I began to stir some hours later. It was pleasantly warm, and blankets were pulled up to my chin. One of them was wrapped around my waist like a belt. I could hear the other rangers murmuring quietly as they got ready for the new day. I couldn't remember where we were headed, but I knew we had a long walk ahead of us. Something cold brushed my cheek, and I wiped it away impatiently. I needed to sleep.

Sleep?

Suddenly the nightmares that had haunted me for a century came flooding back, and my eyes shot open as all the panic twisted in them stabbed at my mind. I made to sit upright, but was held down. I struggled blindly, then let out a shriek as what I now realized was snow went down the back of my tunic. The blanket round my waist disappeared. I didn't know where I was—'was I with the rangers? No, Arathorn was dead— Oh, Eru, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead—'

"Aeyera!"

I couldn't see anything but darkness. My mind was shrouded in it, and voices screamed, drowning out my own thoughts. 'Where am I? Not home, never home—'

"What's wrong with her?!"

I curled into a ball, clutching my hands over my ears to block out the shrieks of agony and terror. They wouldn't go, why aren't they going away—'In Dol Guldur? No, don't think about it, I can't be there, not again—'

"Princess, wake up!"

'Not at Beorn's either, then where—'

"WAKE UP!"

Someone was shaking me. I was crying. My fingernails dug into my skin. My tears froze on my cheeks. My eyes were open and unseeing. Slowly, so slowly—my vision returned. Dwalin, Thorin, and Thorin's nephews knelt in the snow before me. Dwalin held my wrists in his hands, watching me with concern.

"Wake up," the burly warrior repeated, voice gentler. He released me, but I remained where I was, paralyzed. He stood and whispered something to Fili and Kili, then disappeared with Thorin to take down camp. The brothers spent the next hour calming me down and getting me ready for the day, and then we packed up and left.

I stayed silent the whole day, trapped in my thoughts. Around midday, we reached a section of the mountain that was nearly impassable, and an hour later as we began to make our way through it, it began to rain. It was only a drizzle at first, but within an hour the rain pelted us like little stones, drenching us all. I remembered the last time it rained with Gandalf, where he told us about the other wizards. I wondered where he was; if he was all right.

As I moved to haul myself up over a boulder, my side flared with pain and I hissed, doubling over and nearly falling off the rock. "Are you well, Princess?" Dwalin asked, offering me a hand up as we climbed over a precarious set of boulders that had fallen into our path. The older dwarf's beard and hair shone with the water droplets that streamed down his face. He and all the others, except for Thorin, had seemingly accepted me into the company. "You're moving slower than usual."

I did not find offense at his statement, especially not after that morning when he had been so concerned for me, but accepted his help and pulled myself to the top of the rock pile with a grunt of pain. My hand went to my side, where not two weeks ago I had been torn open by the claws of a warg. I realized that I had not cleaned the wound at all, and I became worried. That night, if weather permitted, I would change the dressings. "I'm alright," I lied, pressing my hand to my side. "Just tired."

We continued hiking up the mountain the rest of the day, and the path we travelled on continued to grow narrower and narrower until it was little more than the shoulder-width of a man, with a cliff on one side and a sheer drop on the other. It was almost dark now, and the freezing rain made it nearly impossible to see. There was a fierce storm in the air, and thunder and lightning crackled through the sky constantly. The wind raged round us, and Fili and Kili were constantly checking over their shoulders to make sure I hadn't fallen.

Thorin called back words of encouragement to the company as continued to struggle forward. "Hold on!"

The stone beneath my feet began to crumble. I looked up, frightened, and saw the rock under Bilbo's feet crack and slip. I froze for a moment, crying out. "Bilbo! Dwalin, grab him!"

Dwalin heard my voice over the wind and managed to pull him back in time. He looked ahead, keeping a firm grip on the hobbit's pack. "We must find shelter!"

