Chapter II. Everyone ready?
One thing before we start, thanks a lot for all the reviews I got and especially thank you to the anonymous ones, to which I could not reply personally. Some quick answers in short: yes, I would place people in danger and leave them there because I am in fact a sadistic person and no, I don't like that little family, I LOVE them with all my heart and will always love them, no matter what ;)
Now, onto the story, enjoy!
Kílis struggles subsided as soon as he spotted his brother up on the platform. Fíli, forced on his knees and with a massive blade in his neck, stared down at his younger sibling, nearly going insane in his frustration.
"So, let's see. Dwarves are quite a small folk, are they not?"
Various goblins answered their master, giggling and snickering in the process. "Small, yes, very small indeed."
"Have you ever seen a big dwarf? Besides this fatty here?", the Great Goblin demanded, pointing at Bombur who kneeled at the far end of the company.
"No, never. No fatties, no big ones."
"Not even that one is really big!", now the Great Goblin pointed at Dwalin, who snarled at him in return, scaring off a group of smaller goblins.
"I believe it is time to make a really big dwarf ourselves!"
Howling and laughter emerged from the goblins surrounding the scenery. Many had settled on the bridges and crooked wooden huts that ascended up the mountain. They applauded their King, cheering and whistling.
"PULL HIS LIMBS UNTIL HIS FLESH IS TORN AND HIS BODY RIPPED APART!", the roar echoed through every cavern, every crack of the Misty Mountains and resounded down on the poor dwarves.
"NO! KÍLI!"
Enraged and afraid, Fíli nearly flung himself off the peak, had it not been for his capturers who were holding him firmly in place. He didn't even notice the blade cutting into his neck, drawing a thin line of blood.
Below, Kíli felt his legs and arms being spread, as the goblins attached long ropes to the leather shackles and clamped them into a build-up of wooden cogwheels. One prominently big goblin firmly gripped a gigantic lever.
"Thorin!", Bofur whispered at their leader, who kneeled only a few inches away from him. "Now would be a good time to answer them questions!"
"I said I won't answer them", Thorin replied between gritted teeth.
"But I think they're being serious down there. You wouldn't let them rip the lad in half now, would you?"
Durins heir remained quiet.
"Begin!", the Great Goblin barked, his eyes fixed on Thorin.
The big goblin began to push, groaning and hackling like some wild beast.
At first nothing happened.
Kíli lay, waiting for any sort of sensation while he heard the blood rush in his ears and felt his heart racing in his chest. Thorin would not really let him die like this. Never, not in this world, nor any other. They were family after all. Weren't they?
His gaze met that of his brother, desperately searching for something reassuring but all he read in Fílis features was despair and anger.
'Help me.'
No sound came from his lips and no sound was needed for a single glance was enough for the brothers to understand each other.
'Please, brother, help me.'
'I will. Hold on. Just a little longer.'
"Coward."
Thorins shoulders jerked as he heard the unforgiving voice of his nephew.
"What did you call me?"
Fílis jaws were clenched but he repeated what he said agonizingly slowly.
"Coward."
"Come on now laddie", Balin intervened. "This is a pretty tough situation after all."
"Pretty tough?"
Below, the ropes tightened more and more and Kíli felt a sharp tug at his limbs. A thin layer of sweat formed on his forehead.
"Pretty tough?! He will die if you don't do anything!", Fíli still hadn't raised his voice loud enough for anyone but those closest to him to hear but every word felt like a lash of the whip to Thorin nonetheless.
"They may not know of our quest", Thorin insisted once again, sternly looking down at Kíli, possibly unable or unwilling to face Fíli right now.
The ropes tensed further and the pressure on Kílis limbs became nearly unbearable. The young dwarf gritted his teeth, his hands formed into fists.
"You are risking the life of your kin for this?! For jewels and treasure?! Sparkling rubbish and no more than that?!"
Never before had Fíli spoken to his uncle like this.
Not to Thorin, not ever. For all those years, Thorin had been Fílis hero. His idol, the one dwarf he wanted to come up to, to impress more than anything else. He had spent hours and hours together with his brother, dreaming of the great deeds they would do one day for Thorin to recognize them. Slay the dragon, reclaim the treasure, take back Erebor and become the Lords of the stony halls below the mountain. Fíli knew that, on the day of Thorins death, should he not have children of his own by then, he would become the King of Durins folk. And as much as he anticipated this moment, the more he dreaded it for it would mean saying goodbye to his uncle whom he adored so much.
It did therefore not come as a surprise, that the look of anger and hate on Fílis face irritated Thorin so much, that he found himself unable to look at his nephew.
Down on the platform Kíli felt a sharp, searing pain and heard a loud popping sound, as his elbow snapped from its joint. He cried out in pain and that cry echoed from every wall.
Fíli flinched as if his own arm had been torn.
"Is that worth it?! Answer me!"
The pained expression on Thorins face was well hid behind a curtain of black hair.
"Thorin!"
No reply.
"In Durins name, he is your family! THE ONLY FAMILY YOU HAVE LEFT!"
