- Chapter 19 -

Blinking, Shyloh was confused. This wasn't what death felt like before. Where was the pain? Where was the taste of blood and stench of death? Where were those moans and voices coming from? She found she could move her arms and that surprised her the most.

Someone grabbed her and she felt herself get pulled upwards.

"Shy!" a voice cried and then suddenly the sky opened up as the pile of rocks that covered her fell away. Voices cried out, shouting other names and other voices answered with moans. Thorin's face met hers as he tried to pull her from the rubble. He didn't let go of her arm as she struggled to make her arms and legs work.

Next to her, Dwalin was pulling someone else out.

"Come on Shy," Thorin said as he pulled her the rest of the way out.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and with surprising strength he pulled her out the rest of the way from her rocky tomb as if she weighed nothing. Planting her feet firmly on the ground, he then turned to help pull Bifur out before turning back to her.

"Are you alright?" Thorin asked as she dusted herself off.

She met his eyes and it wasn't hard to see the concern written on his face.

"I think so," she said, and then as her face flamed she twisted around and glanced at the others. "Everyone else okay?"

"Surprisingly," Thorin said roughly, following her gaze.

"We need to find shelter," Dwalin cried as another heavy rumble of thunder came from above.

"Where's Bilbo?" Bofur asked, and they frantically looked around. A small yell came from the cliff side behind them and they scrambled to find him.

Hanging from the very cliff itself, was Bilbo.

The expression on his face as he clung for dear life was inescapably pure terror. Below his little frame, was absolutely nothing. The sheer cliff dropped off into a steep gorge and from way up high on their perch, the tree tops looked like little toothpicks. Bofur was the first to reach the hobbit and he stretched his hand out towards Bilbo, desperately trying to reach him. His arm was too short though and even Shyloh lay flat on the ground and stretched her arm but still, Bilbo was too far down.

As if he were Tarzan himself, Thorin practically jumped off the side of the cliff and with amazing skill, snatched Bilbo's outstretched arm with his hand. Once again, Shyloh was shocked by the sheer strength of the dwarf as he pulled Bilbo up towards safety as if he weighed nothing. Dwalin pulled Thorin back onto the ledge and with lots of huffs and happy shouts, Bilbo was pulled to safety.

"I thought we lost our burglar," Dwalin cried out, but Thorin only glared at the hobbit as poor Bilbo sat there panting.

"He's been lost ever since he left home. He should never have come. He has no place amongst us," Thorin said heavily, and Shyloh spun around wide eyed, tendrils of her soaked white hair plastering themselves to her face, not believing he meant what he said, especially considering Thorin just risked his own neck to save Bilbo.

But Thorin wasn't paying attention. He called for Dwalin to come forward and together the two of them led the way down the mountain. Shyloh followed behind Bilbo as they went, and gave him a sympathetic look. He looked a little disheartened but said nothing as he followed along with the company.

Finally, at long last, they came to a stop when they discovered a cave. They struggled to lite a torch and slowly, Thorin and Dwalin stepped inside. and when they gave the all clear, the rest of them flocked inside after them, desperate to get out of the cold rain.

It was a decent sized cave, with enough room for them all to lay down. Gloin rubbed his hands together and his beady little eyes surveyed the ground.

"Let's get a fire going," he said but Thorin was quick to act.

"No, no fires in this place. Get some sleep, we leave at first light. Bofur, you take first watch."

Disgruntled moans sounded but no one said anything as they did what they were told. Shyloh made sure her bedroll was close to Bilbo as they all found places to sprawl out. Before laying down though, she stepped over towards Thorin and sank down beside where he sat, giving him a sour look.

"You should not have said that to Bilbo earlier," she hissed and he gave her a hard look.

"I spoke the truth," he said in a low tone and she narrowed her eyes. "He has no skill in the wild."

"I'd wager there was a point in your life that you didn't either," she snapped so only he would hear. "He hasn't done anything to deserve your ridicule."

"When I want your opinion on the matter, I will ask for it.",

"I couldn't care less if you wanted it or not. In case you've forgotten, he's here to be your burglar, not a warrior."

Before he could reply, she stood suddenly and stepped away towards her bedroll, leaving him to stare at her back as she went. Without looking at him again, she sank to the ground and pulled her cloak around her, her back still facing Thorin. She wasn't going to let him get the last word in and she squeezed her eyes shut until she finally, at long last, fell asleep.