My keen ears picked up on a sound I had been hearing for a long while but had dismissed as a crash of thunder. I glanced up at the same time a bolt of lightning split the sky, illuminating an enormous chunk of stone sailing silently through the air. "Watch out!" I pressed myself against the stone face and watched the others do the same as the stone crashed against the cliff side, shaking the foundations of the mountains themselves.

"This is no thunderstorm; it's a thunder battle! Look!" A vaguely humanoid creature made entirely of stone rose from the shadows and roared, baring fangs of rock at something I could not see. Another one of the creatures answered from beyond the mountain. My blood ran cold. I had never felt so small, so helpless.

Bofur stepped forward, eyes as round and large as saucers. "Well bless me, the legends are true. Giants; Stone Giants!" The titan bellowed again and hurled an enormous slab of stone in our direction. I ducked again, shaking violently.

"Take cover you fool!" Thorin yelled over the sounds of the storm and stone. I leapt forward, grabbed Bofur's coat, and hauled him against the wall as the rock smacked against the mountainside with a sound like the earth splitting.

Kili turned to me, eyes wide and panicked. The rain had plastered his bangs to his forehead, and he looked terrified. "What's happening?"

A second giant rounded the corner in time to catch the blunt of the next stone in the shoulder. The impact sent him reeling, and he collided with our mountain. Our path slowly began to crumble as other rocks fell down and knocked off chunks of the pass. Kili grabbed my hand, pulling me closer to both him and the wall. I squeezed his hand back, trembling. My fear of heights came back with a flourish, and I suddenly was petrified with fear. What if I fell? But one look from Kili quelled it.

Any peace was gone in an instant. The ground Kili and I suddenly split. Half the company remained on one side, the other half—my half—on the other. Fili was with me, and Dwalin, and Bilbo. I could see Balin staring helplessly at his brother, and could see Kili's eyes, raw panic reflected in them.

"Kili!" Fili yelled, reaching for his brother. He grabbed my arm, holding me back as I moved to jump to Kili's side.

"Fili! Aeyera!" He reached out to us, but Thorin held him back, blue eyes wide with fear. I had never known him to be afraid, not even when trolls threatened his life.

"Kili!" I screamed. The stone we stood on, which was now revealed to be a giant's knee, moved forward, and Fili moved to shield me with his body, gripping the stone on either side of me to keep my smaller form from falling off. I kept my eyes squeezed shut, my nails digging into the stone. A thousand memories and thoughts rushed through my mind, nearly choking me. I would never see my brother again. Never fall in love. I didn't have to, though, did I? I already was.

A shudder went through the mountain, and I opened my eyes in time to see the head of a giant plunge towards the ground. My heart seemed to stop as we began to follow it. I looked up into Fili's face. It was drawn and pale, but his eyes were open. I clutched the rock with one hand and grabbed his coat, pulling him close to the wall with the other. The next few seconds lasted an eternity. The impact was the worse. It jerked my fingers from the stone, and for a fraction of a second we were flying, then I crashed into a hard, warm body.

I groaned and opened my eyes. Fili lay beneath me, Dwalin under him. Both were fine, and I inadvertently began crying. As Fili sat up, I threw my arms around him. He was alive. He embraced me, patting my back as I pulled away. "Why would you save me?" I choked. My tears mixed with the rain. "Why would you do that?"

"Fili!"

The rest of the company appeared around the corner, and Kili flew over to his brother and I, wrapping Fili in an embrace. I could see him shaking, and I realized that I was as well. To my surprise, he turned and wrapped his trembling arms around me as well. "Thank Mahal you're both safe," he whispered.

"Where's Bilbo? Where's our Hobbit?"

I looked up, panicked. Bofur looked around wildly, and the others spun around. I remained on the ground, in too much shock to trust my legs to function properly. Had he been crushed? Had he fallen? "There!"

Dwalin turned as lightning ripped through the sky. "Get him!"

