Hey everyone. I have meant to update sooner than this, but a lot came up. First and foremost finals are done and I now officially have my Bachelor's Degree in Biomedical Sciences! I have officially graduated from my undergraduate program! YAY! I know most of you probably don't care, but it's a pretty big deal for me.

Also my family showed up from California, I hadn't seen them in two years and we got to spend a week together which is awesome. Then I had a massive fight with my roommates about whether we were gonna break lease or stay. I just got that figured out last week thank god. A month of unnecessary stress.

I'm back to working 40 hours a week, but that should be my only thing now until I prep my applications for grad school in October. So the biweekly thing should be back now…Maybe. I always say that then RL happens so we'll see. Sorry it's a little short this time, but at least it's something.

Anyway! Thank you to everyone who favorited and followed! And a special thank you so much for your reviews. Every kind word is appreciated – and constructive criticism is welcome.

angel897, Christina Fey, PrimusNobility, Annelf, and ThePhantomismtLove – Thank you for the kind words and I hope you like this part!

xXxBloody-KitsunexXx – I'm glad you like the flashbacks. I want you to be able to know Tahna without having to hear her explain it to everyone. The vague stories she tells the dwarves keeps her secrets, but we see everything in her flashbacks. I just feel it fits her character. I hope you like Goblin Town and as for Mirkwood…be very afraid.

LauraJenkins – Thank you so much for your kind words. I try to make it descriptive enough to picture it without boring anyone. I'm glad to know I've succeeded J. I also thought that the dwarves should have been flushed out which I was so glad to see Jackson do in the movies and it helped me in what I hope is developing their characters. As to you being an actress: That is awesome and your words made me blush. I hope all is well and best of luck with your work. I may not have first hand experience, but I know that it has to be tough. Therefore, this part is for you! I hope you like it.

ro781727 – Just so you know I am working on the Iglishmek problem as I write this. I have an idea that I hope is both clever and you will like. It's taking a little more time to get it fixed, but as I promised it will be fixed before they reach Beorn's.

I've decided to do a story recommendations corner for my lovely friends here on FF. Since you're here for Thorin/OC I will only recommend those unless otherwise requested. I have a few good Fili, Kili, and Dwalin ones on file. I really wish there were more Bilbo/OC, but meh…I will do two incomplete so you can follow along with the journey. And one complete for those who are impatient = (Me…Most days…)

QueefCream's story: Lians' Contingency. *Complete*

Lesliezin: A Shadowed Companion. *Incomplete: Updated: 5/27/16

JensPen (previously JMac322): The World Ahead. *Incomplete: Updated: 5/20/16

At first, I thought I was imagining the shifting noise that I hear. Then I think that perhaps it's just one of the boys turning in their sleep. I am ashamed to say that I only wake when Thorin shouts at us to move…for the second time. This lethargy seems determined to condemn me as I am too sluggish to move quickly. Even as the floor gives out beneath us, I fumble unable to regain any of my balance. Luckily where I fail, Fili is alert; he grabs me as we fall and tries to curl me into him as much as possible with his smaller stature. My head is awkwardly tucked under his chin and his shoulders fold inward, acting as my shield. His legs manage to surround my hips, waist, and some of my legs now that I am actively trying to tuck into him. His arms wrap around me, trying to cover as many of my ribs as possible and his hands cradle my shins.

I feel the vibrations as Fili takes the first collision with the stone wall of the trap we have fallen into. Fili is taking the brunt of the beating and every hit results in a small grunt from his throat. At one point my shins and elbows are grazed by the rough surface so Fili tries to tuck me in closer. I feel my heart beating rapidly as I cannot help worrying about him as we bash against the stone walls. He didn't scream in pain. In fact, none of the others do, but it doesn't ease my worries. I know my human body would break under the dwarves' circumstance, regardless of my dark metal armor. I can only hope that my friends have bodies with stronger constitutions than mine.