Movement beside her startled her awake and when she opened her eyes, Bilbo's little feet were leading him quietly away from his bed spot. Frowning, she thought it was odd he held his walking stick and then noticed the pack he carried on his back.

What on earth was he doing?

She was just about to call out to him but Bofur beat her to the punch, and it was clear the hobbit had forgotten the watchman.

"Where are you going?"

Spinning around, Bilbo's face went from shocked to surprised, to regretful in a matter of seconds when he saw who it was, and as he readjusted the pack on his back, he fixed Bofur with a firm look.

"Back to Rivendell," Bilbo said calmly and Bofur looked completely surprised.

"No! No you can't turn back now," Bofur pleaded. "You're part of the company."

Bilbo sighed heavily. "I'm not though, am I?"

Bofur's shoulders sagged and he tilted his head.

"Thorin was right, I should never have come. I'm a Baggins, not a Took. I don't know what I was thinking. I should never have walked out my door."

Shyloh's eyes drifted towards Thorin and she knew instantly that he was awake and clearly listening. He met her gaze and she gave him a cold look, silently telling him this was all his fault.

"You're homesick," Bofur whispered and then he gestured to himself. "I understand that."

"No, you don't!" hissed Bilbo. "You're dwarves you're used to this life, to living on the road; not belonging anywhere."

She watched Bofur's reaction carefully but Bilbo's words seemed to have struck a nerve.

"You're right," Bofur said, his eyes trailing over his companions almost sadly. "We don't belong anywhere."

Bilbo opened his mouth and gestured as if he were trying to apologize but nothing seemed to come out.

"I wish you all the luck in the world," Bofur said, turning back to the speechless hobbit. "I truly do."

Bilbo gave him a nod but before the hobbit could take two steps away, Bofur stopped him again, and pointed to Bilbo's sword.

"Whats that?" he asked. Bilbo slowly pulled his sword from its sheath, the blade glowing bright blue, illuminating the cave.

The first thing she heard was a hissing sound coming from beneath her, as if a large snake were slithering over the stone ground. It sent a heavy chill up her spine and an alarm went off in her head. Obviously she wasn't the only one because Thorin bolted upright.

"Get up!" he cried out. "Get up!"

The dwarves jerked awake as if a bell went off. The ground was practically splitting beneath them but before they could scramble out of the way, they fell.

Together, all fifteen of them fell through the sudden gap in the ground as if it were a living thing and they were being swallowed whole. Heads banged against each other and bodies collided as they fell as one through the gaping hole into the pit below. Someone's boot struck her right cheek and she winced in pain as they came to a rolling stop on top of each other.

Groans and gasps for air came from all around her as she struggled to straighten herself out. Yanking her arm out from under Bombur's large frame, she nearly took Dwalin's eye out with her elbow. The screeching came next and the sound split through the air like razor sharp daggers before they could even grasp what just happened.

"Goblins!" someone cried, and before they knew it they were surrounded. Hands grabbed them before they could reach for their weapons and suddenly she was being pulled along mercilessly first to her feet and then with the dwarves down a narrow rope bridge by her hair and arms. Goblin hands attached themselves to her and try as she might, she wasn't able to twist out of their grasp.

Torches lit the way and as Shyloh gathered her barrings, she discovered there were in fact, hundreds of goblins, each one as foul looking as the next. Their skin was caked with dirt and the smell made her stomach lurch. Drums banged above them as the goblin city opened up before their very eyes.

Goblins screeched and snapped and pulled them along without a care. Up, up, up they climbed the wooden bridge and her heart dropped at the sight before them. They were pulled along until they were one by one tossed into the center of a landing practically on top of each other. They stumbled and fell and scrambled until they were all huddled together, surrounded by ranks of horrible looking goblins.

"Down, down, down, to goblin town!" they sang, their awful voices echoing through the mountain and she wanted desperately to cover her ears.

Before them, dancing and waving its arms wildly was none other than the goblin king himself. He was five times the size of the other goblins, and his wide belly hung over his lower parts like a slimy blob. Upon his head was a spiked crown and in his hands was a long, sharp ended spear she assumed he used like a staff. As he danced and sang he speared a goblin straight through its middle and then with a flick of his wrist the squealing goblin was tossed clear across the cavern like a pebble.

Fear engulfed her completely as she stared at the monstrous creature before them. He spun around a few times like a ballerina dancer, his arms spread wide and his massive head thrown back as he sang what she assumed would be the last verse of his song. The goblins cheered and then all went silent as he ended his tune.

