The Last of Her Kind (hobbit fanfic)

Into the fire

Slap!

Niatha landed with the back half of her body dangling frantically from the edge of the platform as her hind paws waved and front claws gouged deep lines in the rotting wood.

"Niatha!" Came the panicked call of the brothers. They surged forward only to be halted by her negatory roar and shaking head. She pleaded with her eyes for them to run. To get out of this cavern before the goblin king and his hordes caught up.

Finally, a single claw of her off-hind paw latched onto a splinter and used the minuscule leverage to push herself up onto the platform. Again she roared,merging the dwarves forward. At least this time they listened. In a fraction of a second their chase was back to the norm-with Gandalf in the lead, dwarves in the middle fighting off attackers and and Niatha at the back, protecting the rear.

The group skidded to a halt behind Gandalf so suddenly that the tigress nearly bowled them over, then realised the splintering of boards was not just the regular creaking of poor craftsmanship. The Great Goblin burst from beneath the boards, fat jiggling with globular pustules all but shading in the more hidden areas of his grotesque form.

Ignoring what the Great Goblin was shearing at Gandalf and the dwarves, Niatha focused on the surroundings: slanted cavern walls on either side and a shear drop below. Soon enough, Gandalf sliced the monster's belly and slit his throat, and, with a few final words, he collapsed through the wooden boards. The framework was shattered. Without even time to realise their predicament, the party was plunged into a thundering descent into the dark abyss.

Niatha-whose back still throbbed and secreted a steady flow of sticky blood-dug her long silver claws inches deep into the wood in the fruitless attempt to cling on.

Crash!

The platform smashed to the ground after the slowing power of scraping down a narrow passage. Even then, the force of the impact threw the tigress to hit the rocky walls and let out an agonised whimper before sinking to lie helplessly on the ground with large wooden splinters beneath each talon. Her breathing was rapid and shallow with labour.

"Well, that could've been worse," said the ever-optimistic Bofur.

Niatha's breath fluctuated in laborious laughter as she smelt the falling carcus of the Great Goblin. It landed right on top of them, leaving grumbling, groaning and grunting to follow each dwarf.

"You've got to be joking!" Moaned Dwalin as the dwarves each extricated themselves from the rubble and avoided the debris all around it.

Before any of the dwarves, Niatha hear the clamouring of thousands of goblins speeding down the slopes with a thirst for blood. She doubted they care what vintage they craved but it was definitely not safe to remain in their current position.

Shakily, the Skinchanger pulled her self to her feet, leaving a patch of dark red on the rock where she'd lain.

"Gandalf!" Kili finally warned.

"There's too many, we can't fight them."

Gandalf turned to the company with wild eyes behind his bushy, unkempt brows. "Only one thing will save us: daylight! Come on! Here, on your feet!"

Following Gandalf, the dwarves and Niatha bolted for the freedom of the sun.

The soothing rays of sunlight drifted onto Niatha's shredded back as they burst into the day and kept running until the relative safe distance of a few yards beyond the edge of a cliff. There, she collapsed into a broken heap on the rocky shrubbery and began and unusually lengthy shift back into human form. Luckily Radagast's gift left her with her shirt and trousers and weapons just beside her, on the rocks, but the back of the shirt was soon awash with crimson.