THE LAST HEIR OF ISILDUR

CHAPTER 5

꧁ Trapped ꧂

They fell for who knows how long, into a dark, stinking hole that did not bode well. After a pretty rough landing, in fact, the whole company was surrounded by goblins, grisly beings without honour, who lived in the depths of the rock and, as mercenaries, always allied with the highest bidder. Arya knew that dregs well, she had seen them helping orcs to slaughter his people in the past.

The little monsters brought the dwarves and the girl in the presence of their king, however, they missed something, a member of the company had escaped their eyes, but not to those of the young woman: Bilbo had managed to slip away.

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

The Goblin King asked with an aggressive tone, while he rose from his wooden throne, which, given its size, wasn't an easy thing.

"Dwarves, Your Malevolence, and a girl. We found them in the front porch."

One of the creatures who dragged them there replied, bowing before his master.

"Dwarves? And why would dwarves come through our caves?"

"If you want information, I'm the one you should speak to!"

Bofur stepped in, trying to save them all.

"We were on the road...well, it's not so much of a road as path. Actually, it's not even that come to think of it- it's more like a track. Anyway, the point is we were on this road, like a path, like a track, and then we weren't, which is a problem, because we were supposed to be in Dunland last Tuesday."

"...visiting distant relations!"

Dori added to it.

"Some inbreds on my mother's side."

Bofur continued, making the King so nervous.

"Shut up! If they will not talk, we'll make them squawk! Bring out the Mangler! Bring out the Bone-Breaker! Start with the girl!"

A heartbreaking laugh followed the last words of the Great Goblin, ended with the protests of the dwarves, who were struggling desperately to help their friend.
Arya was carried forward by several dirty hands and, despite her attempts to split, was bent to her knees before the King.

"Get your hands off her, you filthy worms! No! Arya!"

It didn't take long for the girl to recognize that voice, it was Fili's.

"Wait!"

Somebody else thundered behind her. The young Dwarf King stepped forward, allowing the Great Goblin to recognize him.

"Well, well, well! Look who it is. Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór! King Under the Mountain."

The beast said, performing in a ceremonious and mocking bow.

"Oh! But I'm forgetting, you don't have a mountain, and you're not a king. Which makes you... nobody, really."

Thorin, now accustomed to that kind of provocation, remained firm and impassive before that monstrosity. On him, the concerned looks of all his companions, Arya included.

"I know someone who will pay a pretty price for your head. Just a head, nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak. An old enemy of yours. A Pale Orc astride a White Warg."

Those words hit the dwarf like a blade through the chest.

"Azog the Defiler was destroyed. He was slain in battle long ago!"

He then growled.

"So you think his defiling days are done, do you?"

The Goblin King asked him boldly, then turned to his servant, leaving confusion in the mind of the young dwarf, and in that of the girl too. For Arya, in fact, it was as if an old ghost from her past had come back to haunt her: she hadn't forgotten, she would never have done it. "If Azog is still alive he will suffer his fate," she thought.