"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?" the king asked as he leaned forwards. "Spies? Thieves? Assassins?"

"Dwarves, your malevolence," answered a goblin.

"Dwarves?"

"Found 'em on the front porch."

"Well don't just stand there," the king said looking around. "Search them! Every crack, every crevice."

The goblins descended on them once again in a flurry of movement and began pulling the dwarves weapons off forcefully. They grabbed Shyloh's bow and quiver and her sword, and tossed them in the pile already started.

"It is my belief your malevolence," said a goblin as he held up a fancy looking candle stick. "That they are in liege with elves!"

Shyloh's insides ran cold and her stomach dropped. Her eyes widened and she met Thorin's panicked expression. How on earth did elvish candlesticks end up in the dwarves bags!

"Elves?" The king reached out and snatched up the candle stick, then twisted it around to look at the bottom. "Made in Rivendell, second age." With a flick of his wrist the candlestick went flying. "Couldn't even give it away. What are you doing in these parts?"

The dwarves were silent and Dwalin grabbed her arm and pulled her down and Thorin stepped in front of her as if to keep her out of sight from the goblin king.

"If they will not talk, we'll make them squawk! Bring up the mangler! Bring up the bone breaker!" the king demanded. "Start with the youngest, no..." as the goblin kings eyes fell on her he went still. "Start with the prettiest."

If Shyoh's insides were cold earlier it was nothing to how she felt now. Goblin hands reached for her suddenly and snatched her from behind, and the dwarves leapt into action, crying out in protest, trying to pry the goblins hands off of her as she was dragged to the front of the platform.

"An elf!" the king shouted. "How interesting." His malicious smile made her stick her feet out as if she could stop herself from being pulled forwards. Her legs were kicked out from underneath her and she fell to her knees. Her head was yanked back and the king slowly stepped towards her, his eyes glinting like tiny little beads.

"Well, well, well," said the king, and he reached out a short fat finger and traced the side of her face. "What do we have here? An elf traveling with dwarves! How interesting indeed. Such a pretty little thing. It's a shame I have to break your bones now."

His hand wrapped around her neck and she instantly felt her airway get cut off.

"Wait!" cried a voice and heavy boot steps behind her made the king loosen his hold enough to let her breath.

"Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, king under the mountain," announced the goblin king. "But I'm forgetting; your not a king, and you don't have a mountain. So that makes you...nobody, really."

His grip tightened again on her throat and she tried to pry his hands off of her but it was like trying to move a tree.

"I know someone that would pay a pretty price for your head. Just the head, nothing attached. Perhaps you remember him? A pale orc, astride a white wag."

"Azog, the Defiler, was slain in battle years ago," Thorin's voice shook just the slightest and she shot him a pleading look as she felt the air slip away from her slowly.

"So you think his defiling days are over do you?" the king asked casually. Then he turned to a horribly deformed looking miniature goblin, who sat in a bucket swinging from a rope that stretched out over the emptiness below them. "Send word to the pale orc, I have found his prize," Then, the king slowly turned to look at the elf he was slowly suffocating. "and more."

The world started slowly spinning as the king stared down hungrily at her, and he raised her high enough her feet dangled in the air.

"Such a pretty thing," he said softly, but then the smile crept back into his eyes and his grip tightened and dots began blurring her vision.

At first, she thought she had passed out completely. The white light was blinding and it filled up the entire cavern so brilliantly that she was sure death had finally come. The grip around her throat released and she fell to the ground in a heap, coughing and sputtering. It escaped her knowledge that the rest of the dwarves and goblins were also on their backsides by a force they couldn't explain. It was as if a giant hand backhanded them all as they were thrust to the ground.

Dazed, ringing filled her ears as she gasped for air. She felt a heavy hand grab her arm and a familiar voice met her ears.

"Take up arms!" he said. "Fight! Fight!"

In a flurry of movement, she was being dragged to her feet as metal on metal clanged and new desperate shouts erupted around her.

"Go Shy!" Thorin pulled her forwards. Snapping out of her daze, she quickly realized who the gray figure in front of them was.

Gandalf had arrived and not a moment too soon. As the burning in her chest slowly subsided, she vaguely remembered picking up her weapons from the pile and shouldering them as Thorin pushed her after Gandalf, who led the way through the goblin tunnels.

