A/N: We're nearing the end of our story... our heroes are heading into the Valinor Corporation to confront Morgoth. It should go without saying, but here's a warning for violence in this chapter.

...

Tuesday November 12, 2019

San Francisco, California

...

Dawn spread over the horizon like wildfire, painting the storm clouds a deep blood red. The air was cloyingly thick, with no breeze to calm the beads of sweat that slid down temples and trickled over spines. In the growing daylight, the brick building of the Valinor Corporation looked like an impenetrable fortress. Bilbo half expected to find banners flying and horns blowing to signal that Morgoth was awaiting their strike, but the glass block windows remained dark and motionless.

The members of the company shuffled quietly around the car, checking their weapons and saying hesitant goodbyes. Dori and Balin were staying behind because of their injuries, Bombur because he wasn't much good in a fight. Ori was not at liberty to join them, but watched Bilbo with a deeply inquisitive look. The boys were another story entirely- while Fíli clearly didn't want his brother to be part of the battle, he also didn't want to be left behind. Kíli's lower lip stick out in a full fledged pout, but he stayed obediently on the hood of the Bronco.

Bilbo slowly made his rounds and said goodbye to Dori, Bombur, and Ori. He hugged Balin affectionately and offered in jest to keep an eye on Dwalin while they were inside. Stormcrow and Mahal offered no more advice except to exchange knowing smiles, so he bid them quick farewells and moved on. Bilbo saved the boys for last, pulling them in to a tight hug and making them promise to take care of each other no matter what the outcome. It was something he knew they would do regardless of his asking, but it made him feel better to hear it all the same. If he hugged them a little too tightly, neither boy seemed to mind.

Thorin moved in and wrapped his arms around his nephews, pulling them close. Bilbo couldn't hear the words they exchanged, but he could see the love and affection that played out beside the fear on their faces. Kíli's smile was small and hopeful, while Fíli nodded at their uncle with a fierce determination. Thorin pressed a kiss to each boy's forehead and then released them, stepping back as though he didn't want to let them go. "You two boys are the best thing that has ever happened to me. You are everything that is bright and good in this world," Thorin's voice broke. "No matter what happens, you lads need to know that you are loved. You are so loved." He did nothing to disguise the tears in his eyes as he shouldered a baseball bat and turned towards Valinor.

…

Bilbo fell in step beside Thorin as they made their way down the hill towards the front gates of the Valinor Corporation, their shoulders brushing against each other as they walked. "We don't have to do this, you know. There's still time to leave. To find a safe corner to hide and never look back."

Thorin responded without looking away from their goal. "We have to do this for the boys. You can leave if you want to... I can't force you to stay..."

"You know I'm staying," Bilbo said as they entered the fence surrounding the Valinor Corporation building. Dwalin and Nori followed close behind them, eyes peeled for any sign of danger. Oin and Gloin shuffled nervously, neither wanting to be a part of the battle, but both necessary because of their knowledge. Bofur and Bifur brought up the rear, watching their backs, a well as making sure the jittery scientist didn't decide to bolt.

"The doors are locked with electric keypads. There are battery back-ups, so they should work as long as my authorization codes are still good," Gloin said under his breath. He looked down at his son's picture and exhaled deeply as if to steady himself. "We have to assume there will be goblins inside- Bauglir always kept test subjects around. They're usually in cells, but he might release them to try and slow us down."

"We'll have to free the other scientists," Oin added, straightening his lab coat. "I believe we were the only ones to escape before the lock down."

The front door of the Valinor Corporation building loomed before them, a heavy steel barrier between the company and their goal. A small touch screen to the right of the door flashed green when Gloin tapped a series of numbers on the keypad. "It looks like the battery back-up is still functioning." He swung the door inward and they entered a short vestibule hallway with two doors at the end.

Dim light filtered in through the glass block windows, but Oin lit two torches and passed one to Bilbo. "The door on the left is a conference room. The other leads down to the laboratories."

Dwalin and Thorin crept forward and flanked the left door, throwing it open and peering inside with weapons raised. "Clear," Dwalin proclaimed, making a quick search of the room. The large conference table was scattered with papers and several of the chairs were overturned. "Looks like someone left here in a hurry." He moved back to the hallway and threw open the second door, staring down in to the darkness below. "This ain't gonna be fun. Light the rooms as best you can and watch each others backs." Bilbo moved towards the front of the group and lit the way as they crept down the stairs.

