The impact of the stone tunnel rattled her teeth, and forced the breath from her lungs. For several moments in which she twisted and turned on the rough walls and ledges, sliding and knocking into the others without any bearing on where they were, Ferin couldn't draw in enough air. She only managed a gasp when she collided with Bombur, just before the tunnel evened out to launch them through a jagged, yawning hole, where they landed in a metal contraption shaped like a gory fly trap.
Ferin landed hard on her back. A sharp pain lanced up her spine, but there was no time to groan before some of the others landed as well. Legs trapped, and fingers raw from trying to grip the walls of the tunnel, Ferin struggled to get free. "Get up!" she croaked. "Up, now!"
All at once, there were screeches, howls, and grunts echoing all around them. Little hands tore at her clothes and skin, pulling her free and onto her feet, while the other vile creatures clambered and leaped over to attack the Dwarves and Bilbo.
Ferin did the only thing she was capable of in this situation: she panicked. Grabbing the nearest grotesque ear, she twisted hard and pulled. There was little resistance. Something howled, and warm wetness dashed across her fingers. In response, one of the Goblins leapt onto her back, angular feet digging into her sides, gnarled hands ripping at her hair. With a pained shout, Ferin grabbed the nearest part of it (a skinny arm), and turned to hurl it away. Its cry faded when it soared over the edge and down into the dark cavern below.
For several seconds, all Ferin did was kick, scrape, tear, and roar, until finally one of them had enough sense to loop a rope around her neck. Ferin tried to work her fingers under before it pulled tight enough to damage, but another of the foul creatures yanked her hand away and wound another length rope around her wrist. Pressure increasing around her neck, Ferin twisted her wrist, coiling the cord around her arm, and pulled. The Goblin jerked towards her with a shriek, and she used the momentum to kick it into one of its mates. Her arm wasn't free for long. With the press of the swarm, soon all her limbs were immobilised, stretched between ten of them with nowhere near enough give to get loose.
"Ferin!"
Ferin strained to look to Vala. Her friend was being shoved close to the edge by the sheer amount of bodies on the thin outcropping of rock, but Vala paid them no mind (bar an odd fist to one of the creatures face). The larger woman could only focus on her. "Don't let them take you," Ferin rasped. "Fight them! Fight them, Vala."
Small, gnarled hands lifted her. They gripped and twisted Ferin's knees and ankles, pulled her arms and tightened their hold until all she could utter was a choked grunt. No matter how she resisted, kicked, bowed her back, or pulled at her bonds, her feet didn't touch the ground, and her hands could find no purchase.
A fly in a spider's web.
The Goblins pushed and shoved the others, ushering them along walkways and bridges that looked like a child's toy matchstick town, until they finally arrived at the centre. Lanterns, torches, and all shapes and forms of the hideous creatures gathered along the crude wooden platforms surrounding a cavern. Wooden spokes forked out like huge splinters, supporting overpasses and long spines of pathways in ill repair. For a horrible, terrible, hopeful moment, Ferin believed she was in a nightmare.
A horn sounded far above them. Clinks and clanks of what sounded like pots and pans followed, before she heard the familiar wretched voice of the Goblin King. His voice carried over them as he began to sing to his cohorts. On and on he went about the tortures he upheld for those who came into his kingdom. The surrounding Goblins around the cavern walls joined in when they deemed it appropriate, the ones that forced them along the path adding to the din, all the while traipsing up the winding walkway to a protruding spike of rock in the centre. There sat the King's throne.
Their captors stopped at the edge, and crowded around the company while they sang. When it was over, the King boasted that the song was of his own devising, and her companions objected to its quality fiercely. The Goblins didn't take kindly to that. Ferin, to one side at the back, was dropped without care, and then pinned while the filthy creatures began burrowing through her clothes to strip her of her weapons.
One particularly greedy Goblin sneaked away from the others to examine her swords intently.
The Goblin King quickly moved off his throne, squashing the smaller subjects that served as a living step. Baubled staff poking the air, he leaned forward to eye them all. "Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?" he growled. "Spies? Thieves? Assassins!?"
"Dwarves, your malevolence," a Goblin in the front said promptly. Ferin couldn't see him, but she expected he had dipped his head towards his King.
