As Oin and his compatriots raced through the midnight dark halls of Moria, he found himself wishing (not for the first time) that the legend about dwarf-men was true. That instead of being born of dwarf-women, they were born of stone. If that was true, maybe then he would not be caught up in this last desperate attempt to escape the disaster of Moria.
Now he led a small band toward the Hollin Gate. Balin had mentioned before his death that it might be possible to exit Moria that way if it ever became necessary. Now it was most definitely necessary. The remaining members of the expedition were increasingly isolated on only one or two levels near the Chamber of Mazarbul. The orcs drew closer every day, and Oin was determined to find a way out before it was too late.
After two days of running, they seemed to have lost the last of the orcs. Their path now worked steadily downward. Finally they ran out into a much broader hall than before. When they reached the end, they found a grand staircase that descended into a blank wall.
'This must be it!' Oin exclaimed. 'There is no other reason for these stairs to face nothing but a wall.' The little group raced down the stairs. 'Light some more torches!'
Torches lit, they examined the wall. 'Everyone put your hands on it and push. If Balin was right, it should open under the gentlest of pressure.'
It didn't even take all the dwarves. Once the first two began to lean against the wall, they felt it begin to give. Slowly two massive slabs of gray began to separate. A thin line of bright sunlight streamed into the darkness of Moria.
'You did it, Oin, you did it!' Trog cried.
'No, Trog, we did it!' Oin exclaimed as he slapped backs and knocked heads. Hope bloomed for the first time in weeks. Maybe there was escape from this horrible place after all.
A little more pushing and the doors were open fully. Groans of disappointment echoed back up the hall as the dwarves looked out. It was a beautiful summer day. The sun shone and the air was pleasantly warm. However, the path to freedom was blocked by a pool of water that came almost to the very edge of the door. The water moved sluggishly and made an unpleasant gurgling sound against a very narrow line of pebbles.
'We're still trapped,' the young Trog wailed.
Oin looked at him and shook his head in mock dismay. 'Trapped? What makes you think we are trapped?'
'The water. How are we going to get past that? I can't swim,' Trog moaned. The other dwarves nodded in agreement.
'You give up too easily, youngster,' Oin laughed. 'Have you never heard of boats? I know most dwarves have little to do with them, but one does what one must do. We will find some boards and build a raft or two. They need not be elaborate; just something to get us to the far shore.'
As he spoke he walked out onto the little bit of beach that remained. Even though he was a dwarf and usually reveled in life underground, the sun felt good on his face and lifted his spirits. After a few moments, he turned back to the darkness of the mountain. 'Come now, no delays. Let's get some wood and see if my idea will…'
No one had noticed the thin line of bubbles that cut across the water heading straight for the shore. As his troop watched in horror, the surface of the pool suddenly exploded upward and a tangle of tentacles reached out and grabbed their leader.
They say that when you die, your life flashes before your eyes. Cliché it may be, but it was true for Oin. He went from the joy of a chance at freedom to fighting for his life in the briefest of moments. He struggled frantically against the pull of the massive arms. As his head went under the first time, he thought of his mother. She was probably the main reason he was dying now. If not for her, he doubted his road would have led to this place, this point in time, this horrible fate. Would he drown, be torn apart, or eaten by this hideous beast? Perhaps all three. They always say things come in threes.
If not for dwarf-women, he most likely would not be here. He would be safe and sound in the Blue Mountains; a lot poorer but infinitely happier.
It had started with his mother. Although he was the older son, Oin could never seem to gain the love which most first born seem to achieve simply by order of birth. No, it was his younger brother Gloin who was the gem in their amad's eye. As he squirmed futilely, he couldn't help thinking of what his amad would say if she could see him now.
'Why did you go on such a reckless adventure? And Moria no less. You already had all the gold you needed in Erebor. You don't see Gloin doing anything so foolish,' this despite the fact that it had been Gloin's idea to join Thorin's expedition.
In his younger days it had been: 'You should be more like your brother, Oin. Look at all Gloin has accomplished; trader, husband, father. He is everything a good dwarf should be and so much younger!'
Trying to be as good as his little brother had led him to join the Erebor expedition. He hadn't really wanted to go. He was content in the Blue Mountains, but the thought of Gloin returning in triumph pushed him to go along. And it was a good thing that he did because Smaug was defeated and Gloin did return to their amad covered in glory and gold. Only this time, Oin was with him.
It hadn't mattered. Their mother still heaped far more praise on Gloin than Oin. 'See? It is a good thing Gloin convinced you to go,' she had said.
Oin had nodded sadly and watched as his brother's wife and son engulfed him in hugs and kisses.
'Now maybe at last you will find someone to accept you and make you a father,' the nagging voice commented.
His head went under for the second time. Women; they were the bane of Oin's existence! Now a wealthy dwarf, he returned to Erebor to do just that, but it was not to be. Once again it was a woman who was the cause of all the trouble.
Gelis was all that he could have wanted and more. She was a talented craftswomen, a fine nurse, and had a beard that all admired. Gelis' hands were strong, firm and shapely. He could easily see her sharing his life and treasure for the rest of his days.
He had almost worked up the courage to speak when his world was turned upside down. Sitting in a small nook one day taking a much needed break, Gelis and a friend walked nearby unaware of his presence. They paused and he tried not to listen to their conversation, but when he heard his name, he couldn't help himself.
'So, Loral, have you picked a likely candidate? There are certainly a lot of fine dwarf specimens to choose from,' Gelis said.
'There is no rush. More dwarf-men arrive every week. I would hate to miss out on someone by acting too quickly. What about you? Oin certainly has his eye on you. What about him? He is one of the original Company and quite wealthy, or so they say.'
If Oin hadn't been listening before, he was glued to the conversation now.
'Oin?' Gelis tittered, 'No, not Oin. Have you seen that beard of his? Not at all my style. Now if his brother Gloin were ever available, then we might have something to talk about! That's what I'm looking for.'
The women moved out of his hearing without ever knowing they had been overheard. Oin ground his teeth in frustration. Gloin! Always it was Gloin who topped him in everything! Oin's stomach churned with jealously and rage. He did not blame his brother, but he couldn't help but feel second-best yet again. Erebor was ruined for him now. There was no way he could stay knowing the woman he loved desired his brother more than he!
Even as the thought arose he remembered Balin. Almost a year ago, Oin had refused to join Balin's expedition to Moria. At the time, it had seemed a dangerous venture not worth the risk. Now he left his nook to find his old friend and find out if it was too late to enlist.
No it hadn't been too late, Oin thought sadly. If it had been, he wouldn't be here now in the grasp of this cursed beast. His strength drained away and Oin ceased to fight. His head went under for the third and final time. Ah well, since things seem to come in threes for me, this monster must be a woman,' he thought as his world turned black.
