A/N: Well, here is the end of it. I have been busy reading a rather long story on Fictionpress, and I was a bit delayed on this piece. Again, I am stealing from my other stories for this, but I won't blow the fun of the line.
Disclaimer: Tolkien is finally sighing a sigh of relief that the buthery of his story is finally over. Of course, he doesn't know what I am planning for his baby "The Lord of the Rings"!
Chapter 17: The Clouds Burst
Trumpets rang totally out of tune the next day. The Elvenking's hair was a total wreck, and it was more so with the bad musical statement that Bard's men were making. He groaned and rolled off of his cot and slammed face first into the dirt floor with a curse unbecoming of any elf much less the prissy wood elf. Oh well, it was time to get up and bargain with the bloody dwarves. Two hours after the wake up call, the Elvenking was dressed powdered perfumed and his hair had gotten out of its bad hair day zone. He joined the men and they went to Thorin and Company to do their bargaining bit.
"Hi there!" Bard proclaimed cheerfully to the rather tee'd off dwarves, who stood in a group glowering at the party.
"We want to bargain with your stubborn useless brains!" exclaimed the man who spoke for Bard.
"No bargaining," Thorin answered flatly.
"You owe me for messing up my hair. My hairdresser needs quite a few dollars to do his best. My wallet does not know if it can handle all these extra expenses. This whole thing is a very disturbing situation!" complained the Elvenking.
A light of mischief lit Thorin's eye. "I have a solution for you and your hair problems,. Stick your finger in an outlet. It can be a hair raising experience. That is my piece of advice to you. You will get nothing more from me except the possible exception of Bilbo."
"No thank you! It is because of your Bilbo that I am in such a tether!" Answered the Elvenking.
Bard's spokesman stood before Thorin, as Bard played Tiddly-winks with Dori, Ori, and Nori. "Maybe you say no bargain now, but we have something that you want," he told Thorin.
"Oh yeah," remarked Thorin, "Honestly, you can keep Bard."
Bard looked up at his name and gave a bright smile. He rummaged through his sack and came up with Bombur's stolen picture of Bertha and his own. He showed it to the gathered dwarves. Bombur gasped and cried out his despair of loss. The fat dwarf tugged at Thorin's sleeve. The royal dwarf grimaced and turned to his companion with a simple, "No."
Bard's spokesman stood forward with a hooded old man behind him. "Maybe you say no bargain now, but we do have something that you want," he told Thorin. The old man rubbed his hand in eager anticipation.
"Oh yeah?"demanded Thorin.
"Oh yeah," the man answered, "What do you say to the Arkenstone!" The old man revealed a rather skimpy leather g-string. The dwarves looked confused. The men turned interesting shades of red, and the elves were jealous. The hooded man threw the item to the cheering elves and pulled out the dazzling jewel.
Thorin growled some not very nice things, then he demanded, "How did your filthy hands get on my jewels!"
"By way of the hobbit," Bard answered happily.
"Bilbo!" cried out the dwarves.
The hobbit turned an interesting shade of red and pulled up his britches. Regaining his composure, he pointed to himself and asked, "Who me?" He tried to play innocent, but that is the last thing that a hobbit would be good at.
"Yeah you!" exclaimed Thorin, kicking Bilbo in a convenient nearby river. The hobbit sank, but to everyone's disappointment, he emerged some distance down the banks. At least, he didn't look happy about it.
"Is there no way to kill a hobbit?" complained Thorin.
"Call in the exterminator," suggested the Elvenking.
"No!" exclaimed the hooded man, as he threw off the hooded cloak that fluttered away and flew over bard's head as he flipped the winning wink. "I have something much more unpleasant planned for him."
The whole group looked at each other in a silent conference. Oh, why not. Gandalf was a heck of a lot cheaper than the exterminator at this trip.
"We will return tomorrow. If you do not have any gold for us, we'll mutilate you all and take it anyway," exclaimed the man.
They marched off in a proper rhythm to the badly playing trumpets. It did not take long for the next day to come. It was a dark and gloomy day with big black clouds to the north. No one thought anything of it, since Bilbo and Gandalf had that bean eating contest the night before.
Bilbo got up that day and stretched out his insignificant limbs. "Ah, it looks like it will be a lovely day today." Fili shrugged and kicked the hobbit off the mountain. This time the hobbit landed at the feet of Dain. The hobbit gave a little wave to the dour dwarf.
"Hey, Thorin! Your cousin is here!" He shouted at full volume, which is remarkably high for such a small rodent. There were three resulting earthquake as a result of his cry. Hobbits were given such amazing vocal chords as a protection against that impending exterminator threat.
Thorin pooped out of the mountain to wish Dain a hearty greeting. It made one wonder what he would have done if he were not pleased to see his cousin.