At the bottom of the staircase Bilbo's torchlight reflected off a dozen pairs of vacant eyes. The goblins appeared to have been fighting amongst themselves; many sported missing fingers and hands that festered with gangrene, the rotting flesh dark and oozing. Bilbo gagged at the smell, but raised his torch high so the others could see their foes. Dwalin broke ranks first and slammed his fist in to the nearest goblin, his brass knuckles caving the creature's face in. Thorin moved up to guard his friend's back, taking down another of the beasts with a blow to the neck. Bifur let out a muddled war cry and leaped into the fray, wielding the shaft of a broken golf club like a spear. Bofur's mattock made quick work of his opponents, the sound of cracking bone sounding out above the cacophony of screams and moans. Gloin backed his brother into a corner, swinging his club to knock back the goblins who ventured too close. As soon as he grounded a foe, Nori rushed in with a wickedly curved hunting knife and slit the creature's throats and tendons, leaving them to bleed out on the tiled floor. Bilbo tried his best to stay out of the way, keeping his torch aloft and using his bat when an opportunity presented itself. He moved in to down a foe when Bifur was knocked off his feet, but stepped back as soon as the other man righted himself.

It didn't take long for the company to dispatch of the remaining goblins. They piled the corpses inside the trio of holding cells which lined on side of the hallway, to keep the main path clear in case they had to make a quick escape. Next to the cells, a door opened to reveal a security office that was just as empty as the conference room upstairs.

"Something's not right," Gloin said with a deep frown. "Where is everyone? There should be a dozen scientists and workers here." The opposite side of the hall boasted two heavy doors with bio-chemical warning signs. "Those are the labs- the others must be hiding inside."

Moving in to defensive positions, Dwalin and Thorin threw open the first door. Lab equipment lay scattered across the tables and floor, a faint burning smell emanating from a metal trash can in the corner. "They've destroyed all the research notes," Oin growled, broken glass crunching beneath his shoes.

"Never mind the notes," Bilbo snapped. "I do believe we've got more important things to worry about." He swiftly opened the second door and jumped back in horror, "Oh no..." Inside the small laboratory lay a dozen corpses, piled up as if they had been scrambling over each other to get away. A myriad of wounds covered the bodies, throats and arteries slashed, blood staining their lab coats red. Bilbo pulled the door shut, blocking the victims from view, though he knew the image would always be burned into his mind. "I don't think the goblins did that."

"No, that was no goblin," Thorin's voice was almost a snarl. "Either Morgoth has help, or he's even more dangerous than we realized."

"Well, that's a cheery fucking thought," Nori scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "What's down the next flight of stairs?"

"The next flight? Oh, yes." Oin blinked slowly. "The bottom level houses Doctor Bauglir's office, the two vaults, and the safe room."

"Safe room?" Bofur re-situated his hat, tugging the ear-flaps downward. "Like lock yourself in for weeks with food an' water an' everything?"

"Precisely." Oin nodded. "If Doctor Bauglir is still here, I would surmise that is where he will be. It has three deadbolt locks and can only be opened from the inside."

"Mebby th' idjit dun lef," Bifur drawled, wiping the point of his makeshift spear off on his shirttail.

Bilbo frowned, "I'm not sure if I hope you're right or not." He rubbed a hand over his forehead, worrying at a bruise he didn't remember getting. "I certainly don't want to fight him, but if he escaped with vials of the GOBO Virus, he could easily infect other survivors." Sighing heavily he shook his head with a shrug, "I do believe he needs to be dealt with."

"Before we go down there I want to say something," Thorin looked fondly at each man in the company. "You have all taken on this task with more loyalty, honor, and bravery then I ever expected. I'm proud to be part of this family." He urged them towards the door. "Let's get on with it then."

A murmur of agreement rang out from the company and Bilbo felt his heart swell at the comradely, even in the face of death. "Morgoth may be powerful, but we are Mahal's Pride and we have something he will never have- each other!" He pressed a hand against the side of his jacket, feeling the now-familiar weight of the knife tucked inside. With a grim nod he hefted his torch and followed Thorin down the stairs into the vaults.

…

The basement of the Valinor Corporation consisted of a small hallway with four locked doors, black tiled floors, and dark blue cement walls. The temperature crept much lower than the upper levels, cool enough to keep vaccines stable and to raise tiny goosebumps along any exposed bit of flesh. Bilbo wedged his torch into the crook of a wall sconce and looked around with a growing unease. The quiet seemed to reach for miles, broken only by the occasional snap of fire from the torches and their soft footsteps against the marble floors.