At one point I very nearly hit the stone face first, but Fili shifts quickly and I only scrape my cheek along the cold surface. It stings and I have no doubt there is a little blood, but I ignore it as we fall further. The terrifying drop is over quickly as we reach the end of a stone funnel where we are piled into a small alcove. One side is lined with pointy, jagged metal that seems to have started to rust. The other side leads to a small wooden bridge. Fili lands behind me, his back pinned against the metal. I can hear him take a hiss of breath when Bombur lands and forcing the other dwarves into Fili. My concern returns fiercely.

"Fili, are you alright?"

He smiles down on me, "Just some nasty bruises; Nothing to worry about. After all, Mahal did make us out of stone. It would take a far longer drop than that to hurt us." Even as he speaks he winces slightly. I want to talk with him about it, but he doesn't appear horribly hurt so I will let it pass. We will need to move soon. "What about you?" he asks as he eyes my cheek.

"I'm fine; thanks to you. Bruises and scrapes only I think. I don't know why I'm so…slow. It's strange," I respond. He gives me a nod and then starts looking around the pile.

"Kili?"

"Over here."

Kili is only a couple feet away, pinned between the metal and the great pile of dwarf bodies. Thorin is strewn across Kili's lap as he tries to reestablish some semblance of dignity. I note that his hair is askew and looks quite angry, but uninjured so I avoid staring. I turn back to Kili and he doesn't seem much worse than his brother, but I worry like a ninny nonetheless.

"You alright?"

"You know the stone around here ain't that bad. It's a shame that it tried to embed itself in my ass," he chuckles. Without intending, a smile spreads on my face as Kili makes a tormented grimace and pretends to rub his backside. At least I know he's alright. It makes it easier to know dwarves are as tough as the very mountain they live under. We humans are unfortunately a little more delicate. Bilbo and I will probably be…wait!

"Bilbo!" I call.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me," his voice carries from over Bombur's bulk. Another puff of breath escapes me in relief; at least I think it is. My stomach is tight and I feel breathless like something has gone taut within me and making breathing painful. What is going on?

"GOBLINS!"

Despite that I cannot see him, I can hear Dwalin's cry near the front of the group. I can't see the goblins either, but I can hear their approaching shrieks and snarls. The members of the company shift as they struggle to right themselves and collect their weapons, but the imps are far too fast. They overwhelm us and manage to advance so far into our pile that I can see them. Grey flesh that blends in the stone around us, narrow eyes, and uneven teeth. Some carry weapons though most prefer to use their claws.

As they rush us, Fili pushes me behind him and I can see Thorin doing the same for Kili. Thorin is the first of us four to be taken, quickly followed by Kili. Fili tries to reach his younger brother with one of his dual swords raised. He does manage to kill one assailant, but five more topple him. I only manage to get my hand on the hilt of Locelnehtar, but before I can draw I am taken by surprise by two goblins that managed to climb over the back of the alcove. They pin my hands behind me and force me forward behind Thorin who is trying to charge after his sister sons. At the front of our train I can see Bifur putting up a valiant fight with nothing, but his fists. I am shoved and prodded forward along the rickety bridge, unable to turn around and fight back. From behind me I can hear Dwalin's war cries as he tries to attack the enemy and only manages to propel us onward.

As we are tugged along I can see the stone is jagged, very unlike the craftsmanship seen in dwarven strongholds. I recall the halls of Ered Luin being a thing of wonder; every hall a sea of colorful stone along the walls and every column a proud blending of the emblems of the three dwarf clans in the west. Nothing remotely similar between the two of them. And while I didn't spend much time on admiring the halls, even Gundabad had better architecture. The wood beneath us creaks under the strain as we pass over. It's shoddy and dry – I can feel the looming threat of it falling out beneath us every time we pass. Goblins are tiny, compact, and built for speed; the bridges may suite their needs, but we are not nearly so light.

The place reeks of death in the still mountain air. There is no real ventilation inside this mountain, which makes sense; I doubt the current residence have the capacity to make anything too complex. My thoughts of death are confirmed by the lining of bones everywhere. The remains show that all three races have been victims to these abominations over the past several years; including some of their brethren. The bones line every flat surface, several skulls are stacked on pikes, and some of the imps even wear them.

