself to his feet again. "We must."

Bilbo shook his head. He and Fili had just returned from climbing a tree, despite his wounds Bilbo was easily the best tree climber of them all. But he was bone-weary, and the medical mead was beginning to wear off. "I don't know Gandalf we haven't seen any pursuit. Perhaps they have given up?" He paused as wolf howls echoed in the distance. It was still distant, but there was no mistaking that sound and Bilbo shook his head. "Okay, never-mind what I said."

The dwarves on the, however, were already on the move and Bilbo hurried after them.

As they ran, Gandalf frowned heavily. They aren't coming from directly behind us, thanks to the spell I've been using, we don't have much of a scent in that direction anyway… These might not be mere goblins then…

Soon the wargs, cutting the angle on the dwarves, had their scent whatever Gandalf could do, and their howls reverberated through the pine forest, the sound coming closer and closer.

"Dammit!" Thorin growled. "Is there any, way you can throw them off the trail again Gandalf?"

"I'm afraid not," Thorin Gandalf said with a sigh. "Not unless we come to another stream we can cross, but I do not believe we will do so. It was a combination of my magic and the stream that allowed me to do so last time. And these wargs are being driven harder than the others, they will not give over until they can run no longer, or we cannot."

Thorin grumbled but nodded. "Then how about hiding us? Perhaps covering us in a mound of dirt, create a cavern in the ground that we can hide in for a time until they have passed us by?"

"I am not Harry, Thorin! My magic is more subtle and deals with air wind and lightning, rather than creation, or the earth. If you wanted in earth mage, you will be sorely disappointed in my skills."

In another life, Thorin might well have taken umbrage at Gandalf's words, and taken him to task severely for not being all that good a wizard. In this one, he merely sighed, glanced over at Harry and nodded ruefully. "Understood." Then his eyes twinkle the little as he kept on running next to Gandalf. "But how does it feel to come up short when compared to a younger wizard?"

Gandalf mock glared at him, but their momentary humor vanished with the wind as the sound of the wargs reverberated through the pine forest behind them.

However, Gandalf had not been leading them willy-nilly. He had a purpose, a way for them to escape in such a manner that no goblin or orc would be able to follow.

Soon they came to where the pine forest suddenly ended in a large gorge, its edges barred stone all the way down. Several large trees jutted out almost on a diagonal across the chasm, huge examples of their breed, despite their perfect carious perch on the edge of the gulf below.

"Wh, where've you been leading us Gandalf!?" Dwalin roared, staring at the gorge then up to the wizard. "It's a dead-end unless you can turn us all into birds and let us fly away!"

"Up!" Gandalf shouted "Up into the trees! Your guess Dwalin might prove the correct one in time, but now, let us at least get off the ground before the wargs arrive!"

"What are you doing?" Thorin growled angrily. "If anything, we should see if we can climb down the edge! Going up makes this cliffed even more of a dead-end then it already is."

Not with a wizard to hand Thorin." Gandalf looked down at Thorin, his eyes dark and serious. "You must trust me."

Thorin frowned at him, and Gandalf and he stared at one another for a few moments, then Thorin sighed turning away. "Up!" he ordered. "We must trust the wizard to be as good as his word in this. We have no chance against the number of goblins behind us regardless."

Dwalin looked to argue as did Bombur and Bifur, but Thorin glared them all down and they started to move.

Of course, getting them all up into the trees was not exactly a simple task, especially with Bombur and Oin. But they were able to do it eventually, spread out between two trees. And just in time too, because as Bilbo and Ori were pushing the final dwarf up into the trees to their fellows, the wargs came within sight through the trees.

And there were no goblins on these wargs. Instead, they were be being driven by orcs. Orcs larger, stronger and more dangerous looking than any Bilbo had seen heretofore. Their skin was pale green and dark gray, their armor black. Their wargs too were larger than any Bilbo had seen in the fight before Rivendell. This might have made them a bit slower, but they came on now, howling in victory with their riders.

