Hi there, Me the Awesome here! This was written a few weeks ago for a school project when we were reading The Hobbit in class for Novel Study. I really hate Thorin (and the book in general, no offence), so this is sort of my revenge. This is my first fanfiction for LotR, and I have no idea what the expectations of the readers are here, so please don't hate me if it sucks or anything. But flames are grudgingly accepted :)
Also, this should be inserted after Thorin walls himself and the other dwarves into the mountain and refuses to give anyone their fair share of the deserved treasure.
Bilbo was aghast at how greedy Thorin had become. He had always acted with an air of dignified importance, which irritated many of his companions to no end. Apparently he believed that he was much greater than anyone else, and he deserved all the very best of everything.
Many of the dwarves had expressed their frustration and discontent with Thorin's forever pompous manner. Some had even suggested mutiny, but Bilbo had pacified them with the promise that Thorin would, sooner or later, come around and discover just how idiotic he had been acting, and apologize with haste.
But after spending nearly a year with Thorin, even Bilbo's patience was wearing thin, and at night he was often visited by strange disturbing visions of Thorin dying terrible deaths that were often quite gruesomely graphic.
Tonight was one of those nights.
Bilbo found himself standing in the corner of a small room caked with bloodstains. Across the room, he could see an abnormally skinny teen with twin coattails on his demented striped coat, and strange white flaps on his long boots. He was screaming at a figure in a chair.
Upon closer inspection, the figure turned out to be none other than Thorin Oakenshield. His mouth was open wide, and something shiny was glittering in it. With horror, Bilbo realized it was a knife. No not a knife, twenty knives.
Blood was dripping out of the corner's of Thorin's mouth and tears were running down his face while the skinny boy yelled at him, "YOU THOUGHT I WAS RUDE TO YOU SO YOU TOLD YOUR BOYFRIEND TO BEAT ME UP!"
Thorin probably would've looked confuse if his mouth wasn't stuffed with knives. Suddenly the boy shouted, "YOU HAVE COOTIES!" and struck Thorin in the eye with a hammer.
Then he grinned and said, "Heh… no, I just kid." Then, just as abruptly, he stabbed Thorin in the head and tore his brain out, and a glazed, thoughtful look came upon his face.
"Whoa… I guess all this excess was sort of pointless, then, wasn't it? Um, well, you better get going, it's Tuesday, and you know what that means – U.F.O.s! RUUUN!" And he high-tailed it out of there.
Quite suddenly the scene changed. Bilbo sat at the end of a long, crude table piled high with strange exotic foods he had never seen before. Around him were a host of angry-looking, brown-skinned people that were crowded around someone very familiar.
"Thorin!" he gasped. "What are you doing here? What am I doing here?"
Thorin wasn't listening. Instead he was screaming in pain, and as Bilbo watched in horror and fascination, they dumped bowls of steaming water onto Thorin's head.
One of them then proceeded to hang a red-hot hatchet onto Thorin's neck, and he screamed louder.
Bilbo wanted to look away, but found that he could not.
The men were laughing now, and one of them took out a stone knife and sliced off Thorin's lips. It was bleeding like a tomato, but apparently he was not done with him. The man took something that looked suspiciously like a fish scale and slowly sawed off each of Thorin's fingers on his left hand until it was nothing more than a bleeding chunk of flesh.
He proceeded to pull on a fingernail on Thorin's right hand until it came off, exposing the raw skin beneath. Thorin twitched in agony, but the man continued pulling out his fingernails one by one as his companions cheered him on.
Thorin looked dead, but the people had one more trick up their sleeves (so to speak). They tomahawked his head with a hatchet, splitting his scalp open, and forced sand into the wound. Thorin's body twitched one more time, then moved no more.
Once again the scene changed. This time Bilbo appeared to be in a pleasant-looking meadow with green grass and a bushy tree.
Soon a large man with a yellow beard and a helmet with two horns came strolling in, holding a large axe in one hand, someone's arm in the other. That someone was, of course, Thorin Oakenshield.
With a great slice the man sliced open Thorin's stomach, and Thorin squealed in pain. Then the man pulled out a string of pink, bloody intestines and tied it to a branch on the tree.
He pointed to the tree and commanded Thorin, "Walk."
And Thorin had no choice but to obey him. He staggered around the tree, groaning in pain as he unwound his own intestines. Finally, after struggling 'round the tree around eight times, he collapsed, his eyeballs rolled backwards, and fell onto the ground, dead.
The scene changed one last time. This time, Thorin and Bilbo were in a room together.
All seemed peaceful and still, when suddenly, hands appeared out of nowhere and began viciously tickling Thorin. He laughed deeply and tried to push the hands away, but they persisted, and soon another pair of hands joined. Then another, and yet another. Thorin was now gasping for breath, but still the hands continued, until Thorin's eyes bugged out, his face turned blue, and he died of asphyxiation.
Bilbo Baggins was ashamed to admit that, after such dreams, he often found himself much more content and happy than he had been the night before.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings, the rights belong to their respective owner(s).
Please let me know how I did so I can improve, thank you!
Also, the dialouge and setting in the first part of the torture stuff is from Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, which I do not own. It all belongs to Mr. amazing Jhonen Vasquez.