It was a creature like he had never seen before. It was revolting. Its skin was a dull grey, it only had a few strands of black, slimy hair left on its head, and it had enormous feet and big blue eyes. The most disgusting thing about the creature was the rotting stench coming from its horrible mouth. Bilbo scrambled away from the creature and drew his sword. The sword was glowing an eerie, neon blue because of its proximity to goblins. The goblin that had fallen with him lay some distance away in a crumpled heap. The before him creature swayed from side to side staring menacingly at a frightened Bilbo.
"Stay back," Bilbo threatened, waving his sword.
"It's threatening us precious," the creature spat, "it thinks it can scary Gollum, ah it's foolish but what is it?"
"I'm a hobbit," Bilbo said. "I'm a hobbit named Bilbo."
"A hobbits? We like hobbits," the creature Gollum sneered. "I've never eaten a hobbits before, fish yes, but never hobbits. What do hobbitses taste like?"
"I wouldn't know," Bilbo said, utterly confused and frightened. "I'm not looking for any trouble, I just want to get out of here." The creature turned around to reveal a boney back and began retching out the name Gollum. Then abruptly it stopped, squealed with delight and jumped on the nearest rock. He twirled on the rock in joy, now Bilbo was completely dumbfounded.
"Sméagol hasn't had company in a long time, especially not a juicy, tasty hobbits before." He began singing an ear splitting song and in all the turbulence he was causing something small fell out of his pocket. It landed soundlessly just in front of the hobbit's feet. It was a thin, golden ring. In a split second, and without Gollum noticing, Bilbo picked up the ring and slipped it in his pocket.
"I'm really sorry to interrupt," Bilbo began, "but could you please direct me to the way out?"
"Ah yes we cans, can't we precious? Yes, but first hobbits must play with us a game, yes a games of riddles, or you never gets to leave." Gollum smiled a black-toothed smile, his cold eyes full with malice and intent on making sure the hobbit never left this cave.
The Goblin King, stood in the middle of the bridge, his enormous size blocking their way out. He smiled and belted out a rumbling laugh that seemed to shake the entire cave. The fragile bridged shook dangerously and all the dwarves were terrified that at any minute the ropes would break and they would all plummet to their deaths.
"Thought you could get away from the greatest king under the mountain," he snarled, strands of spit flying all over the company. From all around them goblins jumped and screeched in delight that their prey had been caught.
"How does it feel to be defeated again, Thorin Oakenshield", the King gloated with satisfaction. Nathrindal had had enough. Rolling her stunning eyes, she bent down and from her boot she took a small, ragged dagger. With immaculate precision she threw the dagger and it pierced the Goblin King's great eye. He yowled in pain and stumbled backwards and tripped over his own large repugnant feet. The impact of his tremendous weight falling on the already fragile bridge was the last straw. With a dreadful crack the rope holding the bridge snapped and the whole company fell into darkness.
Luckily the dead body of the former king softened their fall.
"Ugh, good work Nathrindal", Fili groaned sarcastically, jumping up and dusting off his clothes. Nathrindal lay on the floor, stones stabbed at her back and her head was pounding. She looked up and saw a handsome face looking down at her. Kili extended a coarse hand, which she greatly took. He smiled at her but no more words could be exchanged before Gandalf's urgent voice rang out.
"Everyone, run! Now!" Everyone looked up the steep hill where they had come from and saw a stampede of angry goblins racing down the hill, equipped for revenge, towards them. The company ran through the cave in utter darkness, using only the dim light from Gandalf's staff as guidance. They seemed to run forever, following the twists and turns of the cave until they saw a relieving slit of daylight up ahead. They ran, as fast as their exhausted legs could carry them through the caves entrance and down the following hill. While they had been trapped inside, a clouded dawn had risen, grey wisps of cloud covering a beautiful sunrise. The cold bit at their faces and turned their noses red. Finally, when they knew the goblins wouldn't venture this far out into daylight, they stopped to respite. Coughing and panting, Bombur, Gloin and Ori collapsed against a pine tree's trunk, Fili and Kili sat together sipping some well deserved water while Gandalf made sure that the company was in one piece. Aznor was the first to speak.
"Bilbo!" she shrieked. Panic and fear clogged her throat and she turned an even paler white. Nathrindal raced over to her friend and clasped her delicate shoulders. "Where's Bilbo?" Aznor choked out. From behind a tree Bilbo was waiting, invisible thanks to the ring he had…borrowed from Gollum, listening but he didn't dare to speak.