"Dwarves?" the King replied incredulously.
"Found them on the Front Porch."
"Well don't just stand there! Search them! Every crack! Every crevasse!"
"Get your damn little hands out of my crevasses!" Vala shouted, and Ferin heard a thump, a crack, and a yelp.
The Goblins pulled Ferin up. Their hold loosened while they rooted around her sides for more. Ferin sucked in a breath and let them, having nothing of value that they hadn't already taken.
With the noise of high pitched chatter, the thumping rush of blood in her ears, and foul stench burning its way through her nose and into her lungs, Ferin felt her mind begin to darken.
A haze slowly encroached on her vision, and Ferin thought that maybe she was entering a dream. She had experienced this once, a long time ago, in a dark back room of an Inn filled with strange smelling smoke. She drifted for a moment, watching everything unfold before her.
The chaos quieted. The King spoke, his jowls swinging with each word. Eyes yellowed and squinted, he climbed over his subjects up to his throne and gazed at them curiously. "What are you doing in these parts?"
No one answered.
Óin stepped forward, confident that he could handle the situation, but he claimed (with a bit of an edge to his voice) that the King would have to speak up since 'his boys flattened his trumpet'.
The Goblin King swelled up in anger, stomping forward and threatening to flatten more than that if he didn't get the truth.
Bofur rushed forward to interrupt, but helped no one when he began a hasty explanation of paths that became sidetracked too quickly for the Kings patience.
"Shut up!" he bellowed, leaping from his seat. Ferin trembled, and all but the Dwarves shrank under his fury. The enormous King shook his finger at them, before turning to entertain his audience. "If they will not talk, then we'll make them squawk! Bring up the Mangler! Bring up the Bone Breaker!"
He turned back to the Dwarves, and eyed Ori gleefully. "Start with the youngest."
"Wait!" Thorin shouted roughly, making his way to the front and facing the Goblin King.
Ferin felt something tighten in her chest.
"Well, well, well," the King said mockingly, taking a step back to admire his sudden, delightful find. "Look who it is. Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór; King Under the Mountain." His chin wobbled grotesquely when he bowed in false respect.
Thorin said nothing, thankfully, holding his stance and remaining composed.
"Oh! But I'm forgetting!" He raised himself back up. "You don't have a mountain. And you're not a King, which makes you... nobody, really."
Goblin and Dwarf King stared at each other for an infinitesimal moment. Ferin swallowed. Thorin's presence meant nothing more to the Goblin King than entertainment. A slow perusal of the Goblins around her, and Ferin thought they were oblivious enough not to notice if she slipped from her bindings.
The King's expression changed; one of realisation and greed came upon him, and he voiced his new thought aloud. "I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head... Just a head," he clarified with amusement. "Nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak?"
Ferin could not see Thorin's face, but the tense line of his shoulders gave him away. She worked her wrists free, using the Goblin King's next words to drown out the soft slap of the ropes falling beside her.
"An old enemy of yours... A pale Orc, astride a white Warg."
"Azog the Defiler was destroyed," Thorin said severely. "He was slain in battle, long ago!"
"So you think his defiling days are done, do you?" He giggled manically. "Send word to the pale Orc," he told a little Goblin on a swinging chair by his throne. "Tell him, I have found his prize."
The little creature chuckled, and after finishing his missive on a scrap of dirty parchment, he turned into the swing of the chair when it glided away down a darkened tunnel.
"I think I'm going to have fun with all of you, and I'll start with you, mighty King under the Mountain!" The large Goblin chuckled, glancing eagerly at them all. He smiled, his crooked teeth rank and blackened with decay.
Amidst the cries and cheers, and the Goblin King's laughter, they all heard the rumbling of the torture devices making their way through the network of tunnels.
Some of the larger Goblins, still no higher than Thorin, rushed forward to grab him, pulling him forward to isolate him from the rest. Thorin struggled. So did the others, cursing, shoving, and lashing out to no avail.
Ferin closed her eyes. A deep inhale, a focused exhale, and she pulled and yanked the rope from around her neck, and dropped to a crouch to rid herself of the ones around her ankle. Surprised, the Goblins just watched her as she shoved her way forward through the throng of Dwarves and wretched Goblins. She snarled at the desperate creatures who got in her way. When she reached Thorin, a swift kick to one of the creature's arms broke the appendage. He released the Dwarf, howling in pain. She bellowed wordlessly at the other Goblins holding him. Wide-eyed, they backed away quickly.
