I guess today I'll have to give a special thanks to all of those who actually read all 17 chapters in one go. I don't think I would've done that, so kudos to you and thank you very very much! Chapter 18 then? Situation's starting to get dangerous!
Also a little side note to elufuir again: ja, du darfst angeben :P
Enjoy the chapter guys and thanks for the reviews!
A horrible screech echoed across the grassland when the fangs of the large grey warg crashed down onto the red blade of Dáin's axe. Even though the dwarf dug his heels into the ground, the great beast actually managed to push him across the grass for a few yards. He slashed his blade to the side, cutting deep into the warg's cheeks, leaving it howling and snarling.
The slender beige animal was fast and cunning, going right for Fíli's throat, the older brother already weary of wargs and their fangs. He heard the snapping and nearly toppled over, when Kíli's blade crashed down onto the beasts shoulders right in front of his nose. The animal spun around, snapping at Kíli who quickly dodged it and took a few steps back, distracting it well enough that Fíli could sink his sword into the warg's flank.
Thorin's blade crashed down onto the body of the brown warg again and again and this time, his blows were so fierce and forceful, that they cut through the wiry fur like a knife through butter. Bleeding heavily, the animal got more and more furious, snapping at the dwarf and trying to get to the blade to yank it from him but Thorin stood his ground.
"You won't defeat me again", he growled, Orcrist pointed at the snarling warg. "And you will pay for what you did!"
He knew that the beast understood his words, for it flattened it's ears, baring it's fangs in a horrible fashion. It glanced at it's companions and when it saw the beige warg tackling Fíli, causing him to fall and lose his weapons, it turned back to Thorin, something like a malicious grin on it's disgusting face.
Fíli fell flat on his back, the battle hammer pressing into his spine and his swords gone. Before he could even take a breath, the warg hovered above him, pressing him down with one large paw on his chest. Fíli quickly grabbed one of his throwing knives from his sleeve, cutting deep into the animal's nose and a strike from Kíli's blade did the rest to force the howling beast off the older brother. He was quickly on his feet again, drawing the large hammer.
The animal turned to Kíli, biting and snapping, trying to get to the youngster's throat but to no avail. The dwarf was quick and agile, dodging the monstrous jaws again and again. When he saw an opening, he swiftly swung his blade, ramming it into the animal's throat. The thick fur however, as well as the muscular flesh quickly had the blade stuck and the furious beast began to snap violently at the dwarf, not even on the verge of death yet.
Panic spread on his features, for his blade was stuck and the beast had gone into a murderous frenzy. It was then, that Fíli's battle hammer crashed down onto the warg's neck with such a force, that the blade of Kíli's sword cut clean through flesh and bones and met the bronze hammer with a deafening clangour. The beast's head rolled across the grassland and the boys stood side by side, breathing heavily.
Enraged by the death of its comrade, the light brown warg went straight for Thorin again, not caring about the countless cuts and bleeding wounds that already plastered it's body. Trying to tackle Thorin, it took a running start, sprinting towards the dwarf with wide-open jaws and this was how it's life ended. For Thorin thrust the point of his sword right into the open fangs of the beast until it appeared again at the back of its head. The large warg stumbled, groaning and choking until it dropped dead at the feet of the king.
Meanwhile Dáin had battered his opponent badly, the once beautiful grey animal bleeding heavily already, the fur stained in red. He slammed the flat side of his axe right into the warg's face, using the short moment of disorientation to bring the blade down, splitting the beast's skull in two. The warg stumbled to the ground, still twitching for a while before it lay dead.
The four dwarves looked at the bodies, all of them still trying to catch their breath. The Wargs of Gundabad were defeated. At least the few that stood guard over the orc fortress in the mountain, for Dáin and Thorin were aware that the territory of those cursed wolves lay beyond the mountain, towards the Kingdom of Angmar.
"There will be more of those", Dáin muttered.
"Yes, but they're not here yet. We have to get going", Thorin agreed, giving his nephews an approving nod.
They sprinted off towards the gates of Mount Gundabad, leaving the dead animals behind.