And one of those riders was taller, wider, more powerful-looking even then his fellows. He wore no armor above the waist but held a giant cleaver-like sword in one hand. His other ended in a claw. On his face was a large scar running right above one eye. And his skin was almost the white of snow.

The sight of that orc caused Thorin to gape, his eyes going wide. "He's alive… I, I had hoped it was but a lie, but Azog still lives!"

Gandalf too was staring at him in shock and worry.

The white orc smiled up at them, a thing of fangs and hate than anything else. "Such odd birds we have found in their nests. Shall we see if they can fly?" He turned to his followers shouting, "Fire, set fire to the trees below them. We will burn them out or watch them suffocate and die." He turned back, his eyes latching onto Thorin, his feral smile widening still further. "So long as it is long and lingering I care not."

He kept staring at the dwarf as his fellow gather pine needles and other brush and then lighting it on fire. In the trees, the dwarves instantly began shouting and even Bilbo was now terrified.

But they still had Gandalf. Gandalf and his magic, which while not as varied or splendiferous as Harry's, still could serve a purpose. Now he used that magic, taking the pinecones around them and changing them into weapons. Harry would've likened them to tiny, flashbangs, nothing more than sound and fury.

And yet, he still worked quite well. One of them smashed into the nose of a wolf and it yelped, hopping away and so suddenly frightened by the flash of fire and heat it threw its rider. Other wargs danced and howled, backing away rapidly from the beleaguered dwarves.

While the fire was spreading still, it wasn't spreading fast enough for Azog. "Rope!" he roared, breaking his stare-down with Thorin at last. "We will pull the trees down one at a time and feast on their corpses. Start with that one!" he ordered, pointing at the tree containing Thorin, Balin, Dwalin, Fili, Gloin, and Bofur.

This worked far better. With a few wolves and their riders still darting in to try and toss torches onto the still-smoldering fires, two others with a rope between them moved around the tree and away. More wargs joined them, and they began to pull. Weakened by its position on the cliff edge and the fire, the tree slowly started to sway, then fall inexorably to the ground, much to the shocked fear and dismay of the dwarves within.

The rope too caught fire, and Gandalf and the dwarves near him had not stopped tossing their bomb cones. But the damage had already been done. Even as the wolves retreated from their assault, the tree reached the halfway point to the ground, and after that, momentum and gravity took over. There was a tremendous 'CRAASSSH!' and the tree, with the dwarves aboard, smashed into the ground.

The fire started to spread in earnest now, as the dwarves groggily got to their hands and knees among the wreckage. Gandalf paled in his tree, staring and Bilbo shouted, "Thorin, everyone, are you all right!?"

Pushing out of the tree limbs, Thorin was the first to be seen, and Azog's snarl came back. He pointed his large sword at him, intoning, "Bring me Oakenshield alive. Kill the rest."

The orcs and their wargs raced forward but were kept at bay by a renewed assault of pinecones. This let Thorin get to his feet before meeting the first Warg with Orcrist. His sword caught the warg across its face slicing into its saw and cutting off half it's maw before cutting off the orc rider's leg. He then grabbed the orc's arm and twisted it into the way of another warg rider, whose warg tried to flinch away from the body smacking into its nose. Thorin leaped forward-thrusting hard and stabbing the orc through the chest.

But a third warg smashed him from the side, bringing him down. He barely got his sword up in time to skewer the thing through the mouth, but it's dead corpse still smashed him off his feet, rolling in the dirt. His sword was buried underneath the warg now. He scrambled ineffectively to try to grab it before he was pinned down by another wolf, this one the white warg that Azog was using. Azog looked down at him, his fangs flashing. "Thorin Oakenshield," he said in common, before laughing.

Then Azog reached down, it's hook glistening in the firelight and lingering light of day.

Then his wolf was yipping and falling backward as Bilbo was suddenly there, having raced after Thorin. With sting glowing like a sun given the form of a sword, slicing into the side of the wolf, not deeply, but enough to Sting. And furthermore, his blade was that of an Elven warrior, wrapped around with spells to make it the bane of all things dark. And so were wargs despite being a natural creature, warped and twisted by being near orcs.