Something from above strikes me in the head and I cry out in pain as it lands where my previous injury rests beneath the bandages. Everyone in the company looks at me; I can feel their worried stares on my form. The warm trickle on the side of my face tells me that my head wound has once again opened and begun to bleed. Thorin tries to knock the goblin nearest to me off the platform, but two others hold him back and push him forward along the bridge. His growl fades into a ringing noise inside my ears. I look up to see what hit me. Up above there are several hobgoblins either clinging to the cavern walls or on other precarious looking bridges. They are throwing things at all of us; some bones, a few rocks, and other things I won't care to mention. Regardless, one of them managed to get me where it counts.

Suddenly, my ears clear and I can hear the deep beating of drums. A great open chasm is before us – the walls lined with a patchwork of wooden ledges lining every inch of the walls. There is a large platform in the center of the space being held up by two points of jutting stone. It gave the vague appearance that the dais is being eaten by a wereworm. My head pounds with the drums, my body aches, and despite the frightening situation I am tired beyond reason. The freezing rain and severe winds on the mountainside may have been viable reasons before, but now I have no idea what is affecting me. What in Eru's name is going on?

It is then that a shrill noise cuts in from above us. It is momentarily blocked again as the ringing noise takes up residence in my head once more. However, when the sound returns there is a new cacophony in the air. Is that…singing? Maybe it is croaking, but whatever it is it reverberates off of the walls and does its best to make my ears bleed.

Clap, Snap, the black crack

Grip, Grab, pinch, and nab

Batter and beat,

Make em' stammer and squeak!

Thankfully, the sound drowns out once more with the ringing sound. I may not like the elves, but right now I would listen to an entire play of elvish love sickness than hear that. As we get closer to the main platform I begin to half wish I was blind as well. Standing, singing, and dancing in the center of said dais is clearly the Great Goblin. He has also been taken to being called the Goblin King by those he rules and terrorizes. He spins and twirls to his own music – a large, wooden staff adorned with an animal skull of some sort in his hand. He wears a crown decorated with the teeth of mountain predators and rope. His entire body is covered in layers of fat – boils and pustules covering several inches of the large surfaces. There is also a rash consuming the right side of his face. His pointed ears stick out from behind the wispy strands of pale, white hair growing from his head. His fingernail and toenails are black from infection which has likely settled in all of his nail beds. The Great Goblin's eyes have yellow hue that reminds me greatly of piss in the snow. Despite this unfortunate sight, I am ever thankful for the single loincloth around his waist.

I can feel myself wobbling even though we have stopped before the dancing mass. Now that we are standing still my hearing returns and nausea fills my belly that has nothing to do with either the location or the present company.

You can yammer and yelp

But there ain't no help

Pound, pound far underground

Down, down, down in Goblin Town.

He pauses momentarily to look at us with a menacing glare before taking a seat on his makeshift, wooden throne. He turns back to look at us with an evil smirk on his face.

"Catchy, isn't it?" he asks. "It's one of my own compositions."

"It's not a song," Balin speaks up from behind me as I sway slightly from the volume of his voice, "It's an abomination." Unfortunately, this only made his loyal servants cheer loudly, further aggravating my uncoordinated state. The nausea spikes and I stand behind Thorin and Oin in hopes of keeping the contents of my stomach in place.

"Abominations, mutations, and deviations; that's all you're gonna find down here," he grins as smaller goblins create a pile of our weapons near the thing's feet. "You are quite bold as to come armed into my kingdom. The only people in these parts with such weapons are spy, thieves, or assassins. So tell me which are you?"

"You have to speak up, lad," calls Oin. "Your boys have flattened me trumpet."

"I'll flatten more than your trumpet," threatens the Great Goblin.