The dwarves began piling over themselves to reach him, and it was Thorin who threw himself over the cliff to haul him back. My legs began to work, and I scrambled to the edge where Thorin hung. Dwalin was trying to lift him back to safety, but Dwalin's grip slipped, and Thorin began falling as well. I grabbed his free arm and he glared at me, making it clear that my assistance wasn't wanted. I glared back and pulled harder, yelling with pain as the strain tugged on my side. With Dwalin's help, I was able to pull Thorin up. On the last tug, just as Thorin reached solid ground, the rock beneath my left foot crumbled, and I fell, grabbing onto the ledge and screaming as my wound stretched taught. Fili and Kili, who had followed me, pulled me back up where I huddled for a moment, shaking and gathering my thoughts. I was terribly afraid of both heights and falling; I was not overly overjoyed at having experienced both in a matter of moments.

Once Thorin and I were safely on the ledge again, Dwalin turned to Bilbo in obvious relief. "I thought we'd lost both our burglar and our elfling," he said, winking at me to show he meant no harm.

Thorin stood and glared venomously at the obviously shaken-up hobbit and ignored me, turning away. "They've been lost ever since they left home. They should never have come. They have no place amongst us."

I watched him for a moment, then looked down. He was right; I didn't belong here. I didn't belong anywhere. "Dwalin!" We began moving again, heading deeper into the mountains. Fili and Kili stood before and behind me, making sure I did not fall again.

After another hour of useless wandering, we eventually found a cave to rest in. Dwalin peered inside. "Looks safe enough," he said, clearly wanting to be out of the rain.

Thorin glanced around as the others filed in. "Search to the back; caves in mountains are seldom unoccupied."

I stood to the side, arms wrapped around my trembling, dripping form. I couldn't help but wonder why the king would send his family members and friends in first to observe a potentially life-threatening place, and I watched as Dwalin searched the cave with a lantern. I glanced at Thorin in irritation when the older dwarf called, "There's nothing here."

We all crowded inside, relieved to be someplace dry. Gloin dropped a bundle of wood on the floor and rubbed his hands together. "Alright then! Let's get a fire started."

Thorin turned around quickly, quenching any hope we had of becoming dry. "No fires, not in this place. Get some sleep. We start at first light."

Balin turned to the prince. "We were to wait in the mountains until Gandalf joined us. That was the plan."

Thorin scowled. "Plans change. Bofur, take the first watch."

The one thing good out of the whole ordeal was that the princes and I could sleep. Or at least, they could sleep. I could dream. Soon the entire company, save Bofur and I, were asleep. I kept watch in my corner, avoiding sleep. Because of my elf-blood, I didn't need to sleep the same way all other peoples did, but even with my choice, I chose to lie awake rather than to spend my nights locked in a nightmare. I thought of all the years of torment I had received and shuddered. Whenever I was unconscious, I was stuck reliving those horrible moments. Even in waking I was trapped. I had no desire to do so out of choice. Not anymore.

A noise from nearby made me shift and look around. Bilbo, who evidently had only been pretending to be asleep, packed up his things and rolled up his blanket, attaching it to his pack. He hoisted himself to his feet and grabbed his walking stick. With one final glance around, he started to leave the cave, tiptoeing over the sleeping dwarves. I moved stealthily behind him, making no noise in the sand that covered the ground.

"Where do you think you're going?" The kind dwarf asked, startling the hobbit. He jumped, startled, and a helpless expression crossed his face.

"Back to Rivendell," Bilbo whispered, looking at the ground. I recognized the desperation in his eyes; it was mirrored in my own. I moved and stood beside Bofur, watching the hobbit sadly. I wished I could join him, and as much as I hated to see him go, I knew that he could make it. He was strong, this hobbit. And Thorin had hurt him so badly... almost as much as Kili had hurt me. My heart ached, and my throat tightened.

"No, no, you can't turn back now, you're part of the Company. You're one of us," Bofur tried to urge the hobbit to change his mind, but he shook his head, resigned.