No one said a word as they moved to the first door, Gloin mouthing the word office before entering a numerical sequence on the keypad. The heavy clunk of the door unlocking echoed in the silence, causing more than one member of the company to jump. Morgoth's office appeared to be in order, with neat stacks of paper in the memo tray and freshly sharpened pencils lined up in a perfect row. A series of motivational posters hung on the walls, proclaiming the importance of things like Goals! Leadership! and Success! and bearing pictures of mountain climbers and kittens hanging from tree branches. A low bank of file cabinets bordered one wall, each file carefully labeled with a name and date. The first file they opened contained a picture of a pretty young girl smiling at the camera and was dated July 23, 2019. There was a sheaf of medical charts and test results, followed by a series of photographs, each more grisly than the last. "He documented them," Bilbo whispered. "He sat there and took pictures while the plague destroyed them!" The bile rose in his throat at the realization. He watched Thorin shift through the files until he came to his father's name, and said nothing when he saw the other man slide the folder into his coat.

Moving back into the hall, Dwalin pressed an ear against the imposing black door of the safe room and listened for signs of life inside. He shook his head and shrugged, silently asking Thorin what to do. Thorin motioned towards the vaults and mouthed the word vaccine at Gloin. Rubbing his ID badge absently between his fingers, Gloin stared at the keypad for several seconds before pressing the buttons. With a metallic click the door the the vault unlocked and slid open. Clear plastic boxes sat upon the metal shelves that lined the walls, each holding tiny glass vials of GOBO vaccine. "There must be enough vaccine here to safeguard at least a thousand people," Thorin breathed with excitement as he pulled several boxes down and stacked them under his arm.

"Thieves!" Behind the black door to the safe room a dark and terrible voice sounded. As the company watched in horror, the first lock slid open with a resounding snap.

With panicked eyes, Thorin turned to Oin and shoved the boxes of vaccine into his hands. "Go! Take your brother and get out of here! If things go bad I want you to take the boys and run!" His words were rushed as he pleaded with his friend. "Vaccinate them! They know where your nephew is... please! Just keep them safe!"

The second bolt unlocked.

"I'm staying here!" Gloin's voice was thick with fear and resolve. "It's time to fight so my son has a world to grow up in." He hugged his brother tightly, then pushed his towards the stairs. "If I... You'll tell Gimli that I love him, won't you?"

"You'll tell him yourself," Oin whispered fiercely. "But, yes. You know I will, if..." He blinked away tears and raced up the stairs with the boxes of vaccine tucked tightly under his arm.

The final latch unlocked.

Morgoth Bauglir was tall, with impossibly dark hair, and eyes that seemed to simultaneously burn with a withering stare and pierce with a deadly cold. Deep jagged scars ran the length of his face and narrowly missed his left eye, looking as though a colossal bird had swooped down and clawed at his flesh with viscous talons. Thick ropes of burnt tissue circled his fingers and curled up his hands, as if he had once worn rings hewn from pure fire. He wore black from head to toe; an impeccably tailored suit that gave way to a polished leather boot on his left foot and a metal prostheses in place of his right. He was fearsome and terrible and radiated an air of undiluted evil that seemed to leach all of the joy and hope out of the room.

"Who is it that dares come into my fortress and attempts to steal what is rightly mine?" The voice was deep and commanding, and although Morgoth's lips moved, the words seemed to resonate from within their minds. "Who dares defy me?"

Bilbo's heart thumped so loudly in his chest that he thought it might burst under the strain. "Well, uh, you see..." He stopped stumbling through his words and took a deep breath to clear his head. "We are Mahal's Pride and we demand to know why you have marred our world."

"You demand?!" Morgoth's eyes shot looks of fire and ice that withered Bilbo to his core. "You mortals have no power to demand anything of me. And yet..." He paused and tilted his head sharply to the side. "And yet you come in the name of Mahal and that intrigues me. What is it you wish to know before I destroy you?" Firelight from the torches flickered across his skin and caused shadows to settle into the deep crevices of his scars.

"Why did you have the scientists create the GOBO Virus?" Bilbo's voice sounded more calm than he felt and he forced himself to look Morgoth in the eye, even though every shred of self-preservation told him to flee.

Morgoth's laugh was chilling and held within it no degree of mirth, "Money? Power? Fear? Why does anyone do anything really? For gain!" He slammed his fist hard against the wall, leaving a deep indention in the dark cement. "Your government did not believe that I could defeat them. I showed them proof of my work and demanded control over your puny country, but they denied me! That was their first mistake."

While Morgoth raged on with his self-elaboration, the members of the company made silent plans with their eyes and skirted closer together in preparation for an attack. If their foe saw through their designs he was not worried and continued on with his monologue.

