This was originally intended for WritersMonth2021.
It was inspired by Prompt 25. Fairy Tale
I know it is not August anymore, but it took me awhile to get the story where I wanted it.
It features a very young Prince Thorin, and what it might have been like to grow up as heir to the throne of Erebor.
Once upon a time, there was a great city under a mountain, and in it there lived a prince. Now, he was a very special prince, and the king took great pains to keep him safe. He decreed that he should not venture out of the city, but always remain under the mountain where he could be well guarded. The palace was large and beautiful, with rooms beyond counting, and the city was grand and orderly, with wide streets and plazas and fountains and many people coming and going. The prince was very happy there and never bored. He had his brother and sister to keep him company, and was kept very busy by his tutors. A curious boy, he was always exploring the halls of the palace, the side streets, the mine tunnels that went on and on. Sometimes he heard men talk about the Wild, the land outside the city, but when he asked if he could go there he was always told 'When you are older.'
One evening the prince was walking back from his weapons class, swinging his sword, when he saw a group of workmen come out of a door he had never seen open before. The prince waited until they were out of sight, then crept closer. It was a very ordinary sort of door, the type that led to a closet or a boring storage room. He touched it and it swung silently inward. The workers had not closed it properly! He could see a long, low tunnel leading up. The prince thought he had explored every part of the palace, but this was new. He quickly stepped inside, feeling for the latch in the dark. Spotting a still glowing torch on the floor, he waved it to get it blazing again.
It was a small passage, just three men wide and a man and a half tall, the sides smooth and finished. He followed it a long way, it went up and up, sometimes very steeply, with several changes of direction. The prince began to wonder how long he had been walking, looked back the way he had come, and just at that moment the floor fell away in front of him. He grasped for something to break his fall as he tumbled down a short flight of stairs, then hit a door that gave way at his touch. Suddenly he was lying on something soft and damp, a dim silver light shining in his eyes. The air was sharp, he could smell damp earth and many other things he could not name. He lay still for a long moment, trying to comprehend where he was. It had to be the Wild, but it was stranger than he had ever imagined.
After a moment he sat up and saw a wall of smooth stone in front of him. The door had closed! This was very bad because doors that led to the Wild were invisible when closed. For some you needed a password, for others a key, but if you did not know exactly where the latch was you could never open it. The prince became very afraid. He was outside his city for the first time with no idea where he was! No one knew where he had gone, they might not find him for days. He felt like crying, but then he remembered that princes do not cry. Princes are strong, and decisive, and do not feel sorry for themselves.
"Well, well, well, what have we here?" A low gravelly voice.
The prince looked around and saw a group of goblins materialize out of the shadows. They came up close around him, poked him with their swords.
"A Dwarfling!" One of the others sniffed. "Not much meat on it, but it will make a meal."
"What's it doing here?" Another asked. "Where'd it come from?"
Now you must know that goblins are cruel and wicked creatures. They live underground, the same as the prince's people, and also mine and forge and can make clever things, but they are lazy and untidy in their ways. They have great love of gold and precious things, preferring to take them from others than to work at finding it themselves. The prince knew about goblins, all children were told the stories. He stayed silent, thinking furiously. He had his sword, but he could not defeat all of them. And if he tried to fight, they would kill him for sure. He had to think of another way to escape.
"It has fancy clothes," another goblin said. "Maybe it has gold, too."
"We can't stop," said goblin who had first spoken. "Tie it up and bring it along!"
The goblins tied his arms and legs, not very well, one of them slung the prince over his shoulder. They started down the mountain on a narrow path. You must remember, this was the first time the prince had been in the Wild and it was all very strange and new to him. This was the first time he had traveled under the open sky, heard the wind in the trees, seen the slopes of the mountain he had lived under all his life. He had heard about these things, but they were quite different in real life. The goblins seemed to be in a hurry, he saw the sky was turning grey and guessed the sun was soon to rise. The prince worked at his bonds, trying to loosen them, while he listened to their talk.
The goblins were from the Misty Mountains, where a great many of them lived. They were on their way to the Iron Hills on some errand and were not at all happy about it. They grumbled about having to go so far, and didn't anticipate being well paid for their work. This gave the prince an idea.
"You will have gold, if you take me with you to the Iron Hills," the prince told them. The goblin carrying him almost dropped him in surprise.
"I thought you gagged that thing!" Said the first goblin, who seemed to be the leader.
"You were the one in such a hurry," grumbled the other. "Gold, you say?"
"Gold. Silver," the prince said. "My father will pay a rich reward."
"The only reward we will get is the loss of our heads," replied the leader. "Which we will also lose if we are caught on this mountain. Now, gag the Dwarfling and let's get moving!"
"I want to hear what it has to say," said another goblin. "Might make this trip worth it."