A fresh wave of panic filled them as they ran and the goblins closed in on their heels as if they were wolves hunting their prey. They screeched and lunged at the company but the dwarves were quicker. They swung their axes and swords with all their might, beheading goblins and killing them before they themselves were pulled down into the depths of the caves. They crossed wooden bridges that swung dangerously over open air. They slid down embankments and ran down paths that never seemed to end. Through the city they ran with all their might.

When a massive form fell from above and blocked their path, Gandalf brandished Glamdring and in two quick thrusts, the goblin king was killed and he fell backwards. A shove from behind made her move and she forced her legs to keep running. They tumbled down a wooden platform and then in a snap the wooden planks broke out from beneath them.

They fell a ways before colliding with the cavern wall and she felt the air get knocked out of her again. Desperately she gasped for more air as they fell on each other in a big heap.

"Uh, Gandalf!" Bofur cried as he pointed up the rock wall above them. Hundreds of goblins scaled the rocky walls, descending as quickly as they could towards the company.

"Only one thing will save us now!" Gandalf cried as he pulled them out of the heap. "Daylight! Run!"

Pulling themselves out of the heap, they scrambled as fast as their poor bodies could go, racing through the tunnel Gandalf was leading them down. A light ahead gave them new hope and they pushed forwards with renewed energy.

Stepping out into the daylight the dwarves literally tripped over one another as they raced through the trees as their eyes adjusted to the brightness of the day. Gandalf only stopped them when they were a safe distance from the mountain hole and he spun around and with his pointer finger, he said their names as if he were counting to himself.

Shyloh's legs gave out and she collapsed to the ground at Dwalin's feet. He laid a heavy hand on her shoulder but held her steady as she gathered her bearings.

"Where is Bilbo? Where is our hobbit?" demanded Gandalf suddenly and she looked around the space they had come to stop in. She looked at each individual dwarf but there was no hobbit to be found. "Where is our hobbit?"

"Curse the hobbit!" Dwalin cried. "Now he's lost? I thought he was with Dori."

"Don't blame me!" Dori snapped.

"Well where did you last see him?" asked Gandalf.

"I think I saw him slip away when they first cornered us!" said Nori.

"Well what happened exactly?" the wizard demanded.

"I'll tell you what happened," Thorin said suddenly, stepping forwards. His tone was icy and his eyes narrowed. "Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it. He's thought of nothing but his soft bed and warm hearth since he first stepped out his door. We will not be seeing our burglar again. He's long gone."

Disappointing silence followed Thorin's little speech and Shyloh glared at him with an icy stare.

"He's had every right to think of those things," she snapped and Thorin spun around to look at her. "Who wouldn't want any of that? It's not called home for nothing. He's not gone."

She knew there was a very slim chance she was right, that Bilbo hadn't escaped for home when he had the chance, but she knew the looks on the faces of the dwarves meant they didn't believe her, as much as she desperately wanted it to be right.

"Nope, he's not gone," said a voice and they all spun around. Her heart leaped at the sight of the hobbit and a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"Bilbo Baggins!" Gandalf sighed in relief. "I've never been so glad to see anyone in my whole life."

Shyloh's eyes drifted to Thorin and she thought the dwarf looked upset by the sight of their burglar.

"How on earth did you get past the goblins?" Fili asked, clearly stunned.

"How indeed?" Dwalin mused, and he gave her shoulder a little shake.

Bilbo shifted awkwardly on his feet but then tucked his fingers inside the little pockets of his vest and gave a small laugh.

"Well what does it matter?" asked Gandalf almost a little too cheerfully. "He's back."

"It matters," Thorin said suddenly. "I want to know. Why did you come back?"

"I know you doubt me, I know you always have," Bilbo explained. "And your right I often think of Bag End. I miss my books, and my armchair, and my garden. See that's where I belong; that's home to me. That's why I came back, cause, you don't have one; a home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can."

Shyloh gave Bilbo a soft smile as he met her eyes and his lopsided grin grew slowly on his face. The dwarves were for once rendered silent as Bilbo's words sank in.

Home.

The thought of home grew inside the minds of everyone that stood there and they were once again reminded why they were on this journey. She looked over at Gandalf and he looked at her under his bushy eyebrows with a humbled expression.

The peacefulness didn't last long though, because a howl split through the air like the swipe of a blade and they all jumped. She rose to her feet, hands gripping her weapons tightly. The sound of a warg howl was not unfamiliar to any of them.

"Out of the frying pan," started Thorin.

"And into the fire!" finished Gandalf. "Run!"

So they ran.