Thorin gaped, staring up at Bilbo for a moment, then the rest of the dwarves from the downed tree were there roaring and shouting, grabbing up what weapons they could, most of them having lost their weapons in the wild chase through the woods. "Baruk Khazad, Khazad Ai Menu!"

This allowed Fili, Dwalin, and Gloin to reach Thorin and Bilbo. Two of them pushed the wolf off of their trapped King, who grabbed up his sword and quickly blocked a sword thrust from one of the other orcs that would have taken Gloin in the back.

A short, very sharp melee occurred there, seven orcs against the five of them, with the seven unable to encircle the five dwarves thanks to the scattered fires. Those fires kept the rest of Azog's forces away and the bomb-cones of the dwarves who had remained in the second tree.

At that moment, Gandalf took a brief second to reach out with one hand as if holding a cup of water. A butterfly flitted towards him from the woods, landing on his hand. Gandalf whispered into his hands and the butterfly glowed for a brief moment before flitting away, letting Gandalf turn his attention to the battle below. He did so just in time, and his staff flashed in the light as he summoned his magic once more.

Thorin hacked one of them down in the next instant, dancing around his fellow's attack. Dwalin reached his side, killing the orc who had attacked Thorin before blocking a blow aimed at his head. The

At the same time, Thorin answered, and Bilbo's less deep but no less determined voice. As he snapped thrust, moving around dancing around us were orcs, and not ever trying to their chest or upper body. No, Bilbo small and the woods. He disdained such quick blows that would have seen the orcs trying to block them. Instead, he went for the legs. He went for their feet.

An orc flailed backward screaming as a foot was stabbed and then was neatly beheaded by Thorin who laughed. "Well done Mister Baggins!"

Bilbo took them in the legs, dodging around one dwarf, he hacked into the leg too low and too fast for the orc to do anything about it. His wild attempt opened him up for another attack from his opponent, and he fell to Kili's strike. "My thanks, Bilbo!"

In this manner, with their fellows hurling the flash-cones, they moved back as more orcs appeared.

Yet at the same time, Thorin roared out a challenge, pointing his Elvish blade over the fires towards Azog, matching the white Orcs, a wild fury filling him. Much like the love of gold the descendants of Durin sometimes felt the lash of the berserker, and the sight of the orc who killed his father and so many of his people had pushed Thorin to the brink of that state. "Coward!" he shouted. "I would have faced you in single combat. Yet you huddle behind your fellow orcs, like a human woman! Craven!"

The insult was too much and Azog roared, putting start his stirrups into the side of his wolf. They bounded forward into the fire and across towards Thorin and the others.

Thorin laughed, his eyes wild as all of the dead of the war of the mountains came back to him, all of the friends he'd lost, his father's hacked off head held up in Azog's hand, the body of his younger brother Frerin among the mounds of dead. With those images in his head, he charged. "Baruk Khazad, Tanar Thrain Nur!"

But before the two of them could clash, the fire between them roared up. The white wolf, who had been brave enough to face the pinecones, was unwilling to face the fire and yelped, twisting around. On the other side of the fire, Thorin halted his own charge, scowling angrily at the orc who was now trying to pull his wolf around.

"Enough Thorin! Even if you can slay him, the others will do us in! Join us up in the trees my friends!" Gandalf shouted from above, where he was standing out in the open, weaving his sword in one hand and his staff in the other.

It was only now that Thorin realized that there had been a lot more orcs than he, Dwalin and the others had been fighting. Behind them came more than two dozen archers, who had been firing up into the tree trying to halt the onslaught of pine bombs.

But Gandalf had used his magic once more, creating a barrier of wind that halted all of their arrows in place, while letting the pinecones through. It was more of a show of power that he would've preferred, but desperate times called for equally desperate measures. "Up the tree you fools!" he shouted. "I cannot keep this up forever."