"I'm not though, am I? Thorin said I should never have come, and he was right. I'm not a Took, I'm a Baggins, I don't know what I was thinking. I should never have run out my door." He paused for a moment, and then pointed at me with his walking stick. "Aeyera knows what I'm talking about. She's an elf, and she doesn't belong on this venture anymore than I do."

I gazed at the stone for a moment, and then turned my gaze to the hobbit, then finally to the dwarves I so desperately longed to protect. "You're homesick," I finally managed. "I understand."

Bilbo shook his head, angry now. "No, no, you don't, you don't understand! None of you do—you're dwarves, and you're an exile! You're all used to—to this life, to living on the road, never settling in one place, not belonging anywhere!" I dropped my gaze, eyes stinging. His words stung more than I thought they would, rubbing salt into the wound Kili had created a week before. Even if we had come to an understanding, it still hurt. "I'm sorry, I don't..."

Bofur placed a hand on my shoulder briefly, squeezing it kindly. I looked out over the sleeping dwarves, and a tear fell down my cheek. "No, you're right. We don't belong anywhere." I turned back to the hobbit and smiled warmly, more tears forming in my eyes. "I wish you all the luck in the world. I really do."

I moved forward and kissed the hobbit's forehead. "Be safe, my dear Bilbo Baggins," I said softly, blessing his in the only way I knew how.

"You're not going to convince me to stay?" he asked, looking up at me.

I shook my head, crossing my arms over my chest. "No. You were right—I don't belong anywhere." I smiled softly at the hobbit. "But you belong in the Shire. That's where your home is, and where your heart is." I touched his chest, my hand resting over his heart.

"… And where is your heart, Princess?" he asked, shuffling his hairy feet.

I shook my head, feeling the burden of my years weighing heavily on my shoulders. I glanced over at the sleeping prince in the corner and felt my heart clench painfully. "I don't know."

Bofur placed his hand on Bilbo's shoulder before the hobbit turned, about to walk away from our company forever. Before I could turn away, my keen eyes caught the unmistakable gleam of blue light emanating from Bilbo's sheathed sword. "What's that?"

My blood ran cold, and I turned and raced over to my pallet. I shoved one of the two dagger's Fili had given my down the front of my corset, making sure the flat of the blade pressed against my skin, and not the point. The other went into my boot. I strapped my bow and quiver and long knives to my back, my sword to my side. "Wake up! Get up! Wake up!" I looked up and made eye contact with Thorin, whose terror and realization mirrored my own.

We were too late. Before anyone could react, the floor of the cave collapsed downwards, revealing that the floor was really an enormous trap door. We hung suspended for a moment and then fell straight down, hitting stone time and time again. I spun around, clawing fruitlessly at stone in an effort to slow my descent. My side burned, and my forehead began to sting.

After what seemed like forever, I landed one a pile of dwarves in a wooden cage, suspended over a black chasm. Thorin, who was directly beneath me, reached down and pulled my hood over my head, hiding my hair and fair features. "Do not take it off," he hissed. "No matter what."

His eyes held no anger, no contempt: only panic and fear. I realized what was about to happen a moment before it did. Before I could move, goblins began to swarm us, scratching and clawing at us and dragging us to our feet, snatching away every visible weapon they could find. They began to shove us forward, tugging at any visible clothing or limbs.

The other dwarves formed a guard around me, allowing me a moment to think. It was obvious what would happen if I were discovered to be a female. I shuddered as I walked, cold sweat soaking my tunic and hair. As we were dragged along, I kept my hood drawn and my face downcast, my thoughts whirling but not leading me anywhere. Panic fogged my mind.

The smell was horrible, and it took all my willpower to keep from gagging. It was a milder version of the reek that permeated Dol Guldur, and the reminder made my knees shake. The shrieks of goblins grew deafening, and more and more appeared the deeper we moved into the mountain.

