The White Rider (Thorin Oakenshield)

Chapter Six: Goblins and Orcs

They were falling and falling, until they landed in some kind of cage, made of bones.

"Adelaide?!" Thorin called, looking amongst the heap of dwarves.

She was buried beneath Bombur and Dwalin. Not the smallest of dwarves. Thorin spotted her hand waving.

"For the love of Durin, get off of me!" He heard her whine. The two dwarves rolled off of her, and Thorin tugged her to her feet. She thanked him, and adjusted her hood, hiding her face again.

"Goblins!" Fili shouted, drawing his sword.

They fought off as many of the ghastly creatures as they could, to no use. Adelaide looked back, only to see Bilbo on his hands and knees. She smiled to herself. He would get out okay.

The company was lead to a platform where a huge lump of something ugly was sitting on a throne made from skin and bones.

"Who dares enter my domain armed? Theives? Assassins?" The lump questioned, eyeing the company. Oh, I would love to assassinate you, Adelaide thought, smirking faintly.

"Dwarves, Sire," one goblin said.

Adelaide's eyes widened. The Goblin King. The last time she had run into him, she had given him that nasty scar across his face. Something to remember me by, she thought to herself.

She watched uneasily as the Goblin King's eyes roamed over the company, an awful smirk on his ugly-as-hell face. His gaze landed on her white hood, and she tensed, swallowing hard.

"What is this?" The Goblin King stepped down from his throne. "The White Rider in my domain, yet again?"

Adelaide ignored the curious stares of the dwarves.

"Search him for weapons, and bring him forward."

She was pushed to her knees in front of the King, and Thorin gulped nervously, eyeing the Goblin King warily.

"Not so High and Mighty now, are you?" The Goblin King taunted. "Why don't we take a peek under that hood of yours. Azog would love a face to put to your name!"

Adelaide squirmed desperately, trying to get away, but the goblins held her tightly, grinning maliciously. Their King pushed the hood back.

"A woman!" He exclaimed. He grabbed her face with his hands, and tilted her head back. "A pretty little thing, too."

Thorin growled.

"Tie her up!" The Goblin King commanded, smirking.

Thorin pushed forward. "Stop!" He commanded.

The Goblin King turned to a Goblin hanging by a rope, smirking at Thorin. "Send word to the Pale Orc. I have both his prizes."

"It can't be!" Thorin said. "Azog is dead!"

The Goblin King smirked down at him. "Well, if it isn't Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. King Under the Mountain! Wait! I'm forgetting something! You don't have a mountain, which means you aren't a king, so you're a nobody, really."

"Shut up!" Adelaide roared, as she was hung by her wrists. "Thorin is a great king! He is a better king than you could ever dream of being!"

Rage shook the Goblin King. "How dare you! You insolent little bitch!"

A goblin took Thorin's sword from the pile, and pulled it a bit from it's sheath. He dropped it, shrieking, and scrambled away from it.

The Goblin King climbed onto his throne in a cowardly fashion, frightened, and pointed a finger at the sword. "I know that sword! It sliced a thousand necks! The Goblin Cleaver! Kill them! Kill them all!"