"Same to you, Thorin," Dain answered.
Thorin and Company soon joined Dain and Company. They had a small party, and they went to battle. They shot arrows at the elves' and men's camp. Bard jumped up in his normal happy way and began singing, "A battling we will go, a battling we will go, heigh ho a merry go, a battling we will go!"
The Elvenking fervently hoped that Bard would be among the first casualties of war. The Elvenking, for his part, was in a much better mood. He saw his hairdresser last night and he did look his best for the event. Just as everyone was ready to do battle and get this on and over with, Gandalf popped up in the middle of it.
"Party pooper!" complained Dain.
"Beware! The goblins come from the North to put a damper on your day. Bolg is their leader, and from what I have heard on the thorn vine, Nain, Dain's daddy, said a few obscene things to Azog, Bolg's daddy. They had a little spat, where Nain stabbed Azog then ran off with Bolg's mom. So, Bolg is here to say his obscenities, shish-kabob him, and run off with Dain's wife," Gandalf announced.
Dain shrugged. "He can have my wife. I have no need of her."
The armies stood around and waited. Well, sort of. Some of the dwarves, men, and elves had a merry little game of craps going on. Nori was taking down bets on who would win this war. The Elvenking felt the need to do his nails again, and his servant was jamming down with his walkman. It was not long before the first goblin appeared. He ran full force into the party, made a rude comment to the Elvenking, passed the whole party, then disappeared for awhile to places unknown. He soon returned, with a much relieved look on his face.
"I am the spokesman for our glorious king, master of terror and the amazing 27 way (Don't ask), his lord sliminess and crudeness, King Bolg of the North. We have a special invitation (that due to its frilliness, we figured came from the Elvenking here) to a special little shin dig going on at this very place . . . Actually, it was signed by a very unpleasant little wizardry person that we have done business with on the occasional occasion . . ."
At that instance, an arrow struck down this messenger, but a second messenger appeared to take his place and started the speech from where the other left off with a few added remarks not necessary to the context.
" . . . you people are not pleasant in the least little bit, and you talk about how we are party crashers and all . . . well, maybe we are, but . . ."
That sent another arrow. No one knew where these arrows were coming from, although Gandalf handed a crossbow back to a nearby elf. At that, the goblin army had finally arrived. The battle was ready to begin. After a very few name calling exchange, the men, elves and dwarves jumped in to fight with the goblins and wolves.
Bofur came face to face with a goblin that seemed strikingly familiar, especially since his weapon of choice was a cast iron skillet.
"Don't I know you?" asked Bofur as he squinted at his opponent.
"I think so. Weren't you captured a few months ago in the Misty Mountains with a smelly little rabbit thingie?" he asked.
"Yes," answered the dwarf.
"I'm the cook that got kind of tangled up with you guys, and you let me go!" he announced happily.
"Yeah. I remember you were the only one that made any sense out of the whole bunch. Sorry about your king."
The goblin shrugged. "Ah, that's all in the past, and we go through kings pretty quickly anyway. Hey! What say, we leave this silly story and pop down to the local pub for a couple of beers until this all blows over."
Bofur thought this over a bit and shrugged a why not. So, the two of them disappeared without anyone noticing.
Elsewhere at the battle ground, Bilbo was not faring too good. He ran into several close calls. This, as one may expect, brought about some more of his nervous breakdowns. Quickly and quietly, he placed the ring on his finger, picked everyone's pockets, then he crawled under a rock and let the nervous breakdown fly. A goblin, who heard this strange shrieking and screaming noise coming from an ordinary rock, beat the said rock with a club. The hobbit was casually banged on the head and fell unconscious. The goblin, satisfied that he had successfully killed the rock, kicked it for good measure and went on about his business of trying to kill the rest of the cast.
During the time that Bilbo was unconscious, the eagles came. They kindly came to pick up the goblins and drop them off at Long Lake . . . quite literately. They smelled bad, too, and they needed the bath. Since being dropped from 50,000 feet in the air didn't sit too well with the goblin, and they kind of splattered on impact and goblins were black blooded, the lake became henceforth called the Black Sea, although there was a great debate of the name. The dwarves wanted to name it "Drop It Here", and the elves came up with a fluffy cute name for it. The elves were told to go home and mind their own land. The dwarves' name was a good one, because of the sizeable dragon there and the many humans that he took down with his death, and now there were dead goblins there, too. What a smelly situation this was going to be come summer! Now Beorn showed up and carried off several screaming goblins including Bolg, who had fallen asleep during the battle. He had partied too hardy the night before. Anyway, now Beorn had resupplied his menu for his restaurant and he was happy. With the king of the opposite invading force gone, and the Elvenking returned to his hairdresser (The whole hairy situation had given him split ends), the war ended, and there was great rejoicing.