Thorin grumbled, but he was in charge of his faculties once more and looked around at his friends. "Up," he said with a nod towards the trees. "Up you go my friends."

He sheathed his sword, clasping each warrior on the shoulder and hoisting them up into the tree one after another. Dwalin was first, followed by Gloin, then Bofur and the others.

He was the last to climb up, grabbed by Bilbo and Dwalin, who hauled him up easily into the lower limbs of the tree. He stood there as the others continued their way up, scowling across the growing fire at Azog. "Somehow," he said to himself, "somehow I think he and I are going to meet again. A third time to settle everything."

"When you do, you'll have my sword and my bow at your back," Fili said instantly.

The rightful King Under the Mountain smiled at his nephew, clapping him on the shoulder. "I do not doubt it. Now up! I have no idea what mad scheme Gandalf has to get us out of this, but the further away from the fumes of the fires, the better." With that, he deliberately turned his back on Azog, climbing up into the trees.

He quickly ascended up to next to Gandalf, looking at the wizard who had stopped his incantations now, the orcs apparently having run out of arrows. They were still out there though, watching, waiting, knowing that the dwarves were trapped, laughing. It was obvious to them the dwarves would either die from the fire and smoke, jump to their deaths, or come down and attempt to fight. Regardless, their deaths were certain.

"And how are we going to escape this parallel wizard?" Thorin asked, one eyebrow raising in query. His earlier berserk state seemed to have burned him out somewhat, and he was feeling oddly mellow. That did not mean, however, that he could see a way out of their current plight.

"Why, with a little help from some big friends of mine," Gandalf said, smiling as he stared up into the air above them.

Thorin did the same, and for a moment, he couldn't understand what he was seeing. It looked like a group of eagles up in the sky. Unusual to be sure, since eagles were solitary birds. But as they came closer, Thorin realized with a start they weren't as close as he had thought from the size of them. And that size too grew.

But Thorin's attention was pulled back to earth as the fire had reached the tree they were all gathered in now and was rapidly crawling up its ancient timbers. Beside him, Gandalf took one look down at it, then around at the dwarves then out into the Gulf of the canyon beyond. "Jump!"

He put action to words a second later as the dwarves gaped at him in slack-jawed astonishment. But a bare later, they saw the giant Eagle, the first of many circling above, swooping down, grabbing up Gandalf in its claws and flying away with him.

"Wizards!" Thorin shouted his voice somewhere between a curse and a laugh of sheer stunned surprise and fear. A lot of fear admittedly, but he knew that this was the only way out. Curse wizards and their mad schemes! "You heard the man," he said. Death by Eagle or possible escape, or certain death here. Leap!"

Kili and Fili took one look at one another, then grinned and with twin whoops leaped out of the tree. Thorin had a brief moment to wonder where his sister and her husband had gone wrong in rearing those two before Ori and Nori joined them, followed by Bifur and Bofur.

Dwalin refused to even think it. "This is madness, they've all gone mad, what dwarf would leave the ground for something like that!"

"Would you rather burn!?" Balin shouted at his obstinate brother.

"I'd rather not do either," Dwalin roared back.

"That isn't a choice!" With that Balin decided he had to show his younger brother the way forward, gathering his courage and leaping off into the nothing beyond.

Behind him, Dwalin grumbled irritably. "Bah, I can't have Balin of all people showing more courage than me." With that he leaped out after his brother, the both of them falling through the air to be plucked up like rabbits in the talons of the giant eagles.

In this manner, the dwarves flung themselves out into the vastness beyond, to be picked up by the Eagles and then carried away. Of course, the orcs realized what was happening, but even as they shouted and screamed their fury, the eagles were attacking them too. While others swooped or circled above, a group of five eagles attacked the orcs and wargs with vicious glee, their strident cries like bulges on the wind. More than one warg threw its rider as those eagles dove and more than one orc was plucked up to be then dropped to splatter on the ground below.