The prince looked at the goblins around him. He very much did not want to be eaten, and he had an idea how he might trick them. He could see he had their attention, now he had to come up with a story.
"My father is king in the Iron Hills," he told them confidently. "I am a prisoner here, to force my father to keep an agreement and to pay tribute. By chance I found a tunnel that led here, but I have no way to get home."
The goblins looked at each other. "If your father would pay to get you back, what would the King Under the Mountain pay to keep you, I wonder?" The goblin leader asked.
The prince let his eyes go wide, shaking his head. "You must take me to the Iron Hills! I cannot go back there! My father will pay double!"
"I say we eat him," said the goblin who had been carrying him.
"Not so fast," said the leader. "How do we know you're telling the truth?"
"The sword you took from me," the prince replied confidently. It had been a gift from the King of the Iron Hills, it was in their style. "And this ring." He offered them the ring he had received for his eighth birthday.
The leader drew out the sword they had taken from him, another grabbed his ring. They stood examining them closely and talking amongst themselves, their captive momentarily forgotten. The prince had already freed his hands, pretending he was still tied he worked at the ropes on his ankles. As he listened to the goblins arguing he saw two things: the sky was turning pink and there was a wide road of stone just a short distance below him. He was fairly certain he could get to the road before the goblins caught him, but which way should he run?
The goblin's voices had been getting louder, the leader wanted to take their captive to the King Under the Mountain, the goblin who had been carrying him was complaining they had nothing to eat for days, another wanted the ring. The prince took out his purse, which he still had because the goblins had been in too much of a hurry to search him. Inside were some gold coins and quite a few gems he had acquired by doing well in his lessons. The prince decided it was now or never. He tossed them into the circle of goblins and saw them go down in a heap, grabbing at the gems, punching and kicking at each other. Quick as he could he slid down the slope to the road, then hesitated. Where was his city?
A big black bird flew right by his head. "This way!" It called to him.
The prince ran after the bird, hearing the shrieks of the angry goblins. He didn't dare look, just ran as fast as he could. Then he saw a flock of the black birds flying up the road towards him, and right at his pursuers. The prince looked back, the goblins were close behind, flailing at the cloud of black wings that surrounded them.
"Hurry, hurry!" The bird he was following came back and circled around. The prince put his head down and ran, his heart pounding in his chest. As you know, Dwarves are small, but also strong and fast. Over a short distance one can easily outrun a goblin, especially if there was a threat of being eaten.
As the sun was rising the prince ran out of the trees. There before him were the great gates of his city, sunlight just touching the top. They towered over the mountain vale, intricately carved, braziers lit, flanked by huge statues of his ancestors. The prince stopped and stared.
"Have you not seen it before?" Asked a voice at his feet. The prince looked down at the bird he had been following. He saw now it was a raven, wearing a necklace of fine golden rings.
"No. I have never been outside the gates. It's beautiful," he said. He looked back over his shoulder, there was no sign of the goblins. "Are we safe?"
"The sun is up," said the bird, wagging its tail. "Now they will look only for somewhere to hide."
The prince could see the road he was on led to the gate. Feeling much relieved, he started walking. The raven kept pace beside him.
"Thank you for your help," the prince said. He knew that Kings used ravens to send messages, but he had never spoken to one. He guessed by the necklace this was a special bird.
"It is my honor, your highness," the bird said. "Though you did most of it yourself."
"I guess I did," the prince smiled. He started to feel a bit proud of himself that he had escaped the goblins. "Who do I have to thank, noble bird?"
"I am Carc, chief of the King's ravens," the bird replied.
The prince told the raven all that had happened as they walked to the city gate. As he talked the prince began to realize how much trouble he was in. He was not supposed to be outside the city, he had lost his sword, and his ring. He wasn't even sure how long he had been gone.
"What is wrong, your highness?" Carc asked.
"I'm in such trouble," the prince said. "I will be sent to my room for a month!"
"Why would your father do that? These goblins kidnapped you, hoping to hold you for ransom," replied the bird, blinking his eyes. "If there is fault, it is on those who left the door open for the goblins to find."
This made the prince laugh. "Clever bird! I name you Carc the Wise, and I will bring you whatever treat you desire!"
"My only desire is that we meet again, your highness," said Carc, bowing low. "In better circumstances."
Upon his return to the palace, the prince did not get sent to his room after all. The story was already spreading through the city of how he had been kidnapped and cleverly made his escape. His father was especially proud, and told the story to everyone he met. The prince got to eat desert for breakfast, and his siblings were very jealous.
Sometime later, he was able to sneak into his grandfather's study to give Carc a juicy mouse. When the prince was older, Carc showed him the paths of the mountain, and taught him the ways of the Wild.
But that is another story.