The dwarves under Dwalin's lead quickly had to learn that trying to break the gate in wouldn't work. A thick wooden beam bolted the gate from the inside and no matter how hard they pushed and shoved and threw themselves against the gates, the wood did not move an inch. Thus they resolved to Dwalin's preferred method of solving problems. They used brute strength, breaking the wooden door down with axes and hammers.
When Thorin and the others arrived at the gate, a large hole already gaped in the gate, baring the beam that held the doors in place. Dáin wiped the blood of his blade and stepped forward. He glanced at Dwalin and noticed the bandage under his vest that was already stained red with blood.
"Still able to fight, old friend?"
"What do you think?", Dwalin grumbled.
"Then give me a hand here, will you?", Dáin smirked.
The remaining dwarves took a few steps back. Dáin and Dwalin were both tall for dwarves and exceptionally strong and they were both feared by their enemies, for when they fought together in battle, not a stone was left standing. They had cleared battlefields before like hurricanes, the Orcs of Moria calling them demons and Fíli and Kíli stared in awe when those two legendary warriors stood side by side.
They both raised their axes above their heads and when the blades thundered down, the beam burst and cracked into splinters until it broke in half. They pushed the gate open, already anticipating a horde of orcs coming right at them but nothing happened. The mountain lay quiet.
Dáin was the first to enter the mountain, closely followed by Dwalin and Thorin. The stepped into utter darkness and Thorin ordered some of them to light up torches. Once the flames lit up the mountain, the dwarves stood speechless.
Before them lay a large hall built beautifully into the mountain. Massive pillars supported the ceiling; dwarven runes were carved into the black stone. The solid floor glistened in the dim light of the torches. Dust had settled in every crack and chink but this place once had been beautiful and glorious and nobody would have dared to say otherwise.
Kíli stood with his mouth open, staring up at the high ceiling that entirely disappeared in the darkness and Fíli did not even dare to breathe. Even Thorin seemed mesmerized and the ever criticising Dáin could not mutter a single word.
Bilbo looked from one dwarf to the next, utterly puzzled. To him, this place was just another mountain fortress, as he did not know the history of Mount Gundabad. He carefully tucked at Fíli's jerkin, not sure himself whether he was pressing the youngster to go or actually wanting to ask a question.
"What's wrong?", he finally whispered quietly. "I- I mean, I don't want to disturb the moment but we might want to hurry a little."
"We will", Fíli muttered, still looking at the pillars.
"Why won't the little prince explain to the Halfling why this place is important to us while we move on?", Dáin growled, obviously displeased that Bilbo had joined their company in the first place. He hadn't told Thorin but he believed that a Halfling from the Shire had nothing to do in a company of dwarves. He marched off, his armour clanging in the dark, closely followed by his warriors.
Bilbo felt uneasy but to his surprise, it was Thorin who gently placed a hand on his shoulder. He didn't say anything but nodded approvingly, recognising Bilbo as a member of this company and accepting him as such.
The hobbit fell behind, Fíli and Kíli to each side and they followed the rest of the dwarves with a little distance. Only Gandalf kept near the youngsters in case they got lost.
"Mount Gundabad is deeply rooted in the history of our kin", Fíli began quietly, still looking around as they wandered amongst the pillars. "The legend says that Durin the Deathless himself awoke here. He was the eldest of the seven Fathers of the Dwarves and though he never claimed the mountain as his righteous home, he declared this place sacred and it served as a meeting place for the dwarven lords. At least until the Orcs of Angmar came and claimed Mount Gundabad as their realm."
Bilbo noticed Fíli's features growing dark and even his brother remained silent, for dwarven pride was easily blemished and no living dwarf would ever forgive the orcs for this outrage.
"During the War of the Dwarves and the Orcs, the dwarves believed to have cleared the mountain from the remaining orcs but apparently they were wrong. The orcs began to repopulate Mount Gundabad and now it is once again their capital."
Gandalf chuckled quietly a few feet ahead.
"You think that's funny?", Kíli chuntered.
"No, young Master Dwarf, not at all", the wizard answered bemused. "I am merely wondering when your brother will admit to his intelligence and stop the pranks and baublery."