The goblin horde brought us through a vast network of tunnels and wooden bridges to the throne room and platform of the Great Goblin. I had heard of him, of course; he often sent scouts to try and track the Dúnedain's movements. We always caught them, of course, but it was irksome, having to always watch for goblins and wargs instead of telling tales around the fire. Oh how I longed for those times. So simple. So safe. I would have given anything to go back.

The Great Goblin was a massive goblin seated upon on a throne, holding a mace topped with a skull. He was far larger than any other goblin I had faced, and he was incredibly ugly, with enormous, oozing warts, blisters, and sores all over his swinging chin, which looked to be made of fat. His yellow eyes glared down at us, and his brown teeth glistened in the torchlight.

The goblins pushed us into the center of the room, and the dwarves moved so that I was in the center, still protecting me. The goblins threw our weapons to the floor, and the Great Goblin heaved himself off his throne, trampling several goblins situated near the base that acted as a stool. As he approached the company, someone took my hand, and I looked over to see that Kili had gripped it. I squeezed back, very aware of my sweaty, shaking form. I was terrified. The memories of everything I had endured lurked at the very edge of my sanity, and it seemed only moments before I would lose my mind. I remembered the crack and burn of whips and white-hot irons, and the memories made me feverish and petrified.

The Great Goblin began speaking, his voice booming around the great cave. "Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom? Spies? Thieves? Assassins?" He leaned close to us, enormous eye wide and oozing grey liquid.

A goblin close to us replied, "Dwarves, Your Malevolence."

"Dwarves?" The goblin repeated incredulously. He blinked stupidly, eyeing us in a new light.

"We found them on the front porch," it growled. Kili gripped my hand tighter, and the dwarves shuffled around so that I was wedged tightly in the center of the circle. Fili stood to my right and had my forearm in an iron grip. I could feel the cool steel of Fili's knife against the skin of my abdomen, and the other. Thorin glanced my way, taking in my grey, clammy skin and my shaking form. He frowned, obviously confused.

The Great Goblin raised his arms. "Well, don't just stand there; search them! Every crack, every crevice."

Every crack, every crevice. I let out a terrified gasp, and Dwalin moved closer to me, growling. The goblins leaped forward, shoving their hands in every fold of clothing they could find. They tugged at my cloak, nearly pulling it off, but I kicked the goblin away. Its claws raked my arm, leaving red welts that burn like stripes from a whip. The dwarves protected me from the worst of the searching, and the goblins did not find the knives, but by the end I was even weaker than before, and Kili now was supporting me. I felt I might collapse.

The Great Goblin spoke again. "What are you doing in these parts? Speak!" Not a one said a word. Thorin stared down the goblin defiantly. "Well then, if they will not talk, we'll make them squawk! Bring out the Mangler! Bring out the Bone Breaker! Start with... that one!"

The Great Goblin searched for a moment before pointing at Kili, and without thinking, I screamed "No! Take me!"

The goblin, startled by my shrill voice, stared for a moment before a horribly evil look crossed his face. "No!" he called to his soldiers. They froze. "Take her!" He pointed at me, and the dwarves closed ranks even more, protecting me as best they could. Fili and Kili both fought tooth and nail against the goblins who yanked me away, and Dwalin and Gloin yelled in defiance and tried to defend me as well. Their best efforts weren't enough. They were overcome, and two burly goblins that reeked of sewage dragged me forward and shoved me to my knees, each keeping a strong grip on my shoulders and wrists to keep me in place. I longed to look to Kili, to Fili, to know that they had my back, but I couldn't. I was alone.