The cavern quieted. Ferin straightened and stilled as much of her shaking limbs as possible. Eyes roving over the situation, the Goblin King stepped closer, lowering himself into a half bow to peer at her. Ferin had to discreetly hold her breath at the smell of his hot, sweat-slick skin. He squinted at the scar on her temple. After a moment, he began to laugh; a hearty, mocking, disbelieving laugh. The others followed, unsure, but enjoying the moment. He backed away, clutching his great belly, and pointed at her as if she was an enormously funny joke.
Ferin stood her ground, clenching her fists. Thorin moved behind her. She didn't turn. She couldn't.
"You – you – " the Goblin King stuttered in his amusement. After several minutes of this he calmed, waving at his subjects to do the same. "You," he smiled. "Oh, I thought I'd never see you again. What a lovely sight. And what are you doing here, my dear? I thought I'd seen the last of you after that little... incident we had. How is your lover boy, then, hmm? Off cavorting with whores instead of you? Oh, what was his name?"
"His name was Tycyn, and no," she ground out. "He is long dead."
"Oh? Surely not," the disgusting beast said, clutching a gnarled and greasy hand over his heart with mock remorse. "But he was such a clever man. I gave him his reward. Did he not…" The Goblin King trailed off, features slowly falling to a frown. Humming, eyes roving back and forth over air, he thought. "No," he murmured. "No, no. My memory has failed me. I'm missing something. He was going to use his gold to buy protection, hmm?"
"Aye," she agreed. "They died with him."
"Ah, yes, yes. I remember now! You threatened to seek him out. Tell me details! Did you kill him slowly for what he did to you and your kin?"
"It was swift. It was more than he deserved." And it was, but Ferin hadn't been able to bring herself to torture him. That night had been one of profound regret, and no matter what he had done, torture had never come easy to her. If she had followed through on her original plan to prolong the man's death, she would not have been able to live with herself.
"How disappointing," the King drawled, standing haughtily and adjusting the grip on his staff. "Why is it that you are here then?"
Ferin hesitated, looking down to the floor. "I had nothing left after him... so I chose to live by his ways. My bitterness has run too deep, and I no longer care to be near the Race of Men." She swept a hand back across the others, not daring to turn and face them. "I have brought these Dwarves to you, to garner safe passage through your mountain, if you would let me."
The uproar from the Dwarves was loud, and the pure fury she felt from behind her felt like a physical burn on her neck. Traitor. Bitch. Her plan all along. We shouldn't have trusted her! Betrayal.
Vala's voice, the only one supportive and pleading for her friend, was nearly lost in the noise.
The Goblins laughed.
Ferin grit her teeth, and returned her hand to her side, squeezing her fists tight enough that her ragged nails cut into her palm. It was a long shot, but it might buy the others some time to think of a way out.
A tight grip on her arm forced her to turn sharply. She lashed out immediately, shoving Thorin away and back towards the others. "Know your place, Dwarf!" she growled. Ferin turned away quickly, feeling the bile creeping up her throat when the Goblins laughed again at her treatment of the King who was not a King. "Will you allow it?" she asked of the Goblin leader.
He paced, and hummed, and grumbled, before stopping to stare at her, not looking convinced. "Why should I believe you?"
"You shouldn't," she agreed. "But why else would I be here? I had no desire to come back to this place. Why would I do so now?"
"Hmm, that is true, I suppose. Where do you travel to?"
"I don't know. I only know that I'm no longer welcome where I reside with this mark I bare, so I seek a new home, far away from this land."
The King chuckled, leaning forward once more. His thick finger was close enough to graze her scar. Ferin jerked her head to one side, not withholding the disgust on her face. Behind them, the large machines of torture were finally near, the rolling, thundering wheels placing strain on the wooden walkways and lesser Goblins backs.
"I remember fondly the moment he gave you that scar. You looked so betrayed. It was delicious! You were on the Bone Breaker were you not? Oh yes, I will grant you your request," he said, moving away from her again. "But I will do so after I have my fun. Your screams were glorious when your limbs stretched!"