All of a sudden, the ropes loosened up.
The goblins pulled them from the cogwheels and threw them to the ground, untying the young dwarf.
Fíli blinked, puzzled as to what was happening down below.
"What is going on?", Bofur asked, but nobody could answer him.
They yanked Kíli back onto his feet. The young dwarf could barely stand. His legs were sore and couldn't properly hold him, his left arm hung limp and useless down his side. Confused, he looked around and then once again met his brothers' gaze, realizing that Fíli was just as confused as he was.
'What have you done?'
'Nothing.'
One of the goblins nodded up towards their direction and a bunch of them began to roll the Bone Crusher down the platform and off over the bridges.
"No", Thorins eyes widened his shock and he yanked his head around, to find the Great Goblin grinning maliciously behind him.
"The only family you have left. Is that so?"
Only then did Fíli realize what he had done. That he had made it worse. Again. And suddenly he felt ineffably numb.
"Well, we better treat our royal guest with a little more respect then, shan't we? A pitiful death on a machine like that seems very much inappropriate for a member of Durins house."
The Goblin King reached out for a massive hammer leaning against his throne. It was decorated with golden carvings, grimaces of goblins and wargs, probably stolen from an orc warrior or troll, for the Great Goblin was great enough to wield a weapon as big as this one. Its head nearly matched Kíli in size.
"I guess I better attend to the young prince myself then."
"Don't lay a hand on him", Thorin growled but earned nothing more than a dark chuckle from the Great Goblin.
The beast began to move down the bridge, closer and closer to Kíli, who was still weak in the knees and struggling to stand. His vision had gone blurry from the pain, blood still rushing in his ears and as soon as the goblins let go of him, he struggled for a moment to stand firmly on both legs.
"So", the Goblin King bellowed. "A prince of Durin! Do not worry boy, your death will be slow and painful!"
Before the young dwarf even realized what was happening, the massive hammer crashed into the ground only a few inches away from his feet, leaving a deep crater in the solid rock. He was nearly blown off his feet and needed a moment to regain his composure to dodge the next attack.
"NO! Thorin! Help him for goodness sake!", Fíli cried, forgetting about the blade in his neck that cut deep into his flesh. He didn't even feel the pain anymore. Panicking, he dug his fingers into the dark stone below him, unable to watch but also unable to look away.
The Great Goblin swung the hammer once more and this time he hit the youngster full on, blowing him against solid rock. Kíli felt a few ribs break, he cried out and desperately looked for shelter, for he was still unarmed and heavily injured.
"THORIN!"
It happened quickly. Before the goblins even knew what was going on, Thorin had grabbed a massive stone and smashed the skull of the goblin behind him, then snapping the neck of the one holding the blade to Fílis neck with the same stroke. The rest of the dwarves played on the goblins confusion and knocked their capturers out one by one. As quickly as he could, Thorin hurried to the heap of weapons that the goblins had taken from them.
The Great Goblin sensed nothing of the upheaval, too focused on the young dwarf at his feet. He lifted the hammer high above his head, ready to strike down and kill Kíli, when he suddenly felt a sharp, burning sensation between his shoulder blades. He halted, the red eyes widened in surprise. The young dwarf at his feet, already certain of his death, blinked, lowered his right arm, that he had held in front of him like a shield and merely stared at the Goblin King. A dark throwing knife stuck deep in his back and he couldn't reach it to pull it out.
"FÍLI!", the youngest cried, seeing his brother standing by the edge of the peak, two more knives ready in his hands.
Another knife pierced the Goblin and a third hit him right in the face, enraging the beast. Then he saw Thorin, back in full armour by the bridge, in his hands the mighty blade of Orcrist, the Goblin Cleaver.
The Great Goblin screamed.
"So this is your answer, Thorin Oakenshield! You will die for your family?!"
"Now and any other day! Again and again if I must!"
But before any of the opponents could even touch one another, a brilliant beam of white light illuminated the entire town, causing dwarves and goblins alike to drop like flies and Gandalfs voice echoed from the stone walls.
"Grab the boy and run!"
Kíli coughed violently. The Great Goblin, blown off his feet had sent a thick cloud of dust his way and the young dwarf found it hard to breathe. He tried to get up, supporting himself with his left arm, that immediately buckled and caused the youngster to hiss in pain. Through the thick dust in the air, he only saw shadows, one of them moving towards him quickly while the clashing of blades resounded from the stonewalls around them.
It was Fílis hand that pulled Kíli back on his shaking feet. His brother's arm around his waist, his brothers' shoulder that he wrapped his useless arm around.
"Hold on. We will get you out of here. We're safe now. Can you run?"
"I guess so."
"Kíli!", Thorins voice sounded from the quarrel around them.
"He's with me! Run!", Fíli cried, already beginning to pull his brother along, when something suddenly grabbed Kílis ankle, causing him to stumble and nearly fall. Grinning manic, the Great Goblin dug his claws deep into the young dwarf's leg.
"You're not going anywhere!"