“Where do you think you're going?” Bofur had been sitting doing the task he had been given. Watch duty was often a boring task, but an important one. He had slowly drifted into his own thoughts when he suddenly caught sight of Bilbo, he had packed up his things and was trying to move towards the exit.
“Back to Rivendell.” Bilbo said honestly, there was no point lying on the matter.
“No, no, no!” Bofur said while shaking his head and jumping to a stand. “You can't turn back, not now. You're part of the company! You're one of us!”
Bilbo hoisted his pack more and gave him a sad smile. “I'm not though, am I? Thorin said I should have never have come, and he's right.”
Bofur nodded quickly. “You're homesick, I understand.”
“No you don't! You don't understand, none of you do, you're Dwarves! You're used to this life, to living on the road, never settling in one place, not belonging anywhere!” Bilbo said in rushed emotions. “I am so sorry,” he caught himself and realized what he had just spoken.
“You're right,” Bofur said looking saddened. Not by Bilbo's words, though yes, they hurt, but by the honest truth. “You're right, we don't belong anywhere.” He paused. “I wish you all the luck in the world. I really do.” Bofur said while patting Bilbo on the shoulder. He smiled lightly, gave a small nod and turned to leave only to get stopped by Bofur. “What's that?” Both looked down to Bilbo's sword which was starting to glow a faint blue.
Reaching down, Bilbo unsheathed it and saw the blue glow had grown. He looked it over, enemies were nearby, that's what this meant.
“Wake up!” Thorin shouted suddenly, he had been awake through all of their words and had heard every single thing. It was only because he was awake that he had seen a crack appear suddenly in the cave. He pushed himself to sit and reached down to shake Náriel by her shoulders, she wasn't too pleased with the sudden wake up call but she had little time to comment before finding herself falling downwards.
Much like her, everyone was trying to wake themselves up just as the ground split and seemed to tip. Being suddenly at a tilt, everyone started to slide further down into the cavern, to a place where none of them had found when previously exploring. The tumbling was very confusing, and somewhat painful. The chute they all found themselves falling down caused them on more than one occasion to bump and hit into each other.
The falling sensation soon stopped and what replaced it was a painful landing on a rough iron and wooden platform. Even as everyone was still falling in a rather ungraceful heap, the distant shouts could be heard, along with pattering footsteps.
Goblins. Squat Goblins with prodding fingers and grasping hands soon surrounded them. Shouting and trying to kick them away, the group had little luck. More Goblins swarmed them from behind from climbing up the cliff which the platform was on.
The group had just become prisoners to this group of Goblins who wasted no time in hauling them forwards and pushing them to walk along rickety looking bridges. All around them a city appeared. And from this city more and more Goblins appeared, shouting and laughing at the prisoners which were being pushed and pulled this way and that.
The orange lantern light which littered the vast cavernous space did really nothing for it all. It fought away the impeding darkness which would naturally be in the cave, though the light also picked up every detail. And most of the details were not a pleasant sight to see.
Exclaiming and being disarmed, the company had little choice but to except this. They watched as their weapons were unkindly thrown into a pile in front of the Great Goblin which was sitting on what seemed to be some sort of throne.
“Who would be so bold as to come armed to my kingdom? Spies? Thieves? Assassins?” The accusing words were shot down by the Great Goblin. Who sat on his throne peering down at them with curiously sceptical looks. His great form swayed from side to side while waiting for someone to answer.
“Dwarves, your Malevolence.” One Goblin said surely while looking over to the seated Goblin.
Náriel merely raised an eyebrow at the seemingly sheer stupidity of the Goblins around them. How they mistook her for a Dwarf she had no idea. Though she figured things probably wouldn't go well if they discovered she was an Elf.
“Dwarves?!” Came the outstanding exclamation.
“Found them on the front porch,” the Goblin from earlier on furthered to say while waving a gnarled finger their way.
“Well don't just stand there, search them!” A greedy expression flitted onto the Great Goblin's face as he waved a huge arm down at the surrounding group in front of him. The Goblin's wasted no time in following through with this order. Was it not enough that they had all been disarmed?
“What are you doing in these parts? Speak!” All that came from this ordered question was silence. None of them wished to voice what their business was. Upon seeing this bloodshot eyes were cast down at them as the Great Goblin stepped from his throne and lifted his great arms up into the air addressing his subjects. “If they will not talk, we'll make them squawk! Bring up the mangler, bring up the bone breaker! Start with the youngest.” At this he pointed a finger straight in Ori's direction, who gulped and looked wide eyed with fright.
“Wait!” Thorin exclaimed, he wasn't going to put anyone in harms way. If this creature wanted an explanation then it was rightly his place to give him one. He slowly pushed past his comrades until he was standing at the front.
“Oh, well, well, well, look who it is!” Came the somewhat jibbing words. “Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain.” With odd grace the Great Goblin gave a strange bow and then looked down at Thorin. “Oh. But I am forgetting, you don't have a mountain, and you're not a king.” He said while laying on the patronising tone in his voice. “Which makes you nobody, really. I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just your head, nothing else. Perhaps you know of whom I speak of, an old enemy of yours. A Pale Orc who rides a white Warg.” While he spoke, Thorin just stared up at him defiantly. The Great Goblin just gave a sigh and shook his head slowly. The Goblins who were surrounding them chattered, and giggled over their leader's words.
Thorin's gaze looked downwards before firmly staring up at the being before him. “Azog the Defiler was destroyed. He was slain in battle long ago.” He said seriously while not moving his gaze from the Great Goblin in front of him.
He in turn looked slightly amused and leant forwards. “So you think his defiling days are done, do you?” He turned away then and with heavy footsteps walked over to a small Goblin sitting on a swing like device. He whipped out a quill and a piece of curled dirty looking paper. “Send word to the Pale Orc, tell him I have found his prize.” He said lowly and watched as the scribe slowly sailed off down a rope line.
(A/N: I have to openly admit, seeing Thorin get called 'nobody' partially broke my heart...just for that, the Great Goblin deserved to die xD forget all the other crap, this is the main reason why he had to go! xD)
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Calm The Fire (UNDER EDITING)Fanfiction
It is a little known fact that Thorin had come to dislike the race of elves; but perhaps it hasn't always been this way, maybe, just maybe, once upon a time there wasn't such high disdain held towards them. The dwarf-Prince's heart isn't as nearly a...