He laughed, and stomped, and began another song. His audience of subjects joined in as the devices finally reached the platform.
Ferin was grabbed roughly on both sides, and another Goblin forced her forward by pushing her lower back. They dragged her towards the Bone Breaker.
Someone was screaming. It wasn't until her throat was raw that Ferin realised it was her own begging pleas.
The contraption loomed large and ominous. The straps were worn, but strong, and covered in dried flakes of dark blood.
"You are strong enough to resist!" Vala shouted behind her. "You have beaten them before!"
No. All Ferin could see were her memories, and all she could feel was the pain from when last she had been here. Weeks and weeks of pulling her apart, of cutting enough to bleed but not die, of being on the receiving end of the long lash of a whip, of subtle points of knives stabbing little and often, of bone breaking under swinging hammers...
In the midst of her first session of torture, the Tycyn had laughed and carved a traitors mark into her flesh, before burning a crude brand around it. Within a day of making it, he had left with his prize of gold and trinkets, Ferin the only other survivor of his trap.
The story that everyone believed was that Ferin was the one who'd led her faction of guards through the mountain - their original intended destination a village on the other side needing protection - only to force her troupe through the High Pass where they had been ambushed by Goblins. All this for wealth. Those outside the mountain believed that Tycyn had been strong enough to overpower her before the creatures took him, and escaped when the Goblins took her instead of giving her the reward. But it was Tycyn who should have been branded a traitor for it was Tycyn who had led them into a trap. It had been Tycyn who had forced Ferin to watch her soldiers be tortured and murdered in cold blood. All for gold.
The only thought to keep Ferin focused through it all was that she would find him, and kill him. And she had. After several weeks, when the Goblins grew bored of tormenting her, she had broken free, and raged through their lower tunnels until she escaped.
She couldn't go through it again. It would be the end of her.
Her saving grace came in the form of a screaming Goblin, and a clatter of metal when Ocrist was found and cast away like a red hot poker.
The Goblin King reared back, scrambling onto his throne.
"I know that sword!" he cried, pointing at the gleaming metal. "It is the Goblin Cleaver! The Biter! The blade that sliced a thousand necks." The Goblins around him shrieked, moving away quickly while others angrily lashed out at the Dwarves for daring to bring such a weapon into their kingdom. "Lash them! Kill them! Kill them all!"
The Goblins rallied together and grabbed whichever Dwarves were near, falling upon them in their fear and duty to their King.
"Cut off his head!"
Ferin could only watch as they swarmed upon Thorin, holding him down. One raised a sharpened bone, ready to arc down to spill the Dwarf Prince's blood -
A sphere of blinding light flared through the cavern. Ferin went down with the Goblins that held her. Stunned, she blinked at the high ceiling, until everything fell to darkness, before the lanterns were lit again as if by magic.
"Take up arms," came Gandalf's order. "Fight. Fight!"
The Dwarves, renewed by their ally, surged up and grabbed their weapons. The Goblins retaliated, swelling forward in their numbers to overwhelm the Wizard, but Gandalf was not deterred. He struck and sliced through all who tried to best him, and the Goblin King cowered on his throne. "He wields the Foe Hammer! The Beater! Bright as daylight!"
Ferin stood shakily, and stumbled towards her pile of weaponry. Before she could move more than three steps, she was rushed by the vile creatures. With a growl, she kicked one in the jaw, and backhanded one across the chest to send him flying off the ledge, but the more she took out, the more that took their place.
A sharp pain flared across her back when one Goblin drove a large bone-knife down her shoulder blade, splitting the skin in a ragged line. A quick thrust of an elbow to his nose jerked his head back, and he was lost to the swarm of his brethren.
Suddenly, Thorin was there, hacking through the Goblins surrounding her, until he was close enough to toss her exactly what she needed. She caught her swords with some effort, her right shoulder protesting the movement. Glancing up, Ferin found Thorin giving her a look she couldn't decipher.
"Thorin!" came Kili's cry. Thorin turned just in time to deflect the Kings staff. It bounced, the recoil throwing the huge creature off balance. He fell, taking some of his subjects with him.
