This is part 6 of my 12 Days of Christmas Tolkien fic series and the first in The Hobbit! I am woefully uninspired in that fandom, but I figured I should give it some love especially since DoS came out, so let me know how I did! This will be a mix of book- and movie-verse depending on what I can remember. :)
I know it wasn't anywhere near Yule when the Hobbits were trying to cross the Misty Mountains (has anyone noticed that any attempts to cross the Misty Mountains inevitably end with disaster and a turn of events that will wind up saving the world?), but go with it.
Goblins and Orcs are maybe the same thing. For this story, I'm going with that they are.
As a reminder, the 12 Days of Christmas fics started on December 13 (the 12 days leading up to Christmas, because I'll be skiing the day after Christmas and then going back to school :P) and will be going through Christmas Day. They are:
Day 1 (12/13): All I Want for Yuletide (Silmarillion)- I really, really wanted to write a Hobbit fic to honor DoS coming out but even though I saw the movie I don't know Thorin's Company that well and couldn't think of anything. :(
Day 2 (a day late on 12/15): The 12 Days of Christmas, Middle-earth version! (Lord of the Rings)
Day 3 (a day late on 12/16): My Revenge on the Internet, or, Fëanor Learns the Spirit of Christmas (Silmarillion)
Day 4 (on time! 12/16): The 12 Days of Christmas, First Age Version! (Silmarillion)
Day 5 (12/17): Sam's Yule Gift (Lord of the Rings)
Day 6 (12/18): The Goblins' Christmas Feast (The Hobbit- FIRST HOBBIT FIC EVER! WHOO-HOO!)
Enjoy!
The floor opened and the thirteen Dwarves and one Hobbit tumbled down, down, down into the deeps of Goblin Town. In no time at all they had been discovered and tied up neatly by the Goblins, and a small Goblin hurried away to fetch the Goblin King.
"Well, what do we have here?" the Goblin King rumbled menacingly. Then he turned to the smaller Goblin trailing him and asked, "Grishie, can you count them?"
"One- two- three- four- five- six- seven- eight- nine- ten- eleven- twelve- thirteen plus one weird little Man-thing!" recited the smaller Goblin proudly. "I did it, Daddy!"
"Now," said Bilbo, "I am not a 'weird little Man-thing', I am a Hobbit- a Baggins of Bag End!" No one paid any attention to him.
"Very good!" praised the Goblin King. "You helped to catch these, and I think you deserve an extra special Yule present: one of them to keep for your very own!"
"I get to eat the whole thing?" said Grishie in awe.
"You heard me, pond scum," affirmed the Goblin King lovingly. "And if you're really good, I might let you eat some before dinner!"
That broke the Dwarves' stupefied silence, and they burst out in protests. "I am not a Christmas present for some Goblin scum!" yelled Thorin furiously.
"Shut yer traps, Dwarf scum," snarled the Goblin King, and he turned back to Grishie and said sweetly, "Now which one do you want me to tell Father Melkor to leave under the Christmas body heap for you?"
Grishie's eyes widened at such a big treat. Examining the Dwarves closely, he pointed to Kíli and announced, "I want this one!"
"Don't you dare lay a hand on my brother!" Fíli snarled as threateningly as he could manage.
Grishie turned tearful eyes to his father. "If they're brothers, I can't just choose one and not the other and separate them like that!" he cried.
"How about you can choose that one, and the other one can be your Christmas present to Shagrat?" suggested the Goblin King.
"Did you hear that?" Grishie said excitedly to Fíli and Kíli, leaning in close to them, his face shining with excitement. Kíli growled and bit Grishie's nose.
"OWWW!" Grishie cried, running to his father. "Daddyyy, that meanie Dwarf bit me!"
The Goblin King pushed him away. "Remember what I've told you about tears," he said sternly.
Grishie took a deep breath and recited, "Orcs do not feel pain. We do not cry. We maim and murder all those who oppose us."
"That's the spirit," said the Goblin King gruffly. "How would you like to slaughter your Dwarf yourself, Prince Grishnákh?"
Grishie's eyes lit up with unadulterated delight. "Oh, Daddy!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around his father's leg. The Goblin King tried to ignore him but eventually gave in and reached down to ruffle his son's greasy, tangled hair.
"And as for the rest of you," the Goblin King proclaimed to the assembled Goblins, his arms spread wide in a gesture of generosity, "this Yule we will have a great feast of roast Dwarf!" Cheers went up and the little Goblin-children whispered in delight of what treasures from the Dwarves' pockets they might find under the Christmas body heap this year if their fathers survived the fight for the spoils.
Just when Thorin's Company could stand no more of the mortal terror and strangeness of this entire encounter, Gandalf came running through at the last moment, as usual, and saved the day, as usual.
They were all relieved. But as Bilbo ran for his life, he thought of little Grishie, potentially dead, and was almost sorry.
He was promptly cured of that feeling after he heard of Merry and Pippin's capture at the hands of the Orc-captain Grishnákh, who, it seemed, had risen high in life by taking his father's words to heart.