One Ring to troll them all

Gandalf

Hearing Lady Yavanna's Song so suddenly had been shocking, to say the least, and had woken emotions in Gandalf's heart that he had not remembered for what felt like an eternity.

They were dulled now, back in that place of his mind he knew was hidden from him during his days in Middle-Earth until he returned to the West, but the memory of those emotions had stayed with him.

He sighed, softly patting Gwaihir's back when his friend sent him a concerned look, and he cleared his mind of all his troubled thoughts, trying to let himself relax after everything that had happened.

He would certainly feel better once Mairon and Bilbo - if Eru was willing - returned, but now he simply watched the horizon with his old friend and thought of nothing.

With the light of dawn around them, Gandalf held onto hope and waited.

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"Run, you fools! This way! Quickly!"

The dwarves thankfully did not raise any fuss and followed after Gandalf. He was not sure they would be so amenable to following his orders if they were not being hunted by a group of particularly feral wargs and orcs.

He was too old for this.

When he convinced Thorin to reclaim the mountain from Smaug, this was not what he had imagined would happen. Then again, he had never expected Bilbo Baggins to fall down a ravine either, so maybe the universe just liked to surprise him.

He would not mind a new surprise if that was truly the case. Preferably a red one with a penchant for chaos. Eru knew they needed some of that right about now.

Gandalf looked behind them and warily watched the party of orcs gradually getting closer to Thorin's Company. They were still far, but it would not take much more time for them to catch up.

He knew the dwarves would not last much longer, for dwarves were not prepared to cover such long distances. Already he could see some of them lagging behind, and he quickly took the rear to avoid any tragedies.

They needed to hurry and find cover, or the dwarves would be captured, sooner rather than later.

Then Gandalf caught sight of something that gave him hope. It was a high thorn-hedge with a wooden gate, high and broad, beyond which he could see gardens and a cluster of low wooden buildings, some thatched and made of unshaped logs: barns, stables, sheds, and a long low wooden house.

If his dear friend Radagast's words were to be believed, there was only one person who could be the master of that place. And that was Beorn, a powerful skin-changer. A man who could turn into a bear and back into a man again, one whom Gandalf had never met personally but knew of.

An unlikely and doubtful ally, but a possible ally, nonetheless. And they all knew they were short on that front.

They really needed all the help they could get, and if there was a possibility, however small, for Beorn to help the Company - even if he was said to hate dwarves - then Gandalf would take it.

Hopefully, he was making the right choice. If not... well, it's not like they would be around to regret it, now, would they?

A thunderous roar sounded, and the dwarves all stopped in shock at the sound.

"What was that?" Ori gasped, tightly clutching his axe.

Thorin and Dwalin looked alert, warily watching their surroundings for any attacks.

There was another roar, and Gandalf tried not to stiffen as the figure of a humongous beast appeared between the trees, standing atop a great rock while it roared its rage to the heavens.