"If it's more information you're wanting, I'm the one you should speak to!" says Bofur placatingly. "We were on the road…well, it's not so much a road as a path…actually, it's not even that, come to think of it, it's more like a track. Anyway, the point is we were on this road, like a path, like a track, and then we weren't! Which is a problem, because we were supposed to be in Dunland last Tuesday." Several of the others start shouting off pieces of information as thought it would help, but it only stirs the angry buzzing in my head.

"Silence!" calls the Great Goblin before he looks down at us angrily, "You're a good way from Dunland, my friend." Another of their number comes forward with one of our packs. The contents are expelled to reveal an array of elvish cutlery and candlesticks.

"They appear to be in league with the elves, my liege," says the little one with a face reminiscent of a rat. Clambering to his stubby feet, the "king" examines a golden candelabrum and turns it over.

"Made in Rivendell?" he says. He examines it a little further. "Bah – Second Age; couldn't give it away!" He tosses it over his shoulder and into the depths below.

I don't even have to look to know Nori is responsible. I noticed when he filched the silverware at dinner, I would have been more surprised if he had stopped there. I'm sure it's his brother's harsh stare that causes him to say, "Just a couple of keepsakes." As if Dori would be happy with whatever answer he could give right now.

"I'll only ask once more. What are you dwarves doing in these parts?" the Great Goblin asks. No one answers this time and the quiet tells the him all he needs. "Very well; if they will not talk we'll make them squawk. Bring up the Mangler! Bring up the Bone Breaker! Start with…well hello. You are no dwarf."

I panic for a moment think he found Bilbo, but then I felt his eyes on me. I thought I would have stood out before now, but I had unconsciously been hunching over in preparation to spill my guts. Thankfully, during the duration of the conversation I have managed to regain some of my stability and with any luck Bilbo is hiding amongst the dwarves or managed to get out before we were captured. When I meet his eyes, his searching gaze turns to a fearful and angry one.

"This no dwarf, my lads," he says addressing his subjects. "What we have here is a ranger and not just any ranger, mind. This is the Golden-Eyed ranger, The Scourge. The last of Imelkane's spawn, The Desolate One. This is a surprise indeed." The goblins around us begin to hiss at me furiously, but I can't bring myself to lose focus of the hulking mass. Since the death of Gijak, I have been called these sinister titles by the numerous dark fiends that I have slain. No one, but the creatures of the dark know these names. While impressive I do not bare them with any semblance of pride. What does it say about a person when even the monsters are afraid of you? Is that the way anyone would want to live; feared by all?

"It is a surprise," I state boldly. "I hoped you and your people would have been so far buried beneath these mountains that you wouldn't have access to the surface; especially since we rooted you out of the White Mountains."

"Heh, you have too much faith in your brethren, young scourge. Your regiments may have managed to clear us from the White Mountains in the South, but your reach only extends so far. Your people have been trying to drive us to extinction for the past two hundred years with little success," a sickening grin spreads across his face, "Not that it matters. Soon all of you accursed rangers will receive as well as you have given."

The faces of Vohar and Ethon appear behind my eyes. "What do you mean?" I ask. I worry for my friends even if we are no longer together. Even Morrigan appears briefly, but he is safe with our Maker now. Hopefully none will share his fate.

"You are a force to be reckoned with in this world. Do not tell me that you cannot feel it," he growls, "There is something in the dark; moving, preparing. You may think these past few years something peaceful, but the truth as that we have not been idle. The shadows have been restless throughout these lands. The specters, the wraiths, trolls, orc, and goblins alike have been on the move." Here he pauses before starting again with renewed gusto, "Soon we will rise again and you rangers will burn in the flames of our resurrection. Your ashes will fall in proclamation of our victory and in time you will be forgotten."

"Time does that to all things, even you," I comment as I glare. There is not much else I can do. I am still largely armed, but with this strange ailment hanging over me I have no guarantee that any attack will work. Also, the two pests that have my arms pinned to my back hinder any move I could make for my hilts; not that I would use them. In such close quarters there is no promise that the company would be safe and the mere thought of bringing them pain causes my guts to clench painfully. The Great Goblin, sensing my distress leans in to intimidate me.