Both blades on hand now, Ferin wasted no time in slashing her way through the throng.
"Follow me," Gandalf said sharply. "Quick!" He moved away without waiting for a response. The company followed without question to an empty bridge behind the throne that led to another part of the mountain. The walkways were numerous, like the far reaching vines of thick spider's web, and Ferin tried not to look at the sheer amount of Goblins flowing like a river through reeds towards them from every direction.
Lungs burning, and boots pounding hard with each step, Ferin ran. When she focused her attention off the weak path they were running full tilt on, she found herself beside Vala near the middle of their line of escaping warriors.
"Are you alright?" Vala shouted breathlessly.
"Fine," Ferin responded absently, quickly sidestepping and slicing through a Goblin in their way. Up ahead, Dwalin was bringing down several of the blighters, trying to clear the way forward. A loud roar, and he cut a rope holding part of the handrail, his fellows aiding him in using the wooden post like a battering ram.
When they burst through that group, another took its place. Several dropped sluggishly from the walkways above, already beaten by Gandalf and some of the others that had taken higher ground. It was never ending.
A few meters, more Goblins slain, and the two groups met up again to continue; slashing, thumping, and shoving the creatures off the walkway. Another short tunnel. Another section.. More Goblins.
Ferin was tiring, leaping over fallen Goblins, and swiping her blades in arcs and jabs, adding kicks to those who just wouldn't go down; her body was giving up. Hands slick from her own (and some of the Goblins') blood, she forged on through the haze that seeped up again.
This was too close to her nightmares. Too familiar.
They heard a screeching cry, and looked to see another group of them on the far wall ready to swing to aid their brethren.
"Cut the ropes!" Thorin cried. Ferin did without further thought, and the wooden path they were on tilted slightly as another part fell away, tangling in the swinging ropes and deterring the creatures. They moved on. Archers came towards them. Several missed their mark but one struck Vala in the shoulder. Before Ferin could say anything, her friend surged forward with a cry and shouted to move on, that it was only a flesh wound.
Kili and some of the others forced the Goblins back with a ladder, the same ladder creating a bridge across a large gap just further on. Ferin thought this was getting a bit out of hand.
It got worse. They came to a break in the path too large to cross.
Goblins cut the rope above - and they were suddenly swinging to the other side on makeshift platform.
"Oh for Nienna's sake!" Ferin cried, slashing her blade across a creature's neck before doing the same to another. "This is getting ridiculous!"
They swayed back and forth twice before they could all manage to leap to the other side, cutting off the Goblins from behind. On they went. They split up again before rejoining, Bombur nearly drowning in Goblins before the combined weight forced them down to another level.
Gandalf used his magic to separate a large boulder from its skin of stone on the mountain above them, Dwalin and Thorin guiding it down the pathway to crush anything in its path before they turned and continued down another way.
They could see it then; the way out. The last bridge before the sturdier stone passageway that would lead them to daylight -
Ferin cursed harshly when the Goblin King erupted from underneath, blocking their way.
"You thought you could escape me?" He growled, lashing out at Gandalf with his staff. "What are you going to do now, Wizard?"
It was fairly anticlimactic, Ferin thought later, seeing Gandalf step forward, poke the King in the eye and slice his blade across his gullet.
"That'll do it," the Goblin King said, sounding fairly reasonable about the whole business, before Gandalf ran the same blade across his neck. The Goblin King collapsed. Unfortunately, his weight disturbed the last of the sturdy beams holding them above a large crevasse. There was a creak, and a whine. Ferin hastily sheathed her blades before the platform dropped from underneath their feet.
Ferin's stomach rose to her throat. Her boots lost their traction on the wood. She skidded into Gandalf, before falling into Thorin when they hit the side and tilted the other way. He wrapped a free arm around her waist like a band of steel, leaning sharply into the angle before the wood scraped along the rock, righting itself. They jolted, slid, and finally slowed a bit, before an almighty crash pinned them between the layers of wood they'd accumulated on the way down.
Surprisingly, they were miraculously intact, if a bit bruised.
Gandalf stood and brushed himself off. Ferin concentrated on breathing, and then looked for a way out.
"Well that could've been worse," Bofur said. Not a moment after, the Goblin King's body landed on them with a bone-crushing crack.