"Show me your face," the Great Goblin commanded. I didn't move. Another goblin came forward, yanked my hook back, and forced my head up by jerking a fistful of my hair backward. I cried out, and the goblin frowned slightly, fat jiggling. "I know you." He suddenly laughed, a terrifying, echoing bellow, and the other goblins took up his call, shrieking and jeering. "Your majesty!" he called mockingly, bowing. "It has been too long, my lady. It's been… what? One hundred and fifty years?" He turned to the audience gleefully. "May I introduce, her royal highness: the Princess of Mirkwood!" The goblin ranks went ballistic: screaming, laughing, threatening, spitting. One came up and struck me across the face, and I heard Kili shout my name as tears of pain sprung to my eyes. The Great Goblin staggered over to where I stood. "Don't worry, I'll save you for someone else. However… You don't have to be in one piece."

He turned and gestured for the goblins to drag me forward. Their grips on my shoulders were so tight that I feared my joins might tear, and I groaned in pain. The sharpened edge of Fili's knife dug into my skin. They half dragged, half carried me to a whipping post in plain view of every creature in the hall, and then forced me to my knees. They tore off my cloak and tunic and shoes, leaving me in my trousers, corset, and undershirt. The goblin took a knife and sawed through the back of the corset and undershirt, tearing them open.

My wrists were then forced into chains, which were locked tightly. My fingernails dug into the splintered, bloodied wood of the post as fear began to consume me. Darkness began to assault my mind, and I barely had enough strength to fight against it. I fought to preserve my modesty; although I didn't know how much longer I would be alive to do so. The thought of death frightened me more terribly than I had ever let on: what would happen when I died?

"Let us begin with lashes!" The Great Goblin announced happily. "A flogging should do!"

I tried to look over my shoulder at my friends, but a sudden pain like fire flared up from my back, and I screamed, lunging forward against the post and pressing my wrists against the iron trapping them. I clenched my teeth against the pain. I had faced worse pain than this; I could make it—"Another!" He yelled. I tried to keep from making any noise, but it was in vain. The whip they used was embedded with rock and metal, and it tore through my skin as easily as a knife passes through a spider-web. I began to drift out of the mortal world, and everything took on a red tint. Blood dripped down my forehead like sweat; I lived in a world of pain. I could have received one lash or a hundred, I could not tell. The goblin spoke again, and I heard something that pierced my mind like an arrow. "Fetch the hot irons."

I wept and whimpered, straining wildly against the iron chains holding me in place. I could feel the heat nearing my exposed flesh, and right before it made contact, Thorin's voice echoed through the cave. "Wait!"

The goblin laughed. "Well, well, well, look who it is. Thorin son of Thrain, son of Thror; King under the Mountain." I sagged against the pole. He gave himself up; I couldn't save him. I tried, I tried, but I couldn't—I just couldn't. "Oh, but I'm forgetting, you don't have a mountain. And you're not a king. Which makes you nobody, really." The goblin audience tittered as they watched.

"Release the elf," Thorin bellowed. "It's me you want, not her."

I sagged against the posts, unable to keep myself upright. "No," the Great goblin replied. "She stays."

I couldn't fall unconscious; it was nearly impossible with the energy flooding through my veins despite the agony I felt. I was literally forced to stay awake, and I listened to the terrible goblin as he spoke. "I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head," he told Thorin. "Just the head, nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak, an old enemy of yours. A Pale Orc astride a White Warg," he snarled the rest. "He desires to have your blood as well, elfling," he leered, touching my back with one of his enormous fingers. I jerked away, crying out. "You're not out of the fire yet."

I felt my blood run cold, and I began shaking even more than I had been before. How could Azog the Defiler possibly be alive?

"Azog the Defiler was destroyed," Thorin replied, voice hushed. "He was slain in battle long ago."

The Great Goblin laughed at him. "So you think his defiling days are done, do you?" He roared with mirth. "Send word to the Pale Orc; tell him I have found his prize." A small, shrill voice began to cackle with laughter, and the sound faded quickly as my dread grew.

"Bring the torture machines!" The goblin called, dancing from one foot to the other. The planks below my knees shuddered and creaked. "Only their leader and the elf are needed alive."