Azog kept control of his beast, yet he was still forced to retreat, his company being out of arrows and thus having no means to fight the eagles save let them come to them, which was a fool's game. "Spears!" he roared out. "Grab up large pieces of wood, stick them up above us like spears!"

But this would be too little, too late, and Azog knew it. He could only stare from the relative safety of the trees nearby as his prey was snatched from his grasp.

Soon the only ones left in the burning tree were Dori, Thorin, and Harry. "What about Harry?" Dori shouted over the fire and tumult of the battle if battle it could be called now.

"Give him here," Thorin ordered. "You're heavier than I am, we can't afford to burden our saviors. But give me your belt first."

"It's the muscles I tell you, the muscles," Dori grumbled, his voice lost to Thorin. But he obeyed, handing Harry over then, having figured out what his king wanted, looped his belt around both Thorin and Harry. It fit, barely, but it tied Harry to the dwarf's back.

Harry was still unconscious, a limp form in his arms. But tied like this and with his arms grabbing Harry's as they crossed over his chest, Thorin leaped out to join his fellows. The air whipped around him, his own beard almost blinding him, then a second later, he felt an impact as the eagle apparently assigned to him grabbed both him and Harry.

It squawked something, but Thorin couldn't understand the speech of eagles, and after what sounded like the eagle-equivalent of confused grumbling had both him and Harry safely in its talons. Then its wings pumped once and they were away, flying out from the Misty Mountains.

For a moment, Bilbo just stared all around him at the Vista that was laid out above, below and to all sides. "So, this is what it would be like if I had wings? Magnificent!"

The Eagle carrying him seems to agree, letting loose a single loud Eagle cry in reply.

At the head of the roof of flying animals, Gandalf looked up at the Gwaihir the Wind Lord, the largest bird of the age, whose size and intelligence harkened back to the times of the great battles against Morgoth when the eagles flew into battle with the armies of the Valar. "I thank you for the timely arrival, my friend. You are the very definition of a friend indeed who comes in great need."

"Not so great as that what you will face in the future, Olorin. You and I both know I am fated to be thy steed three times, each one to rescue you from a greater danger than the last. If all you have to fear the is orcs and fire, then I will count myself and my purpose rather cheaply sought," the eagle replied in Quenya, the language of the Valar who had given his people their size and intelligence, thus winning their loyalty and the loyalty of all good birds for all time.

Gandalf burst out into laughter, shaking his head. "You are in an interesting mood."

"The hunt for you brought us wargs to eat. We will not feast upon the orcs, for their flesh his vile, made of foul things. But the wargs will make good eating. And it must be said, there is a feeling in the air these days, I can feel it in my pinions. Something new has been added to the world Gandalf, some entirely new! That has not happened since my forefathers were but chicks, and I think it presages something interesting in the future. Great and terrible but interesting."

"I can agree with the sentiment Gwaihir, and I could even point to the cause."

They were interrupted by a screeching cry from one of the birds, to which the Wind Lord replied before looking down again with one of his eyes at Gandalf. "One of your companions is dead? Gwered says that he is tied to one of the dwarves, a human man."

"Unconscious only," Gandalf replied with a chuckle. "And will no doubt be incredibly sad to have missed this." He gestured around them with his staff which he still held in one hand. His sword he had sheathed at his side, and it was clanking against his leg. But his staff he kept in his hand. "Of all of us, I think he would miss this moment the most, for he has spoken of his own adventures in the air."

"Truly? A human speaking of adventures in the air?" Gwaihir replied with a cawing laugh.

"Indeed, where he comes from, his people have created magics enchantments that allow them to fly up brooms as if they too were eagles. They even apparently have some kind of national game based upon teams that compete against one another."

Gwaihir was silent for a moment thinking this through, then said simply "What is a broom?"

Gandalf laughed again, gaily this time. As he tried to explain this and the odd game of Quidditch all around him, the dwarves and Bilbo remained silent, awed by the vista that the eagles were showing them. As escapes went, the thought passed around them, this would take some beating.

