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Chapter Eleven
The fetid air around them had filled with the dip and swell of goblin cries as their feet raced over the wooden boards. Goblin Town was built from a series of suspended walkways and platforms, interspersed with stone bridges and rocky outcrops. The wizard led them for the most part as they careered around corners and thrust goblins away; they had their weapons drawn, and there was no mercy in their eyes as they pushed on towards what they hoped would be safety.
They came to a platform which had no bridge between it and another, and with a look of fleeting despair, Miluiel gripped tightly to the arm nearest her, which belonged to a terrifyingly angry Bombur, and watched in horror as Fili slashed at the ropes holding the platform in place. It suddenly swung across the gaping chasm and half of the company departed. Bombur gripped her wrist and almost threw her across, into the waiting arms of Balin, who steadied her on her feet and smiled crookedly, before turning back to the goblins around them. As the platform swung away from them, goblins piled on at the other end, swinging their crude weapons and yelping battle cries. The trapped Dwarves fought the nasty creatures, and leapt once more as the platform moved through the air. Fili was the last to throw himself into the air, and the seconds felt like hours stretching between them as he jumped and landed, being hauled to safety by an impatient Gandalf.
"Move!" the wizard cried, his flashing blade severing heads from shoulders as he backed towards Miluiel. She had stood, rooted to the spot for a mere moment, before having her arm yanked desperately from behind. She whirled about to face Bofur, who swung a small axe at nearby goblins and yanked her again, startling her into moving. Her feet danced over the uneven ground as she ran, feeling fear and rage carry her on their swift wings towards the other Dwarves. They thundered across the wooden boards, their footsteps ringing off the rocky cavern walls and followed by the high pitched shrieks of the amassing goblin hoards. Her sword swung upward, knocking a snarling creature off the edge of a bridge as she leapt over its fallen neighbour, her teeth ground together in determination. She willed herself to survive, as she willed the others to keep up with the darting Dwarf prince who swayed into her eye-line far ahead of her.
The group reached a wooden bridge, and as they all converged together in the middle, a crashing medley of sound made her eyes dart upwards. The wobbling goblin king slammed into the boards, his piggy eyes gleaming malevolently as he surveyed the Dwarves. He chuckled, making his entire stomach shake and shudder with the sound, before turning his attention to Gandalf as he strode forward ahead of the others with his sword and staff held aloft.
"You thought you could escape me?" he laughed, the sound rumbling from the quivering flesh as he pushed Gandalf backwards. Many hands reached up to steady the wizard, forcing him back to his feet. As he moved, Thorin glanced about, searching for the wide grey eyes he needed to see. She was a few feet from him, sandwiched between Nori and Bofur, who both held their weapons tightly and had rammed their shoulders against hers. She herself looked terrified, her eyes huge in her sweet pale face; her dark lips formed words he could not hear, and for a split second she raised her head, catching his gaze. Clouds of pink drifted up her neck to her cheeks and she nodded curtly, her mouth now held tightly as if she were keeping in a sound.
"What are you going to do now, wizard?" the great goblin asked, his bulbous eyes wide. Thorin turned back to see Gandalf thrust his staff forward, jabbing one of the huge eyes before slashing at the swinging stomach of the hulking form blocking their path. The slimy creature fell to his knees, where Gandalf again slashed forth, this time severing head from neck. The piercing shrieks of devastated goblins served as a counterpart to creaking, splintering wood as his body slithered over the edge, breaking timbers and causing the bridge beneath their feet to undulate as it was rent from its moorings on either side.