"They sent an elite task force to capture me, you know." The grin that crawled up Morgoth's face tugged at the scar tissue and formed a grotesque grimace. "They were the first to suffer the corruption of my glorious sickness! Your government learned that day that if I could not rule them, that I would destroy them!"

"You have no dominion over us, Morgoth," Thorin spoke with a calm assurance. "We except leaders, not rulers. You are no longer welcome here."

Morgoth's temper flared as he spun you face Thorin. "Me? It is you who has overstayed your welcome." He flexed his fingers, scars stretching over the muscle as he formed his hands in to fists. "And for that you will die!" Without batting an eye, Morgoth swung his fist forward and connected with Thorin's face, sending him flying hard into the wall and crumpling against it. Bilbo rushed to Thorin's side, trying to drag the other man upright while staying out of harm's way. The knife in his pocket weighed heavily on his mind and he struggled to figure out what to do.

"Thorin!" Dwalin screamed his friend's name as a war cry and rushed forward, slamming into their foe and pummeling him with iron fists. Nori crept in from behind, cutting deep gashes into the flesh of Morgoth's back and arms which gushed crimson but did not slow him down. Bifur joined the fray at Nori's side, wielding his makeshift spear with enough force to break ribs, but his weapon could make no purchase in the torso of a divine being. Morgoth fought back with uncanny speed and force, using no weapon other than his body to dominate the battle.

"It ain't no use!" Bofur screamed, blood gushing down the side of his face in heavy rivulets. "He's too strong!"

"Keep fighting!" Thorin struggled back to his feet just as Gloin sailed past him, rolling across the ground and coming to a stop with one arm jutting out at an odd angle. Blood oozed from where the bone ripped through the skin in multiple places, and his eyes rolled back in response to the pain.

Morgoth lashed out and grabbed Nori's knife, slashing as the boy darted out of the fray, leaving several of his fingers behind. He turned the knife on Dwalin, imbedding it deep in the soldier's thigh before twisting the blade until the tendons snapped and popped under the pressure. Bifur moved to pull Dwalin out of danger, but not before Morgoth caught him and clawed at the right side of his face, leaving behind a loose flap of skin.

Bilbo stared at the carnage and willed himself to move. His friends were hurt, maybe dying, and all he could do was stand frozen in place. He was not a fighter. He should have told Thorin or Dwalin about the knife, they would have a better chance at succeeding. He had never felt so helpless. Unbidden, Mahal's words crept back into his mind: you already have everything you need... take heart... Summoning courage he didn't know he possessed, Bilbo reached into his jacket pocket and drew out the small knife he had been carrying since their race through the mines. The leather handle felt oddly warm in his hand and when he removed the blade form its sheath, the black iron seemed to glow in the torchlight. In front of him, only Thorin remained fighting, the rest of the company incapacitated, unconscious, or maybe worse. Bilbo didn't allow himself time to worry about the others, or even his own fate, as he clutched the knife in his hand.

"Why do you keep fighting?" Morgoth's voice reverberated deep within Bilbo's skull. "Why do you continue a battle you stand no chance of winning?"

"Because that's what we do." Bilbo took a step forward and tightened his grip on the knife handle. "That's what we'll always do when it comes to the people we love."

Thorin grappled with their foe, twisting and holding and not so much trying to fight as to simply restrain and survive. For a brief instant Morgoth's arms were pinned behind his back and that is when Bilbo struck- driving the black blade deep into his heart.

Morgoth's scream echoed off the dark walls as he arched his back and clawed frantically at the dagger. He fought back, sending Thorin to the ground and throwing Bilbo hard towards the far wall. As the world spiraled out of control, Bilbo locked eyes with Thorin and saw the confusion and betrayal on his friend's face. A sharp pain exploded as his back hit the wall and he struggled to get back to his feet, but a sudden wave of nausea kept him down. None of his limbs felt connected to his body and everything was much too loud. Bilbo tried to yell, but his lungs didn't appear to be working properly. He could hear his own breaths coming out in quick, shallow gasps, each one burning like dragon fire and making his head spin. He tried to move, to look for Thorin, but the world shifted and everything went black.

...

A/N: Morgoth's description is a modernized version of how he actually looks in Tolkien's cannon. I couldn't make that stuff up.

Bilbo's knife... I know a few people had really good guesses about the lore I pulled that from. If you're not familiar with the story of the Battle of Battles, you should totally at least Wiki it and read about Morgoth's downfall. It's a really interesting story. But I pretty much took the cannon idea and made it work with these characters.