OOOOOOO

Azog roared his anger and fury at the sky, then turned, grabbing his wolf by the scruffy its neck, causing it to whimper, leaping into the saddle a second later. "Ride!" he roared. "Ride! If we can but keep them in view, we will be able to pick up their trail."

"That is not your task, sire," said a voice, and he turned, his sword whipping out of its scabbard angrily, but he paused as he stared at the orc that had come upon his orc band.

The orc was large, almost as large as Azog, yet was clearly of different kin. It's skin more black than green, stoop-shouldered, with a more malformed head, it's ears small and shrunken. It wore a cloak of fur around its shoulders. And had a red painted line flowing down its bald head and down onto its nose.

For all that it was alone among orcs of a different breed, the orc, which must have been created in the halls of Dol Guldur, met Azog's glare fiercely. "You have been summoned by the master. He needs his general of the armies. No more can you spend your time on this private pursuit."

Azog glared, and finally, the orc began to look nervous, shivering and looking away bowing his head obsequiously. That was both its first mistake, showing weakness, and not enough. The other orc had dared to give Azog such bald-faced orders in front of his band. There could be only one response.

In an eyeblink, Azog moved his own wolf over to the other orc's, who before he could realize Azog had moved, lost his head in a spray of blood.

Kicking the thing's body off of his warg, Azog snarled, pulling at the fur of his own animal and staring out into the distance. But despite the violence of the way he killed the messenger, Azog could not ignore the message itself. If the master summoned him, only a fool would disobey. Even if you ignored the fact that his own men would instantly turn on him for ignoring their master, the Dread One had ways of reaching you, and Azog would not dare his wrath.

But Azog could not give up the chase. He could not give up the chase for the dwarf who had taken his hand, routed his armies, and lived now after insulting his courage. But he could delegate it to one he trusted. So he turned, roaring out a command. "Bolg!"

One of his orcs, taller than the others and built along the same, nearly-human lines of himself with none of the deformities of the others, pushed his warg forward. The two wargs instantly started snarling at one another, while Azog and Bolg glared. After a moment, Bolg bowed his head, just slightly, enough to show subservience.

Azog nodded. "Bolg. I will take but three with me to answer this summons. The rest of my hunting band is yours. Bring me the head of Thorin Oakenshield. Kill his companions, in particular, the human, the short creature, and the cursed wizard most of all."

The other orc nodded, slamming his fist into his chest with enough force to kill a less creature. "As you command Azog."

Azog smiled, turning away, shouting four other names. Then he and his companions were away, heading south through the Misty mountains. Their destination, the dread fortress of Dol Guldur, home to the being known as the Necromancer. But who Azog and all things evil knew, as Sauron, the Master.

OOOOOOO

"And where exactly have your friends dropped us off?" Thorin asked, frowning as he looked around the large stone weir they had been dropped on. It jutted out from the riverbed into the same river, the Anduin, which had created the canyon they had been near the top of. The tall stone, which was about three stories tall, looked almost like it had been worked by hand in places. Steps lead down from the top, large steps, crude steps, but steps, nonetheless. Its top was smoothed bare, with a tiny dip to the rock like something large and heavy had rested there long enough to warp the stone under it. This made for an easy landing for the eagles one after another as they dropped off their precious burden.

Gandalf looked down at Harry, who was still unconscious, shaking his head slightly at what he sensed there, but he could not concentrate on it over long, not with Thorin beside him looking anxious. "This is called the Carrock, and it is a demarcation line of sorts between that of the goblins and that of an enemy of theirs. We are about a half day's ride away from the westernmost border of the forest of Mirkwood Thorin. Our friends here have shaved off whole weeks of our journey in but an evening's flight."

Thorin had been trying to ignore the giant Eagle that had landed after the last dwarf had been unloaded, the same one that had been carrying Gandalf earlier. Thorin was a dwarf, he was used to feeling short to other sentient beings. What he was not used to feeling like was a mouse in front of a predator, and when those beady eyes looked at you, that was the feeling Thorin got.

