A Sword and A Shield [The Hobbit X OC]

15 - Under Hill

We were instantly set upon by goblins, having no time to recover. They charged at us, attacked us, climbed all over us with their murky-brown, thick, leathery, wart-covered skin. Sharp claws tipped with long, clever fingers, and also huge, bulging eyes, all the better to see in the darkness.

There were six goblins to each dwarf, at least, and two even for Bilbo; and eight went to me. No chance to draw our weapons in time before our belongings were torn from us. Then, our hands were brutally tied in front of us with thick, rough ropes.

Despite the little devils being half my size, their numbers completely overwhelmed me. I quickly found myself being yanked from the ground, restrained, and led away. "Get your hands off me!" My boot kicked one goblin clear over the edge.

Another replaced it.

Some of the dwarves shouted my name, even as they got hauled off in the same direction. And clawed and whipped and beaten.

They kicked and yelled and tried to break free, and I fought desperately to help them.

Just behind me was Bifur, who currently had two goblins snapping at his heels to keep him moving.

"Do that again and I'll split your skull!" I threatened, but my words fell on deaf ears.

I smashed my fist into a goblin's face, kicked another, and slammed my head into a third. None of my mad thrashings mattered even a little, as for every goblin that got mauled, another simply took its place. It was like facing a multi-headed dragon that could replace its heads the instant they got cut off.

A goblin climbed up my back and tugged on my hair so hard that a clump came out.

"This one's a girl," it cackled to the others.

The goblins surrounding me started pinching and clawing, their horrible fingers biting at my hips and chest.

With my rage boiling over, the nearest goblin suddenly flew ten feet into the air.

Only then did another one pinch my inner thigh, and my breast. "Sweet and soft. Ours to play, ours to eat, ours to—"

"Get off me," I snarled instinctively before whacking him over the head with bound hands. The hit possessed enough strength to crack his skull open. I was left feeling pretty satisfied, but not for long as the rest of the goblins still surrounded me.

It was deep, deep, dark, such as only goblins that have taken to living in the heart of the mountains can see through. The passages, tunnels, and bridges were crossed and tangled in all directions, but the goblins knew their way; and the way went down and down, and it was most horribly stuffy. The goblins were very rough, and pinched unmercifully, and cracked whips over our heads. They chuckled and laughed in their stony voices that echoed horribly around the narrow, labyrinthine caves.

Now, there came a glimmer of the red light before us. The goblins began to sing, or croak, keeping time with the flat of their feet on the stone, and shaking their prisoners as well.

We burst out into a vast cavern at the heart of the settlement. It was crisscrossed with haphazard bridges of rotting wooden beams, leading the way towards a great spire of rock. There were goblins lining the walkways and bridges above and around us, all of them jeering and cat-calling down at the company as we were pushed up the pinnacle of rock and the makeshift throne of wood and bone.

I noticed Thorin a bit behind me. He stared around with a look of sheer revulsion, his lip curled in disgust.

We were ushered before the throne, occupied by a giant goblin. He was vile and disgusting, the goiter on his neck swaying grotesquely as hacking coughs racked his body. His skin was covered in warts and boils, several of which had recently ruptured and were leaking foul fluid, definitely the cause of his, particularly, bad stench. He held a staff decorated with animal skulls.