"The hobbit must have abandoned us," a glum voice said. The voice belonged to Thorin, and all turned to face him. "He never wanted to come with us in the first place, and it would've been better if he'd had stayed in his cozy little hobbit hole."
"That's not fair and you know it," Aznor retorted, her cheeks getting red with rage, "something must have happened to him, he would never abandon us…we have to go find him." She added in a whisper. At that Bilbo couldn't stand it any more, with a huff he took of the ring and stepped out from hiding.
"Nope I'm here," he said in triumph. Joy overwhelmed Aznor at the sight of seeing Bilbo alive and well. Without thinking and forgetting everything the elves had ever taught her, she ran into Bilbo's arms, knocking him over in the process. Again. An embarrassed Aznor and flabbergasted Bilbo climbed back to their feet, while the rest of the company tried to contain their laughter. A smile even crept on Nathrindal's lips. But their joy did not last long, for a long forgotten enemy had finally caught up with them. At the top of the hill stood a large, rare, white Warg and on top sat its master. Azog the defiler, a gruesome hook extending from his left arm. With a mighty war cry the Wargs crashed through the trees and bushes towards them. Scrambling to their feet the dwarves followed Gandalf's lead and climbed up the nearest trees where they would be out of reach.
The Wargs were soon upon them, surrounding them and menacingly snarling at them. In the treetops the dwarves cowered, they thought doom was about to consume them. Then out of the chilly morning sky the screeching cries of eagles echoed. First they only seemed like specks in the distance but as they neared it became apparent that they were large, actually very large. The birds spread their wings and dove down towards the trees. The Wargs below barked in fury. The brown eagles swooped down and one by one collected the company and sped back up into the sky and away from danger. When everyone had securely seated on top of the great birds, they relaxed.
"I have called for help, from an old friend, we are traveling to Lothlorien, it's a long way to go," Gandalf shouted so that everyone could hear; only Dori was having a little trouble understanding. The eagles soared carelessly through the sky, their dynamic wings cutting easily through the frosty morning air. On one smaller eagle, Kili and Fili were sitting together and laughing at the day's stressful events.
"An-and did you see how the chin skin wobbled" Fili laughed in hysteria, not being able to contain himself. Kili, rummaging through his pack back, pulled out a small wooden flask and took a sip. "Now to a more serious note", Fili belched out a long burp, "what's going on with you and Nathrindal? " He wiggled his eyebrows in order to make Kili laugh. It worked. "Nothing, I swear" Kili spluttered. Fili eyed him suspiciously, clearly in doubt. "Look nothing is going on, and if anything was going on…the whole race thing is kind of a problem". Kili threw himself on his side in order to catch a few winks of peaceful sleep, and with that the conversation was over.
The birds flew on for days journey, yet they never seemed to tire. Slowly the day wore on. Eventually day turned to into night and the clouds shrouded the sky with an eerie, ominous blanket. Only when the moon was nearing its highest peak in the coal black sky, was it then that the birds descended into a thick, canopy, of golden rustling leaves. When the birds resurfaced under the trees, the company was introduced to the shimmering city of Lothlorien, home to the Lady of Light, Galadriel. The birds extending their talons, landed gracefully in a clearing surrounded by colossal trees. Around them stood a welcoming committee of shining and beautiful elves. Aznor scanned the faces and found two that she had longed to see since the day she and Nathrindal had left home (about two years ago). Her adoptive parents, Aznereth and Eladar, stood arm in arm, looking for the child they cherished so dearly. Aznor jumped of the eagles, which were almost four meters from the ground, and miraculously landed safely on the ground and rushed forward to reunite with her parents. Everybody else took a more sophisticated way of dismounting the eagles; they slowly climbed down carved wooden ladders.