They all groaned.
"You've got to be joking!" Dwalin growled.
"Bofur?" Ferin said, heaving herself out with the aid of Gandalf. "You're a wanker."
He grinned through the pain, and they all began to dig themselves out. Ferin helped Vala, and the two women were brushing themselves off when Kili's loud yell alerted them to the swarming Goblins charging towards them down a sharp decline. The sound was like clicking beetles and howling winds. Without a King, there was nothing to stop them.
"There's too many! We can't fight them," Dwalin said, helping to get his comrades on their feet as quickly as possible.
"Only one thing will save us!" Gandalf bellowed, his fear almost palpable. "Daylight! On your feet!"
They ran through the tunnels, Goblins licking like fire on their heels. They saw the daylight streaming through an opening ahead. Gandalf stopped at the exit and urged them on, making sure all got through.
They emerged out into a forest, and blundered down the hill as quickly as their legs could carry them, until they were a safe distance away. They slowed, Ferin nearly rolling the rest of the way when her legs threatened to give out on her. Instead she leaned back, and slid to a stop on her backside.
There was a few minutes of quiet. Ferin closed her eyes and used it to catch her breath. Vala leaned forward, hands on her knees doing the same. Ferin trembled, and after a few minutes, her shoulder began to burn. The strain of fighting had aggravated it further, and she could feel the sweat and blood soaking through her tunic and coat.
"Are you alright?"
Ferin looked up to her friend. She grunted, quickly looking Vala over. The arrow was nowhere to be seen. "Are you?"
Vala smiled, turning her shoulder to allow Ferin to see a large gash across the muscle where her shoulder and neck met. "Flesh wound. As I said."
"Where is Bilbo?" Gandalf suddenly asked, tone urgent. "Where is our Hobbit?"
For a terrible moment, no one could answer. Ferin swallowed, looking around, until she forced herself to look back from where they came.
"Where is our Hobbit!?"
He was not with them. "Curse the Halfling!" someone growled. "Now he's lost?"
"I thought he was with Dori!"
"Don't blame me!"
"Well where did you last see him?" the Wizard asked, frowning and stepping towards the Dwarf.
"I think I saw him slip away when they first collared us," Nori offered, happy to give the information.
"What happened exactly? Tell me!"
"I'll tell you what happened," Thorin said accusingly, moving to be seen clearly by all. "Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it. He's thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth the moment he stepped out of his door. We will not be seeing our Hobbit again. He is long gone."
Ferin scoffed. "Where exactly, do you think we are heading to, Thorin Oakenshield?" she asked sharply. "What are you thinking of on our journey half way across Arda? Do you not think of home?"
Ferin went to stand, to go back to that horror just to be free of Dwarven stubbornness, when Bilbo appeared behind her. "No. I'm afraid I'm still here," he said simply, facing them all.
Bofur sighed in relief. He was the only one smiling happily.
"Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf laughed. "I've never been so glad to see anyone in my life."
"We'd given you up," Kili said in disbelief.
"How on earth did you get past the Goblins?" Fili asked.
"How, indeed?" Dwalin said suspiciously. Bilbo laughed it off and placed his hands in his pockets.
"Well, what does it matter?" Gandalf said, smiling and dismissing it quickly. "He's back."
"It matters," Thorin said quietly. "I want to know... why did you come back?"
Bilbo looked at him for a moment, looking like he had seen Thorin, had really seen him for the first time.
"Look, I know you doubt me. I – I know you always have. And you're right, I often think of Bag End," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I miss my books. And my armchair and my garden. See, that's where I belong. That's home." He paused and looked at the others. "And that's why I came back. Because you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can."
The others said nothing, realising that this little Hobbit, who could have left for The Shire had not abandoned them; he had in fact, fought for his life to remain by their side to help them finish their journey.
Ferin silently looked him over. He looked a little rough around the edges, his buttons were missing, and his eyes were bright. There was no way he could have escaped without help, and Ferin remembered that Goblins were not the only ones who resided in those mountains.
She stood, and approached him. She smiled softly, and clapped him on the shoulder. "Well done, my friend."
A/N: Thank you for follows, favourites, and reviews! You're all gems. ZeB xx