Oh. My god. I love you guys so much! You have no idea how much all the support you have given me from the last chapter and all the chapters before that. Just wanted to say a massive thank you to all you amazing readers. I am so sorry it has been so long and I so I just want to reassure people that no, I'm not dead, lately my life has been a bit hectic so I haven't really had much time and I'm goi through some serious writer's block. Again, I'm sorry but I hope this chapter makes up for it. And on with the story!
-WWM
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From the entrance to the cave in which the dwarves slept, Niatha watched. They were oblivious to her presence but she was there. She was there to stand guard over them if the goblins came knocking. She was started awake by the cranking of machinery and Thorin's panicked wake-up call.
"Wake up. Wake up!" he growled. Niatha hurried to shift back to her human form and dress herself.
Bilbo pulled his sword partway out of the sheath to see it glowing an iridescent blue. But before anyone could react to the cracks now slithering through the floor, it collapsed, bringing everyone down with it. So this was the new entrance to Goblin Town. She must be mad to go back in there... Niatha jumped into the hole after them.
Niatha landed on top of the dwarves in a large wooden cage. Yes. Just how she remembered it. Struggling and scrambling to get up, no one but Niatha saw the horde of goblins descending on them until it was too late. They took their weapons so no one had the means to fight back. Harshly, the dwarves were rounded up and dragged to their feet to be led, kicking and screaming, away.
Of all the odds, Niatha got one quick glance back to see all the goblins had completely missed Bilbo. She gave him a quick, terrified look before she too was hauled away.
Somewhere on the way through the vast caverns and winding tunnels of Goblin Town, an orc had managed to slip one of the collars they'd used on her people around her neck. Whenever she struggled too much he would give it a good, hard yank to make her stop. Eventually she had to stop trying for fear he would break her neck by accident...or on purpose.
They were taken to the throne room of the Great Goblin and there, in all his horrific glory, he sat. The grim throne was decorated with the skulls of humans, beasts and some that looked halfway in between. Niatha choked on a sob as in the realisation that these were the skulls of her people, her kin had been slaughtered and hung as trophies in this orc's home. The staff he waved around as he dismounted the tall throne, trampling some of the smaller goblins, jangled with the small craniums of what looked to be half lion, half human skulls. The girl's belly convulsed in remembrance: these were the heads of her king's children, rattling around his larger one.
"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?" the Great Goblin boomed, his roles of fat jiggling with the vibration. "Spies? Thieves? Assassins?"
"Dwarves, Your Malevolence." The leader of the horde said. Thankfully, Niatha had been forced into a kneeling stance, else the goblin would all have noticed her difference in height immediately.
"Dwarves?"
"We found them on the front porch."
"Well, don't just stand there; search them! Every crack, every crevice."
The goblins immediately began searching for hidden weapons and items in all the dwaves' hidden pockets and pouches. They even seized Oin's hearing trumpet and crushed it underfoot. Soon the searchers turned their attention on the woman. They lunged at her, groping and looking for places she may have hidden weapons. One even made the mistake of 'searching' around in her chest. That was the final straw. She headbutted the orc so ferociously he fell unconscious.
"Doth odri mi, gi bedrunna!" (Get off me, you filth!) [I just made this language up (based on Welsh) because I don't think they actually made a Skinchanger language, sorry if it's rubbish] she screamed in her mother-tongue.
All went deathly silent. It was like the grave had come to haunt the goblins until a cold cackle echoed throughout the halls. "So our missing prisoner has come home at last. Tell me, Niatha, how did your brief taste of freedom feel before these dwarves had it snatched away from you?" all of the dwarves looked to her in confusion. "Please, I would very much like your opinion on the new decor. I think Skinchanger is a lovely theme."
"NO!" she sobbed, tears pouring down her cheeks. "Don't you dare speak of my people!"
Enlightenment dawned on a few of the dwarves' faces, realising what she was, who she was. Fili and Kili, however, were even more out of the shadows in now knowing the answers to the questions they had been asking themselves since the journey began. Now they knew who had enslaved her and her race, and slaughtered them. Now they knew her experiences.
"Come now deary, no need to be so hostile when your family is present."
"What are you...? Gi bedrunna!" (you filth!) Niatha wept uncontrolably when a rack of hanging skulls was lifted into view. She refused to look upon their faces, knowing it was her parents and brothers rattling beyond her closed lids.
"Look upon them!" she felt the warty, slimy hand of the Great Goblin grasping her chin and give it a firm shake. "Look upon the bones of your old people or I will kill one of your new." He meant the dwarves... The threat had Niatha sufficiently persuaded to snap open her eyes and gaze into the empty sockets of a feline skull. "Very good. Now take her back to her old cell; I rather regret killing all of them."