"You know that he wants you," says the creature, apparently ignoring my earlier comment, "He may be busy in preparation for our Master's return, but he so does want to have you." I don't have to ask who he is speaking of. I know he means the Defiler. I feel a small amount of eagerness to hear where he has been hiding all this time. "Ever since you murdered the Gijak, the Soul Eater, he has hoped to find you in his travels," he continues, "I heard you drowned the Pale Orc's youngest in a sea of dragon fire after he killed your elf friend. Tell me is that true?"

I can feel it building now; the raw anger. It is beginning to overcome my aches, nausea, and fatigue. The mention of the Defiler puts the Battle Song in my blood and this thing's utter disregard of Hadrien angers me further. As if Hadrien had been mine to keep: he was a father, a friend, and now a precious memory that I refuse to let this piece of waste mock.

"I did," I growl, "I killed him and all those with him. I would do it again if given the chance." Gijak had been one of the highest ranks amongst orc forces and therefore had several dealings with goblins. While the army of the dark may not get along, there is something to be said about the respect they show for their superiors; even if the basis for it is fear.

I can see this to be true when the Great Goblin's face scrunches up, "Now Azog wants to return the favor. You have spent so long searching for him after what he did to your mother. It would be a shame if you did not get to see him."

"The Defiler died in battle long ago," rumbles Thorin's voice. The disease ridden thing looks away from me, distracted. When his eyes meet Thorin another menacing grin spreads across his face.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is," he says with a spiteful glee. "Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror; King Under the Mountain." He adds a slight bow to the end of his statement before he straightens suddenly. "But I forget you don't have a mountain and you're not a king which makes you nobody really." I can hear the snickers of the goblins around us as they mock Thorin.

I can feel more anger rising in my throat because I know that the words would hurt Thorin. He would never let it show and considering what they are no one should listen to them anyway, but the fact that they are right on some level hurts him. He wants his mountain, he wants his kingdom, and he wants his home back. Thorin lost it because of his grandfather's greed and suffers still because of it. And after all those years he still manages the burden of leading his people with only friends and his last surviving kin at his side. These things are belittling him only because they have the upper hand.

"You say he is no one, but clearly you recognized him," I state reclaiming the monster's attention. "You know his name because when he and his people descended in the Misty Mountains they forced you so deep into the ranges that for a time the only food source you had was each other." Not uncommon, or much of an insult, but it gets the point across. "He may not be a king, but he is someone. He is the one that forced you to retreat back into Moria and it was his name that chased you back into your hole."

This is one of those times where I should have stopped, but I let my anger get the better of me. The dwarves cheer my words from behind me. The growl from the Great Goblin is the only warning I receive before his meaty paw hits the entire upper portion of my body and I meet the ground instantaneously. Luckily he didn't hit the side with my head wound and my arm acted as a cushion when my head hit the platform. I have a feeling if I leave the injury unchecked for much longer I might not manage to stay conscious. The dwarves begin to roar their displeasure and for a moment I felt Oin's hand brush my shoulder as they tried to reach me. I use that touch as an anchor and start to lift myself up slowly.

"So you think the Defiler's days are done do you?" he says to Thorin. "I thought the ranger would have told you, he's been searching for Azog for quite some time now. Ever since the Pale Orc managed to bring down his entire city and eradicate his people." The Great Atrocity pauses dramatically in hopes of letting it sink in. "No? I suppose he wouldn't. This one isn't inclined to share his kills and Azog has been his target since the moment he took the lad's mother." He smirks a little at the group behind me. I cannot see their faces, but I know that they must be disappointed with me, maybe just surprised. If we live, I will make it up to them; I swear it! "Rangers are known to be heavily armed," the crowned goblin continues. "Search them all again. Check every crack and crevice."