Minutes later, dozens of goblins carried massive instruments of torture on their shoulders, bringing them to the Great Goblin. Meanwhile, the Great Goblin was dancing and singing lustily, "Bones will be shattered, necks will be rung! You'll be beaten and battered, from racks you'll be hung. You will lie down here and never be found, down in the deep of Goblin Town!"

The goblins suddenly began to shriek and squeal, and the Great Goblin ran rapidly to his throne, enormous feet stomping the ground, trampling many goblins on his way. He spoke loudly, frantically, "I know that sword! It is the Goblin-Cleaver, the Biter, the blade that sliced a thousand necks!"

The crack of whips sounded throughout the cave, as well as the sound of the dwarves' yells and grunts of pain. I strained against the iron shackles but could do nothing; even the smallest movement sent bolts of agony through my shattered mind. "Slash them! Beat them! Kill them! Kill them all! Cut off their heads!"

"NO!" I screamed.

Suddenly, there was a massive explosion of bright light; everything seemed muted as the shockwave of energy exploded towards us. Everyone was knocked down, including the Great Goblin. The pole I was chained to was not. When the force of the explosion had passed, most of the lights in the area had been snuffed out; I looked over to see that in the background, a tall shadow with a pointed hat was walking up. It was Gandalf, holding his staff and his sword, Glamdring. Light slowly returned to the area as the goblins and the dwarves began to sit up, all united in confusion. "Take up arms. Fight. Fight!"

The sound of fighting commenced quickly, and I tugged fruitlessly against my chains, tears rolling down my cheeks. A hand touched my shoulder, and I screamed. "Aeyera, we're here!" Fili and Nori stood beside me, and the latter immediately began picking at the locks of the shackles, releasing me in seconds. Fili took in my ruined clothing and immediately reached forward and tied my undershirt together at the top and bottom, preserving my modesty as best he could. He did the same with my corset and then lifted me to my feet. The whips had not missed them, and bloody footprints stained the wood. I sagged against the prince, gripping handfuls of his coat in my shaking fists.

"I can't—" My tongue felt like sandpaper.

My feet burned, and I choked back a sob as I tried to stand. Fili didn't realize what was wrong, at first. He urged me to stand, but Nori's soft voice cut through the chaos. "Fili, she can't walk. Her feet…" Fili looked down and paled visibly. A goblin moved to strike the prince, but a well-aimed blow from Dwalin's hammer knocked it back. The Great Goblin's voice cut through the clamor. "He wields the Foe-Hammer, the Beater, bright as daylight!"

I saw Kili grab my weapons and swing them over his shoulders, fighting with his sword to hack his way to his brother. A group of goblins suddenly swarmed our little group, tearing me away from my friends. Unable to stand, I was knocked to the ground, and stars exploded behind my eyes as my head cracked against the ground. Through blurry eyes I saw the Great Goblin bearing down on me, mace held his over his head, ready to back my skull in. I shut my eyes and curled into a ball, shaking. Hot blood soaked the cloth barely covering my mutilated body.

"Aeyera! NO!" My eyes jerked open in time to see Thorin leap forward and deflect the Great Goblin's blow. The beast stumbled backward and stumbled off the edge of his platform, waving his arms wildly, a look of panic on his face. He lost his balance and fell, disappearing in the darkness below. Thorin scooped me into his arms before passing my limp from to Oin and Ori. The two supported me as best they could, fighting with their free arms.

Gandalf turned quickly. "Follow me. Quick! Run!"

Everything began to blur together. Ori broke off to rush to his brother's side, leaving Oin alone to carry me through the tunnels in Gloin's wake. I took deep, shuddering breaths, feeling the steel of Fili's knife on my ribs. Almost unconsciously, I reached down and pulled it from beneath my clothing, gripping it in my fist. I would not be defenseless again, not here. I kept my eyes fixated on Kili and Fili's backs, noting that Kili had a strange pouch slung over his shoulder. As my mind drifted, I watched them, making sure they were safe as we headed deeper and deeper into the mountain, fleeing for our lives.