Miluiel felt her feet slip as the bridge began its descent down the sides of the cavern beneath, and her tiny hand reached forward to grab the furred shoulder of Dwalin standing in front of her. The Dwarf thrust his shoulder forward in a movement almost quicker than the eye, swinging her forward and into his arms. He pushed her roughly between himself and Thorin as they tried to steady themselves whilst their platform raced down the mountain wall. Around them echoed the shouts and cries of the other Dwarves, followed by the squeaks and shrieks of the goblins as they watched their prisoners escaping. Thorin could only grip Miluiel's tiny wrist in his hand as they fell down into the darkness, and he could feel her cool skin almost prickling in fear. Her other hand held tightly to the side of Dwalin's jerkin, her fingers twisted into the fabric so that if they were to fall over the side, they should fall together. With a jolt, the bridge suddenly stopped, wedged between the sides of the cavern, before creaking, shifting and falling a few more feet, collapsing as it hit the ground. Dwarves around her groaned as the wood showered down onto their heads, but she could not see for in her face was the soft, damp fur of a cloak. Dark, searching eyes burrowed into her own as she swiped the material aside, and she found herself cocooned in muscular arms, fully protected from the jagged wooden boards. Her heart hammered against her rib cage, like a fluttering bird beating its wings; she felt certain that the Dwarf above her could feel every quiver she made. Thorin's body lay flush with her own, and she marvelled momentarily at how comfortably they seemed to fit together, before feeling another pair of hands reach under her shoulders. She gasped as she was slid from underneath the Dwarf prince, and as her eyes widened with fear, she heard Balin's frantic voice.
"On your feet lassie, on your feet!" he said, pulling her free from the wreckage and setting her upright. She brushed down her clothes and looked back to Thorin, who was wriggling out from under the wood himself. Her lips parted as she was about to thank him, before he grabbed her shoulder and pulled her forward.
"Are you hurt?" he demanded, shaking her roughly. Her head rocked on her neck as she looked at him, her eyes wide in her pretty face. She shook her head wordlessly, ramming her lips together and turning them white. Suddenly, taking the prince quite by surprise, she launched herself at his chest, wrapping her slim arms tightly around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. Her small frame curved into his body as he awkwardly brought his arms around her waist; he could feel her trembling as she pressed herself to him, before releasing him and stepping back, her neck and face flushed a delicate pink. Her hair fell about her shoulders in haphazard chaos, splinters of wood and debris clinging to its lengths, and streaks of dirt marred her pale countenance. For an errant moment, Thorin longed to brush his fingers through her wild tresses, and to gently brush her soft cheek. She opened her mouth to speak, but as her lips moved, Kili's voice sliced through the air.
"Gandalf!" the dark-haired Dwarf cried, his own eyes wide as he stared overhead. The company turned to follow his gaze and watched as the goblins skittered down the sides of the dank cavern towards them. They numbered in the thousands, and their dirty skin was illuminated in the yellowing glow of torchlight as they moved in a wave down and down. Gandalf strode towards the fallen bridge and yanked on the arms of a struggling Dwarf, before turning to the group as they brushed themselves down and began to panic.
"Only one thing will save us. Daylight! Come on! Here, on your feet!" Gandalf turned and began to run, leading the Dwarves down a series of winding tunnels that seemed to twist and turn like the coils of a snake, their feet ringing on the stone floor. As they ran, the air around them became lighter and sweeter, as if a spell were being wafted away by an unseen hand. Bofur looked over his shoulder to see Miluiel gripping Oin's wrist, dragging the older Dwarf behind her as she tried to keep up with the group. Oin lagged behind, his old bones sore from their journey down the chasm, and it seemed the only thing keeping him with his kin was the tiny woman, her breath coming in pants and gasps as she hurried along.
Suddenly, a shaft of light sliced across their faces, and the sight of the surrounding woodland spurred the company onward for a last burst of speed. As they ran through the stone opening, the wizard counted them out, not wishing to leave any of his charges in the dark goblin prison. Miluiel and Oin were the last of the group to leap out into the sunlight, their feet crushing the soft grass as they pounded down the mountainside, narrowly avoiding boulders and pine trees that reached into the evening sky.
"Where is Bilbo?" Gandalf cried, his voice cracking with uncertainty, "Where is our Hobbit?"