They begin to manhandle us again, searching for more weapons. I know Fili has hidden several knives on his person if the number he cleans during his watches are anything to go by. Hopefully, he will manage to keep at least one. As for myself, my boot and vambrace knives are taken. They also unhook the hilts and mask at the back of my belt. I try to reach for them, but I am shoved back by the goblins. As I try to keep my eyes on my possessions, one of the little beasts reaches inside my armor to try and find more weapons, but he finds something else. I yelp without meaning to and I unwittingly draw all the attention once more.

"Find anything interesting?" asks the massive goblin.

"The ranger is a woman, my liege," answers the one that groped me. "What shall we do with her?" He smiles manically. I know that orcs and goblins share their policies on captured women. I can only imagine what waits for me if their king decides to not wait for the Defiler to arrive. The Great Goblin stands up and looks me over. He is now appraising me with a new eye, but he turns to the dwarves with an apparent smirk on his face.

"A woman? Now really, Oakenshield, don't tell me you have resorted to using little girls to do your dirty work. Her record is certainly impressive, but I thought you dwarves had more honor than that." Thorin doesn't say or do anything and it prompts the pus filled mass to continue. "Don't tell me you didn't know? She does hide it rather well doesn't she?"

"To you maybe," I spit hatefully. I had hoped to explain myself to the others on my own terms, but now there is nothing for it. Everything is out now and I will have to deal with it, if the time comes.

"Regardless, you are the same ranger that has taken to hunting us and we will treat you as such. You are still a scourge that must be dealt with, but until then I am not above a little hospitality. Lads," he shouts, "Make the lass comfortable." All at once I am swarmed with pale hands as they work together as a whole to remove my armor. I can hear the company's cries once more over the sea of bodies. When they finally pull away I have only my tunic, breeches, boots and belt remaining. I am now exposed like an open wound. I try to hit any imp that has a lingering touch, but the look the Great Goblin makes me feel dirtier than those touches.

"Such a pretty little thing," he coos. "However, the Defiler will want you unharmed. That's his entertainment and I wouldn't want to ruin it for him. After all, the price for you is high and I wouldn't like to be shorted for damaged goods." He turns to Thorin now who is right next to me. "There is a price for your head too. Just the head, mind, nothing attached. However, I think I can get a little more for you if I keep you alive and…less damaged." He turns away from both of us to a small goblin with a parchment, "Send word to the Defiler I have found his prize and the ranger that hunts him."

With a cackle the thing speeds off down a line. I would like to think that there was no excitement that washed through me at the thought of finally having the chance to kill Azog, but if I were to be honest…

I raise my head a little and look at the other behind me. They were looking everywhere, trying to keep an eye on everything that moved and every once in a while their eyes would flicker to me. They were worried, I could see it. They didn't look mad at all. Kili even tried to mouth me something, but I couldn't see it. I could only imagine it was meant to be encouraging because of the bright smile he gave me at the end. These dwarves…did their Maker carve them from stone, but fill their hearts with gold?

"My lord they're bringing up the Mangler," reports the one with the rat face.

"Excellent!" bellows the Great Goblin and with a chuckle he adds, "I think I feel another song coming to me."

The bulky creature starts up his musical whimsy once more as his subjects wheel in the devices of our torture from somewhere down below. My head is finally starting to clear and a plan begins to form in my mind. I look over at Thorin who had been forced to the front of the group while we waited for Azog's arrival. Unfortunately, the others aren't safe. I hear whispers from the goblins that they want to start with either Ori or Balin. I can't bear the thought of either of them being tortured; their screams would do me in if their fear didn't show through first. I know I have to do something. Luckily, my hilts are resting on the top of the pile of the weapons. They aren't too far; one quick move and they could be in my hands. However, I have to chose; one choice more unstable than the other. I may end up hurting the company if I try to use it; it would be counter intuitive to trying to save them. My other choice requires absolute concentration and I'm not sure I can do that right now.

"Thorin?" I ask. He turns his head to me, giving me his attention. "I have a plan. I might be able to get us out of here, but-"

A sudden shriek from nearby cuts me off. One of the goblins had partially unsheathed Orcrist and screamed at the sight of it. The Great Goblin reacts just as violently, pushing himself back into his throne to escape the sword.

