I'm Staying With You (A Hobbit Fanfiction)

Chapter 18

Bilbo slowly unsheathes the sword, making the blue light more prominent. I hear sand falling, and I see a crack growing in the floor.

I stand up in an instant and so does Thorin.

"Wake up! Wake up!" he yells.

The floor begins to reveal traps, and everyone starts falling into them, Bofur going first. We land in a massive slide type thing made of rock, and we tumble and slide before landing in a cage of bones.

"Oww," I moan. I landed directly on top of Gloin, and he groans.

I don't have a chance to stand before a crowd of goblins run at us and start shuffling us around. I try to grab my axe, but they quickly discard it with everyone else's weapons.

At least they don't know how many knives I carry with me all the time.

Everyone is yelling at the goblins and shoving them, but nothing is working. We're soon overpowered and led away. We're probably being taken to their king so he can decide how to kill us.

"Get off of me!" Dwalin yells, shoving a goblin.

"Get away!" I snarl as a goblin pushes me.

I look around at my kin and count. All together, we have 14 people.

We're supposed to have 15.

I look around, counting sibling groups. That's when I realize who's missing.

Bilbo. Of course. That sneaky hobbit got away.

I can't help but grin. Maybe he'll get help.

The goblin shoves me again and I spin around and punch it in the face. It falls backwards into a crowd of goblins behind it, and some of the other dwarves stare at me.

"Did you just..." Nori begins.

"Yes I did," I reply before he can finish.

The goblins snarl angrily at me and four of them grab me while the others get led on ahead. They drag me behind the others, making sure none of my limbs can be used in injuring them.

The tunnels and bridges we are led across are crowded and smell of rotting flesh and, well, goblin. When you add that and the fact that I couldn't defend myself together, you can pretty much say that this has not been a fun day.

Then when we see the king.

He's an obese goblin with a massive, fatty double chin. His hair is stringy and his throne is made of bones. Goblins stand at the sidelines, jeering at us.

The goblins toss our weapons into a pile, and the goblin king uses a footstool made of his own people to step down towards us.

"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?" he asks. "Spies? Thieves? Assassins?!"

"Dwarves, Your Malevolence," says a goblin. I've been brought to the front of the pack, and I stand in between Fili and Kili. We stare straight ahead, our eyes narrow with hatred.

"Dwarves?" the king asks.

"We found them on the front porch."

"Well, don't just stand there! Search them!"

The goblins swarm us again, and I do my best to keep them away.

"Every crack, every crevice!" the King demands.

Once the goblins are done, the King snarls at us.

"What are you doing in these parts? Speak!"

All of us stand there in dead silence, staring straight at the King.

"Very well. If they will not talk, we'll make them squawk! Bring up the mangler! Bring up the bone-breaker! Start with the youngest!" The King yells. The crowd is very thrilled about this, and everyone looks at me.

I'm the youngest by a couple months. The dwarf king points at me, and my eyes widen.

"It's even a girl! Even better to kill first!" The King laughs.

"Wait!" Thorin yells. I sigh in relief, glad to live maybe a couple more hours.

"Well, well, well!" The King says, an ugly smile on his face. "Look who it is. Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain."

The Goblin king does a mock bow, and all the goblins laugh. The goblin king continues on with his mocking.

"Oh, but I'm forgetting, you don't have a mountain. And you're not a king which makes you nobody, really."

"Shut up!" Fili yells.

"Stop, Fili," Thorin demands. He turns to the goblin king, who looks straight at him.

"I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just a head. Nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak. And old enemy of yours," he says.

Thorin glares at him, and the King continues talking.

"A pale Orc, astride a white Warg."

"Azog the Defiler was destroyed," Thorin growls. "He was slain in battle long ago."

"So you think his defiling days are done, do you?" the king asks. He chuckles and turns to his messenger goblin. "Send word to the pale Orc. Tell him I have found his prize."

We stare at him, our faces in shock. How can Azog be alive?! Thorin killed him!