Niatha's brow was now soaked with sweat, it dripped into her eyes, blurring her vision of the dwarves. Only a few seemed to be trying to get at her and save her. She guessed that must be because of their knewfound knowledge of who and what she really was. After a while despair overtook her and she stopped fighting. She knew her fate was sealed. No point in failing to change it. That would only bring her more grief.
Locked in the cell she'd long ago believed she would never see again, the last Skinchanger wept for her family, for her people, for her friends and for the dwarves. Only did she stop weeping when the goblins came back for her. It seemed rather soon but who was she to question the ways of a heartless creature.
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Meanwhile, the dwarves were muttering amongst themselves about Niatha and her secret.
"What are you doing in these parts and with a Skinchanger no less? Speak!" the Great Goblin's abundance of wobbling blubber bouncing when he shouted. His warty face contorted and distorted into different faces and emotions.
None of the dwarves, however, responded. The goblin king's face twisted into something resembling rage.
"Well then, if they will not talk, we'll make them squawk. Bring out the Mangler, bring out the Bone-Breaker. Start with the Skinchanger, bring her back!" three goblins were gone to go retrieve her. Unfortunately, that was before Thorin stepped forward.
"Wait!" but it was too late, they could not hear him, only the ones who stayed could.
"Well, well, well, look who it is. Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror; King Under the Mountain." he bent in a mockingly exaggerated bow to the dwarf king. "Oh but I'm forgetting, you don't have a mountain. And you're not a king. Which makes you nobody, really"
"But you do not have a mountain either," came a weak voice from the entrance to a tunnel. It was followed swiftly by a pained cry. Everyone turned to see a beaten and bloodied version of Niatha being half carried towards them. Her clothes were ripped in multiple places and bruises covered her fair skin
"You have courage to speak so in your current position, my dear." Uncaringly, the Great Goblin reached to the side of his throne and pulled out a length of badly tanned leather with what looked suspiciously like canine teeth attached to it. Chucking it in the Niatha's direction, he waved her off.
"As I was saying before I was so rudely interupted," he sent a pointed look back at where Niatha's neck chain was now fastened to a pole "I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just the head, nothing attached." a lashing sound sliced the stale air followed by a earpiercing shriek. "Quieten down will you? I'm trying to speak here." the following lashes now only heralded muffled grunts of pain from behind a grimy rag. Thorin wanted to turn back but feared the worst for Niatha if he did. "Perhaps you know of whom I speak, an old enemy of yours... A pale orc astride a white warg." the company gasped, Thorin's mouth hung agape.
"Azog the Defiler was destroyed. He was slain in battle long ago." A bloody strip of leather sailed over his head to land back beside the throne and th muffled grunts were released to heavy pants as Niatha tried to control the agony.
"So you think his defiling days are over do you?" he cackled, "Send word to the pale orc; tell him I have found his prize."
A tiny, disfigured goblin wrote the message on a small slate before swinging off into the cavern, snickering, to deliver the message.
Finally the instruments of torture appeared along a rickety wooden walkway. They seemed rather crude but Niatha knew all too well how much pain they could really cause.
"Bring her up, let's have some fun. Let's see how they like seeing our property wrung and broken. Grinnah, stop fiddling with those swords and get her up."
But Grinnah was too mesmorised by the weapons until...he drew Orcrist's glowing blue metal. Recognising the blade, he threw it down for all the goblins to see and tumbled out of the way. The goblins howled in fear at the sight of the elven blade. The Great Goblin dashed to the 'safety' of his throne, trampling smaller orcs in his selfish flee from danger. On reaching in it, he swiveled to point an accusing finger at the blade.
"I know that sword! It is the Goblin-Cleaver, the Biter, the blade that sliced a thousand necks!" Fury engulfed the king's revolting features as he stalked towards the company. "Slash them! Beat them! Kill them! Kill them all!" Now he tromped his way to where Niatha was slumped.
Niatha could smell the foul stench of the Great Goblin burning her nostrils, nearing her, his bulbous belly hanging over a meer loincloth. He thought she was unconscious. And that was exactly where she wanted him. Off-guard. Within her mind, she pictured her animal self and held it, readying her body for an instantaneous transformation.
The goblin king was in touching distance. A chorus of swift pops and cracks occured before a massive black and silver tigeress pounced on the advancing king. Niatha raked her extracted claws down his body, leaving deep, black-blood gashes as she scrabbled over him. Leaving the Great Goblin convulsing on the ground, Niatha dropped to the floor and burst forth a mighty roar.