"I know that sword; It is the Goblin Cleaver! The Biter! The blade that sliced a thousand necks!" he says fearfully. At those words several goblins rush us with whips in hand. Thorin tries to cover me, but is dragged off by three other assailants. A crack of the whip leaves a thin cut on my arm, bleeding slightly. I can feel the sharp stinging, but my Battle Song is in full force and soon enough the cut is only irritating. Oin pushes through the enemy and takes Thorin's place in shielding me. "Lash them! Kill them! Kill them all!" I see two imps pin Thorin down while the third came at his neck with a blade. I struggle and try to wiggle out from under Oin in hopes of reaching Thorin. One hobgoblin sees this and with a crack of his whip a new cut forms on the side of my neck and shoulder. I let out scream of pain, but continue anyway. Then I hear the Great Goblin say, "Cut off his head!"

"NO!" I scream as watch the one with the blade raise it over Thorin. My wriggling is furious and with purpose as I try to reach for Thorin desperately. Then my vision is filled with a blinding light and I pray to any Maker that I have enough time to reach him, that he hasn't already been killed. There is a force wave that accompanies the light and it is enough to knock our captors down. In those moments of brief pause I manage to get from under Oin and charge forward blindly. When my body collides with what I think is the goblin with the blade I push with all my might.

At this point the light is gone and darkness fills my vision. I can feel a warm body beneath me and I use my hands to navigate to his face. When I can feel hair I run my hands through until I can find braids. I do and I find the beads I had first seen that night in the tavern. This is Thorin! I move my hand back to his head move back down to his neck. I can feel it attached to his body and his breathing a little ragged. I release a shuddering breath and a small smile, knowing that for the moment he is safe. Please, Mahal, if I cannot do it, keep your children safe!

My eyes readjust to the gloom and I look up to see the figure of Gandalf stepping out of the shadows. The light returns in the form of the magically relit torches. I can feel relief settling inside me, but not enough to dampen the Battle Song. I can honestly say that this is a rare time where I am truly grateful for a wizard appearing. He takes a brief look around before looking at us. "Take up arms!" implores Gandalf. "Fight! Fight!"

I only glance down once at Thorin who is looking back at me his eyes shining like stars in the dark. Movement shifts my vision to the two goblins that had pinned Thorin before. With a well timed kick I sent one over the edge and Thorin punches the other. Being closest to the weapons pile I start handing off the weapons to my friends as the combat ensues. I reattach my hilts and put back on my mask. I unsheathe Locelnehtar, creating its usual blue and orange eerie glow.

"He wields the Foehammer! The Beater; bright as daylight!" says the Great Goblin as he forces his bulk upward to take a swing at the wizard with his staff. However, Thorin came up from behind and manages to block the attack, using the massive beast's own weight to send him over the side of the platform. I take out two more captors alongside Bofur when there is a call from Gandalf. Apparently, we made a path and a possible escape route without even noticing.

"Follow me!" says the wizard as he takes the opening. We follow immediately with the pests close on our tail. One glance back and the wizard gives us a piece of sound advice, "Run!" We did as he bid, but I felt a slight tug on my tunic drawing me away from the edge of the bridge and into the mass of sprinting dwarves.

I look over to see Bofur looking at me worriedly, but he still manages to supply a slight smile. "Don't you worry, lass. You stick next to me an' the others an' we'll help you keep your feet." I give him a nod, but in truth I feel like crying. I had thought that they would be mad at me, but even as Bofur integrated me back into the group several dwarves moved to run with me, even speeding up to keep up with my longer legs. They worried about me. Why did Mahal have to give these particular dwarves such big hearts? What did I do to deserve them? When did I come to love them so?

Did it bother anyone else when Jackson made Dune worms for Middle Earth? They are the only few seconds I actually flipped off the Hobbit films in the theater. Just…wereworms? Really?

Next time: The first look at Tahna's powers…

Thank you everyone once more for all your love and support. I will try to be on time next time!