Once they had all dismounted and stood facing the elves of Lothlorien, they could fully absorb their pristine surroundings. Giant Mallorn trees kept, during the day, the suns rays from reaching the ground, which gave Lorien the effect of being in an eternal twilight. A silver, shimmery, mist, seemed to creep through the city and the mist bounced of the elves fair and flawless skin giving them the appearance to glow. Curiously the dwarves looked around for a nice sheltered home where they could fill their empty stomachs and put their heads down, but as far as their eyes could see there were only endless tree roots. It was only when they tilted their heads up that they saw wooden staircases twisting up the trunks of the trees all the way to the tree tops where there seemed to be an actual city. The dwarves mouths gaped in awe. When suddenly trumpets sounded and echoed through the forest. The welcoming committee of elves separated down the middle to make way for two glowing figures. As they approached, the company could clearly make out the slim silhouettes of a man and a woman. When they finally stood before the dwarves, Gandalf bowed to them and the others followed in accordance. The man, who looked to be in his mid years, had dark hair and a warm, but worn face. The woman on his left was far younger and was said, by many, to be the most beautiful elf that had ever roamed the vicious lands of middle earth. Kili doubted it though; he had one other beauty in mind and cast a quick glance at Nathrindal. The elven lady had wavy, almost white hair that fell down past her shoulder, she had poisonous blue eyes and white satin skin. The man was the first to speak.
"I, Gil-Galad, son of Fingon, and the High King of the Noldor, welcome you to Lothlorien my friends" he said in a mighty but soothing voice. The ladies voice was higher and sweeter.
"And I am Lady Galadriel, Lady of Light, keeper and ruler of Lothlorien," she sang, her voice high and clear, "Mithrandir, I'm happy to see that the eagles reached you in time. I was worried when you called for my help."
" I was worried too, and I thank you for your help and compassion", Gandalf smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Well, a star shall shine on the hour of our meeting", Gil-Galad added, "I have read the stars and I know you are on a mighty quest, Thorin Oakenshield." He spoke to the dwarves directly for the first time.
"Oh, you have, well I didn't know elves could read," Thorin retorted while Gandalf shook his head. Gil-Galad brushed of this snarky comment and laughed.
"We have much to discuss," Lady Galadriel said, her clear voice ringing out through the clearing. "This mission is dangerous, and it affects all of us. But for now you shall stay for two nights and be our guests." With those final words the welcoming committee dispersed. Thorin and Gandalf set of and walked slowly at the sides of the great rulers while the other dwarves were ushered to one of the colossal trees. They climbed the stairs and were silently hoping they would not have to walk all the way to the top, and as their luck would have it, they stopped after a short while in front of a door. The door seemed to have been carved into the side of the tree. The elves opened the door and pushed the dwarves inside. Inside the house it was warmly lit by a blazing stove fire, there were exactly 15 beds, for every member of the company, (Aznor was staying with her parents) there was a living room, with comfortable lounges that were decked out with woolen blankets and pillows and a dining room. In the dining room, there was a table deliciously served with all kinds of elven delicacies. Without hesitation the dwarves pounced on the table and stuffed their faces.
Kili awoke on the soft, crimson sofa in front of the fire. The fire was now only glowing, red, coals but heat still wafted from it. From the sounds of snoring dwarves drifting down the hallway, he assumed that nobody was awake yet. Last night, after a full meal the company had sat down around the fire and told traditional dwarvish stories. Kili had eventually collapsed on the couch after having five mugs of elven wine. He closed his eyes and relished in the quiet when he heard the soft steps of bare feet on the wooden floor. He didn't dare move till he heard the entrance door open and close with a reassuring creek. Quickly and quietly, not bothering to throw a thicker shirt on, he followed the stranger out the door in only his boots, pants and a flimsy, brown linen shirt. He recognized the stranger immediately. Her sleek, black, hair moved slightly as she walked. Nathrindal. Kili's heart gave a shudder and without thinking, he secretly followed her through the trees. They walked for a while, Kili making sure not to make a sound which Nathrindal's sharp, elven ears could pick up. Finally Nathrindal stopped near a lake. The lake's water was clear, and baby blue, at the other of the lake a little waterfall trickled down some rocks, the whole lake was bordered by green foliage. She accessed the water by a little sand shore, she slowly sauntered in, her loose, white, nightgown, and silky, purple mantel floated on the waters surface. Kili crouched behind a bush and almost had a heart attack when he heard a rustling of leaves a few paces left from him. Out of the trees trotted a powerful, bay horse with a pure white star on its forehead, but not just any horse: a Mearas. Kili was astound, the Mearas were one of the fastest breed of horses of Middle-earth. Their mortality is equal to Men and their intelligence and strength are extraordinary. They were usually only ridden by the Kings and Queens of Rohan. The horse neighed a greeting to its mistress and joined her in the water. She extended a hand in friendship and then kissed him on the muzzle. Kili watched them for a while, frolicking in the water. He forgot time and place and he also didn't hear the approaching footsteps. He wasn't prepared to be wrenched back by the collar of his shirt.