All attention on her, she lunged for the goblins holding Thorin down. She leapt onto their shoulders, each, in turn, was mauled, shredded or decapitated until Thorin was free. He scrambled to his feet in alarm and backed away from Niatha.
"Thorin!" Dwalin rushed up to hand him his axe and Orcrist. "Back you devil," he stood in front of Thorin, hammer raised at her. Thorin raised a hand in front of Dwalin to lower his weapon but she backed away in submission anyway and went to help Fili and Kili.
Suddenly, an explosion of searing light radiated around the cavern, sending a pulse of energy in all directions. Goblins were flung into the air and the machines destroyed. Everyone was jolted to the floor froths shock. Then, from below the platform, rose a pointed grey hat. And a wizened old face. And a tangled grey beard. Gandalf.
"Take up arms! Fight. Fight!" He bellowed. Goblins ran at him, weapons drawn and waving, but each fell to Glamdring; his elven sword.
"He wields the Foe-Hammer, the Beater, bright as daylight!" The Great Goblin shrieked in terror.
The dwarves had, by now, gathered all their weapons and began fighting with such ferocity as would make Azog wonder. Soon the goblins in the immediate vicinity were defeated and all moved their minds to more pressing issues: the way out, for instance.
"Follow me! Quick! Run!" Gandalf yelled. All followed without a moment's hesitation. They sprinted along the rickety wooden platforms, Niatha bringing up the rear, slaying any goblin that tried to sneak up on the company from behind.
"Quickly!" Encouraged Gandalf as the pelted along the suspended pathways, dodging and diving from goblin attacks.
Every dwarf, at some point, yelled a "faster! or a "hurry!" but it did nothing to hurry them; they were already fleeing at top speed.
Several goblins cut them off from the front. Dwalin's method of retaliation was to pick up a discarded pole and sweep the oncoming goblins from the bridge with it as they came. Funnily enough, the strategy worked. Soon enough they dropped the pole and rumbled onward, slaying any goblin to come at them from top, sides or even below.
Gloin whacked a goblin that got too close for comfort, sending him flying down onto another suspended pathway. At the goblin body's impact, the bridge collapsed and plummeted every goblin on it to the bottom of the dark cavern.
As Niatha bounded along behind the company, she noticed a number of ropes swinging towards them, goblins hanging to the lines. She gave a roar of warning that made dwarves turn. They acknowledged the threat and went about neutralising it (to whatever extent they could find the means to do it with).
"Cut the ropes!" Thorin bellowed.
Some of the dwarves hacked the ropes stabilising a raised pathway. It tipped and tilted and swayed until finally, it fell outward. Rather than swing to the dwarves, the goblins kept going in a full circle round the platform. They became entangled in themselves and the ropes as they too fell into the yawning chasm.
Suddenly arrows were flying from distant goblin bows. They seemed to be aiming specifically for Kili! He deflected a few with his sword but Niatha knew he could only stop so many arrows so she intervened and batted many away with her large, black paws. A sharp pain erupted in her left flank, she snarled; an Orc arrow was lodged in her thigh.
In his effort to hell their escape, Kili found a ladder and brought it down on the heads of an advancing troop of goblins. They squealed and squirmed as the dwarves pushed the imprisoned vermin over the edge. Luckily, the dwarves held onto the ladder and used it as a bridge across a missing chunk of path. Niatha, however, could not balance her padded paws on the rungs of the ladder. She stepped a hesitant foot onto one but nearly slipped through.
By now all the dwarves were across. Only Kili looked back to see what had become of Niatha.
"Stop!" He called. "Wait! Niatha is left behind!" The dwarves all skidded to a halt and looked behind to see Niatha giving them desperately wild eyes as the goblins bore down upon her side of the gap.
"Come on, Kili, we must leave now." Thorin ordered.
"But we cannot just leave her here!"
"Yes, we can. She lied to us about who she is, what she is! She is a monster!"
Kili ignored his uncle and turned back to the tigress, whose eyes were now forlorn.
"You'll have to jump!" He called over the gap.
Niatha's response was a terrified shake of the head and a few steps back.
"Kili!"
"No, uncle! We cannot leave her!"
"If she does not find a way to get across then she is doomed anyway. I will not jeopardise this quest for a monster."
"Stand back." The company backed away from the gap and looked expectantly at Niatha. She took another few steps back then darted forward, leaping over the pit like a majestic eagle.
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Thank you so much, guys. Spoiler alert! Next chapter is going to be really big! Til then, dear ones...
-WWM