Nonetheless, he could not deny that Gandalf's mad scheme had worked. Indeed it had put them beyond all possible pursuit. "I thank you, Gwaihir the Wind Lord," he said in his most formal diplomatic tones. "If ever you are people should need aid, they will find a safe eerie on the Misty Mountain."

The Eagle smiled thinly, a bare movement of its lower beak. "You are counting your nests before they are created young dwarf," he replied in Quenya, which the dwarves, like all good creatures, could understand. "And yet, I see a fire in you. A fire to see this thing done. Just make sure, that you are not consumed by the fire of he who sleeps within the mountain."

With that and a final look at Gandalf and a deep bow, Gwaihir flapped his wings. So powerful was it that he nearly drove the dwarves to their knees, some of them actually stumbling to their rears, along with Bilbo. Then he was in the air, flapping to gain altitude and away.

"Tell me Gandalf," Bilbo said in a dry tone as he tried to collect his scattered wits, pushing to his suddenly wobbly feet. "Do all wizards keep such company, or is it just you?"

"I have always had an affinity with the birds of the air my young friend, just like Radagast has with the beasts of the fields and the forest. Saruman is the only one of us who does not get along with animals of any kind, although he does get along well with trees and plants and is very interested in the workings of his hands. As an architect and builder, he has no equal.

Thorin shrugged. "Would he be able to design a fortress that was dragon proof?"

"No person still living on Middle Earth could do that, save perhaps the darkness that was Sauron."

From where he stood at the top of the staircase, Dwalin asked, "So where to from here? I don't see any sign of the road."

Indeed you will not. "We are still somewhat near former goblin territory, although if it will remain goblin territory now that their nearest fastness has been so decimated, I cannot tell you. Still, we are in the lands of, if not an ally to me, then certainly an ally to Radagast, who has spoken of him often. I can only hope," he said looking at them all worriedly scratching at his scraggly beard, that Beorn is in a welcoming mood."

"That does not fill me with confidence," Thorin drawled, gesturing his dwarves down the stairs.

"It shouldn't" Gandalf replied simply. "This fellow is a man of uncertain tempers." As he started his own way down the stairs Gandalf thought, staring around at them. "I believe that we are within an hour's distance from his house or so. Let us go but when we get there, I will introduce you a few at a time, in order to get him acquainted with you all. It will be best that way, so as to not shock him. I will take Bilbo with me first, so as to appear the least threatening we can be."

"Again, this does not fill me with confidence," Thorin replied, pulling at his beard. "Still, you got us this far," he added somewhat involuntarily. "I will trust you again Gandalf."

Gandalf smiled. "That is uncommonly wise of you."

Thorin just rolled his eyes made a get on with it gesture. With a wry chuckle, Gandalf hopped nimbly down the steps, showing get again that he was not the old man he seemed, gesturing the dwarves after him.

Bilbo looked over at Bombur, the closest dwarf to him as he followed the others down the crude steps. "What do you suppose this man will be like if his temper is such that it worries Gandalf?"

"Your idea is as good as mine Bilbo," Bombur replied, slapping him on the back. "Still, I wager with you and Gandalf as our first representatives, you'll at least be able to get a toe in the doorway."

Bilbo shrugged. "I wish I still had my waistcoat one needs the proper clothing to well to appear respectable. Bombur laughed, and the others around him laughed including Bilbo, as they moved after the wizard.

End Chapter

See what I mean by not being the full chapter I wanted it to be? Ugh. I thought I'd have all week off to work on this, but noooo family matters had to get in the way. Anyway, I have most of the next chapter written via DNS (means I need to add "/", double-check word usage add formatting changes and so forth), so Fate Touched will still be one of the choices in the poll going forward into November and even if it only gets second place I will still update it. If you want to have more votes to spend in the small story poll or the medium story poll - normally just called large story poll, but this month that's going to be Magic of the Force so as to get rid of the semi-cliffhanger from last time and put the last big chunk of politics behind us going forward - please think about joining up over on patty on.