"Thorin?" Dwalin called after following a few drops of blood into the gallery of kings. Thorin sat on his knees in the middle of the golden floor which had blood scattered over it, staring down at his reflection. "Thorin, what did you do?"

"She betrayed us..." Thorin muttered. "She betrayed me!" He balled his fists.

"What are you talking about? She was our friend!"

"She said...that if she had found the Arkenstone....that she would not give it to me..." He slowly stood.

"Maybe that would have been for the best." Dwalin replied angrily. "Do you not see what you are becoming? What that stone has turned you into?"

'This gold has warped you into a monster, Thorin.' Agarwaen's words bounced around in his head. 'It's driving you mad!'

"No!" Thorin shouted as he turned to face Dwalin. "That elf is no friend of mine. She is a filthy traitor!" Dwalin shook his head in disbelief. "She is lucky I did not end her life right here." Thorin then stalked off past the other dwarf, wondering why he didn't kill her, for his reasons were now forgotten amidst the greed.

He did not remember looking upon her pleading face, and remembering how he'd promised multiple times that he would not allow harm to befall her. He forgot how he realized that she said what she did out of love. He forgot that in that moment, his sword poised to strike, he realized that he could not kill her because he cared too much for her.

Gandalf and Bilbo eventually left the tent, and Thranduil gave an order to another elf to find some more suitable armor for Agarwaen. The elf, Rhosgnir, one of her old friends from the guard, led her to where extra armor was being kept.

"Why are you not dead?" He asked bluntly.

"I'm a dead woman walking." She responded. "I've promised Thranduil my head after all this is over." Rhosgnir stopped and turned to her.

"You make no sense. What happened to you?"

"There is another army, an army of orcs coming from Dol Guldur. I am joining your side only to protect the mountain and the dwarves inside."

"If there was such an army, my king would have informed the ranks by now."

"He does not believe us, but I tell you, it is the truth." She said firmly, and he began walking again before stopping another elf who walked among the crowds. "Send a healer to the armory." He ordered before continuing on.

"What happened to your face?"

"That's for me to know." She ended the conversation and they continued to the armory where she was given a new breastplate, chainmail, cuirass, bracers, boots, faulds, helmet, cape, pauldrons, and elven robes.

"She tossed the cape and robes aside, not caring for them as they were mostly present for style. After shedding her bloodied, ill-fitting dwarven armor, the healer finally arrived and as reluctant as she was, Agarwaen had to let her tend to her face.

"This was made by a sword." The healer muttered questioningly. Agarwaen stared ahead and did not answer. She wanted nothing to do with these elves, but had little choice in the matter.

"How long for it to heal?" Agarwaen finally spoke as the healer dumped out the bloodied herb water she'd brought and wrung out the reddened cloth.

"A week or so. But it will likely be longer if you move your face too much."

"So two weeks, then. Hannon allen." The woman nodded and left.

"You were never much of a healer." Rhosgnir commented as he leaned against the post of the tent.

"That hasn't changed, obviously." She slipped the chainmail and cuirass on, and Rhosgnir tightened the straps.

"Are you sure you don't want the clothes? These smell of dwarf." He looked at her dwarven tunic and pants. The thought that she smelled like dwarf had barely even crossed her mind until now, but still she didn't mind it.

"Yes, I'm sure." She replied, stepping out of her dwarven boots, the dagger she found falling out in the process. She picked it up and tried to figure out how she could keep it on her. It wouldn't fit in elven boots as they were too tight.

"Why do you care so much for the dwarves?" Rhosgnir asked finally as she pulled the elven boots on and grabbed the breastplate.

"I care for them just as I care for any living being, immortal or not."

"I meant those dwarves." He nodded in the direction of the mountain.

"They are my friends."

"Friends don't slice your face open." He lifted the pauldrons over her head.

"Don't go there." She said darkly. "This was my fault. Never in their right mind would any of them hurt me."

"If you say so." He sighed, buckling the last strap beneath her arms before giving her the faulds, which she tightened herself.

"Here's an extra strap for that dagger." He handed her a leather strip, which she gratefully took and ran through an opening in the sheathe before strapping it about her waist.

"You'll also need these." Thranduil's voice called as he entered the tent, her old sword, daggers, bow, and quiver in hand.

"You return these, why?" She asked, taking them from him.

"So that I need not spare you the weapons of my ranks." He replied, an annoyed look on his face.

"You have my thanks all the same." She strapped them on, and grabbed her helmet, but did not yet put it on. She'd always hated helmets and would choose not to wear them if she could. They got warm, blocked her vision, and were just overall quite annoying.

"If you joining us is some ploy to slay my army in the night..."

"It is not." She responded firmly. "I am not a murderer. What happened all those years ago was an accident. I do not care if you believe me or not, but that is the truth." She told him, trying to convince herself of that fact too. Thranduil just stared emotionlessly at her before turning and leaving without another word. Agarwaen then turned to Rhosgnir.

"Thank you for your help. I shall see you in battle on the morrow." He nodded to her, and they parted ways, him to return to his duties, and her to try and find Gandalf.

When she found the wizard, he was seated at the outskirts of the town, smoking his pipe.

"Gandalf?" She asked. He looked up at her and motioned for her to sit beside him, but she refused, as sitting in armor is not very comfortable.

"How did you get away?" He asked suddenly.

"Pardon?"

"From Thorin. Obviously, you upset him quite a bit before being banished from yet another kingdom."

"Third times the charm?" She joked.

"A dwarf king's rage is not easily escaped." Gandalf prodded.

"I don't know. I told him...I told him that the Arkenstone was driving him mad and that if I found it, I would not give it to him." Gandalf choked on his own smoke, white puffs coming out of his mouth and nose at once. "I know that was a stupid thing to do, but... I had to try and get through to him. I...Seeing him go mad, it...I can't stand by and watch it destroy him. He... they all mean too much to me."

"I've missed quite a bit, haven't I?"

"Quite a bit, yes." She smiled, the motion hurting her cheek. The sounds of men training with swords and orders being barked in the city filled the night air, giving off a feeling of dread.

"Is there any way to cure dragon sickness? Please tell me there is or someone out there knows what it is."

"I do not know. I do not think even the eldest of elves know." Gandalf shook his head. "I'm sorry." Agarwaen clenched her jaw.

"There has to be a way to get him back. He wasn't fully gone a few days ago. I'm sure of that. Maybe there's a way to pull him out before it's too late."

"Once a dwarf falls prey to it, there's never been any going back."

"But he's still in there! I know it, I saw it, I felt it. As long as that Thorin is still alive, I have to have hope. I have to."

"Agarwaen, am I missing something?"

"What do you mean?" The wizard just stared at her expectantly. "You are missing absolutely nothing." She said with a sour expression, knowing full well what he was insinuating. He just shrugged and took another breath through his pipe.

"Where's Bilbo?" She asked finally.

"Getting some rest. I've asked him not to return to the mountain."

"Good. Thorin may have spared my life, but if he finds out that Bilbo did have it..."

"My point exactly." Gandalf agreed. The rest of the night was spent telling Gandalf about the rest of the journey and of Smaug, along with him telling her of what he'd found and what was headed their way. She feared the elves would not be enough to combat Azog's forces, even if Dain's army was to arrive on time. Waiting on the edge of battle felt horrible, not because she feared death, no, her fate was already sealed anyway. It was because she feared for everyone else, especially the dwarves.

Hannon allen- Thank you