Fíli blushed at little and even Bilbo smirked, for he had seen Fíli's mature side, as well as his leadership skills and was yet still amazed by his sometimes childish attire.
"Not until he mounts the throne I guess", Kíli grinned, nudging his brother in the ribs.
They ventured on in silence, the young dwarves still mesmerized by the sheer beauty of this place though Bilbo found none of that. A hobbit did not belong underground and he began to feel rather claustrophobic. He was made for the green meadows and the clear blue sky of the Shire and he already missed the warm sunlight. Fíli and Kíli however swelled in this place and for the first time since they left the Ered Luin, they felt like they were moving on familiar territory again.
'Gandalf was probably right', Bilbo thought to himself, as he watched the youngsters. Those were their halls and they would defend their realm with dwarven ferocity.
The steps of the dwarves were light and swift as they scurried between the pillars, some venturing out to the sides. They encountered the first orcs many yards into the hall, all of them sleeping tightly and they murdered Bolg's kin in their sleep, silently slitting their throats, one after the other.
Bilbo watched bewildered, witnessed the daggers glowing red in the dim light, as he had never seen such quick and quiet killing before.
They came like a silent, red flood over the mountain, Dáin and Thorin at the tip of the warriors and they left nothing but death, dozens of orcs lying in their own blood still seemingly asleep though none of them breathed anymore. A quiet plague with glistening blades and a dreadful wish for revenge.
Even the youngsters disappeared into the ramified halls and tunnels of the mountain, slaughtering every sleeping soul they found and Bilbo doubted for a moment, that those really were the cheerful boys he had encountered weeks ago. Gandalf stood silently by Bilbo's side, watching unfazed.
"This is terrifying", the hobbit whispered.
"It is", Gandalf agreed. "But it lies in the dwarven nature. They may be formidable and loving friends and companions but each of them has a heart of stone if necessary. If you believed that the elves were unforgiving, you have never encountered dwarven grudge. No other folk is as merciless towards those who did it wrong, as the dwarves are."
And Bilbo witnessed the dwarven grudge first hand that day.
When Fíli and Kíli returned to him, their clothes, hands and even faces were stained with black blood, an unknown flame burning in their eyes. They reminded the hobbit of the wargs outside; once they had tasted blood they craved for more. Justice for their people, that's what the dwarves were after. As if the key had already been forgotten and was just a prize on the way.
Soon no orc within the great hall was alive anymore and the dwarves hurried on. The further they journeyed on into the mountain, the more anxious Thorin became.
"That was too easy", he muttered under his breath.
"Aye, there's more to come", Dáin agreed, running by his cousin's side. "There should be hundreds of orcs in this mountain, I wonder where they are hiding."
None of them had ever entered Mount Gundabad before. The sacred halls were not to be seen by anybody but the dwarf lords and ever since the orcs had settled within the mountain, no dwarf had dared to enter. They thus did not know of the depth of those halls and tunnels and although they knew that they were venturing deeper and deeper below the ground, they had no idea as to where they were actually going. Thorin only had one thing in mind. To find Bolg and reclaim the key.
Their surroundings slowly changed. The clean, smooth walls of the hall turned into uneven, black stone blemished with cracks and hollows, the ground turned rocky and rugged and dust and dirt had settled in every single corner. They were now deep inside the mountain and had already left Durin's Halls way behind them. A vile stench lay in the air, death, decay and blood mixed with the brute scent of orcs and Bilbo wrinkled his nose. Thorin slowed the company down, lifting a finger to his lips for they had now entered the realm of the Orcs of Gundabad.
Before them lay another large gate, no sound came from the other side. Thorin exchanged a quick glance with Dáin, who, if he ever felt uneasy, still looked utterly calm and carefree. It seemed as if nothing fazed the battle-scarred warrior anymore and Kíli couldn't help but admire him more and more with every passing minute. Dáin nodded slowly, grabbing one of the handles while Thorin grabbed the other. Bilbo glimpsed down at his side and noticed Sting's blade burning blue but before he could even open his mouth, it was too late.
As they pulled the gate open, the first two lines of Dáin's warriors immediately dropped dead, met by spears and arrows and right in that moment, an orcish ambush barged through the gate and straight into the dwarves.