Disclaimer: I do not own anything associated with The Hobbit and Middle Earth.
Chapter 12: Rule of Chaos
Civilization begins with order, grows with liberty and dies with chaos.
—Will Durant
In the movies, action heroes can slide smoothly across any surface imaginable and land on their feet, no worse for wear than when they began. Gemma could not help but think that action movies needed to do better research. She now knew for a fact that sliding down a dirt tunnel onto a wooden platform would look and feel very different in an action movie that it did in real life. First and foremost because she did not, in fact, slide at all. It was more of a wild tumble which bashed several parts of her body against the rocks and roots and dirt that made up the tunnel walls, leaving her battered, bruised, and bleeding in various places. Also, when she landed, she certainly did not land on her feet. Instead, she landed painfully on her left shoulder, which she was fairly certain was now dislocated. Someone fell on top of her, and Gemma let out a wheeze. Yup, her shoulder was undeniably dislocated.
Gemma crawled out from beneath a pile of dwarves, and found her bag lying a few feet away on the railing of the platform, thankfully saved from falling over the edge to the black depths below. She pulled out her gun and holster belt. She resolved to sleep wearing it from now on.
Just as the Company all got to their feet, the most disgusting little creatures Gemma had ever seen swarmed across the bridge, enveloping them in a mass of blistering, slimy bodies. Gemma tried to fight them back, but the whole scene was too chaotic to use her weapon; she could risk shooting one of her friends if she tried. The creatures tied their arms, yanking her dislocated shoulder at a painful angle, and pushed them forward. Gemma felt their grotesquely long fingers touch places that she definitely did not want touched, and she tried to wriggle herself away from them.
For some reason, her mind recalled a scene from her year at university, back when she wanted to become a lawyer. It was her first uni party, a frat party to be specific. Writhing bodies, wandering hands, a general atmosphere of chaos, and being surrounded by disgusting, slimy creatures. Only this time, the creatures were literally slimy. And probably homicidal.
Gemma continued to wriggle and twist from the grabbing hands until her back collided with a solid chest. "Thorin?" She guessed in a whisper, unable to turn around.
"Are you alright?" He asked back, trying to steady her somehow without the use of his tied hands. Thanks to their awkward height differences, he only succeeded in pushing his abs closer to her butt.
"Not really, I think my shoulder is dislocated, and these…things, have grabby hands." She would much rather have her butt mashed against his chest, however mortifying and cringe-worthy that sentence sounded, than being felt up by four-foot slime creatures (that sentence was most definitely more cringe-worthy than the last).
"They're goblins," he replied with disgust, maneuvering to try to shield her body with his own.
Gemma was struck by how gentlemanly that was of him, but rather than remarking on this, she said, "Geez, dragons and goblins and orcs, Middle Earth has way too many dangerous creatures roaming around. It's like something out of The Wizard of Oz, like dragons and goblins and orcs, oh my!" She could feel the confusion that warped Thorin's face at her words, even if she couldn't see it. "Never mind," she mumbled, unconsciously curling into the warmth of Thorin's big fur coat, as she began to work on loosening the knot binding her wrists.
The goblins pushed them along the rickety wooden bridges, which seemed to be defying the laws of physics just by the fact that they were still standing, and brought them to another platform much larger than the last. It stood in the centre of a large pit that was full of other platforms and connecting bridges, creating an intricate framework from which millions of goblins leered down at them. The only sources of light in the otherwise dank and bottomless pit were the thousands of torches that lined the framework. The wooden, highly flammable framework. Gemma pressed herself further into Thorin, crouching and curling further into his coat as if it could swallow her up. Ahead of the Company, sitting atop a throne of skulls, rock and live goblins, was the largest and ugliest goblin of all. And this goblin began to sing, a morbid and bone-chilling song accompanied by a cacophonic tune of crude instruments.
"Catchy, isn't it?" The creature, whom she presumed was the king, asked with his fat chin wiggling once he finished the song about Goblin Town.
"That's not a song, it's an abomination!" Balin cried. Awesome, great going Balin. Honestly, these dwarves knew nothing about diplomacy or talking their way out of situations. Looks like she would have to handle it. She tried to conjure up Persuasive-Gemma, but she didn't seem to want to come out. Gemma was too distracted by that disgusting drooping chin, and all those fire hazards surrounding them.
"Who dares to come into my kingdom armed?" The Great Goblin questioned as the goblins stripped the Company of all their belongings, even managing to take Gemma's bag and gun, though she broke at least two noses before the creatures were able to wrestle her things away. Their belongings were thrown in a pile at the foot of the Great Goblin's throne.
"Dwarves," one goblin said. "We found them on the front porch."
"Well, search them!" The Great Goblin yelled. "Every crack, every crevice."
The goblins swarmed them again, and became even more handsy. One dumped out a bag that contained several pieces of elvish tableware. Nori mumbled something about keepsakes as the goblins roared, accusing them of being in league with elves. Gemma honestly didn't know how Nori had managed to hold on to the treasures throughout the whole thunder-battle ordeal. The goblin king demanded to know why they were there, and Thorin made to step forward. Gemma blocked him with her knee. They already knew that someone had it out for the Company; if the Great Goblin recognized Thorin, they were all screwed.
Bofur stepped forward instead, and began a rambling excuse about roads and paths and tracks and distant relations. It was only serving to piss the Great Goblin off. Gemma stepped forward, interrupting Bofur's rambling. "Don't mind them; they haven't the slightest idea what they're talking about…sir," she said in her most charming of voices, attempting to channel the overly perky and convincing attitude from her teenage years as a part-time Starbucks barista. "See, we are not in league with elves. We… are simple travellers, but I fear we took a wrong turn a few miles back. We should have travelled through the valley, but instead we took the wrong path along this mountain. We're terribly sorry to intrude." The dwarves all nodded vigorously. Please let us go. Gemma had always thought that the best way to lie was to use the truth. It was easier to remember, and it often actually worked.
And it almost did, until…
"Lies!" The Great Goblin roared.
"Fuck. We tried." Gemma mumbled.
"If they won't talk, we'll make 'em squawk," the goblin declared to raucous applause. "Starting with the woman." He pointed at her.
There was uproar amongst the dwarves as they tried to block her, but the goblins pushed her forward once more.
She tried to put on a brave face; she would rather it be her, who was already broken, than one of the others. Yet her body began to tremor, ever so slightly, as the goblins used a pulley system to raise a device that clearly could only be intended for the most brutal of uses up onto the platform. As the goblins pushed her towards it, her vision fogged, and their faces morphed into those faceless faces, and she was horribly aware of all those torches lighting up the pit surrounding her, and she smelt that musty smell that she knew so well...
Breathe. Don't black out. Don't do it. She repeated the mantra in her head, as if willpower alone could stop the effects. It had never worked before, but she continued to try.
Through the haze she saw Fili and Kili, still struggling to get to her; she realised that they all were, but none could break free of their restrainers. And Thorin, he fought the most. She looked to him, and the haze cleared.
Unfortunately, the commotion Thorin caused drew attention, and the Great Goblin finally recognized who he was. "Wait," he called, holding up a massive hand to halt the goblins that were forcing Gemma into the torture device. "I know who you are," he pointed at Thorin, smug, "the great Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain." He said Thorin's title, long and drawn out, in a singsong voice that made everyone wince. "Except you don't have a mountain anymore. So I guess that makes you... well, no one, really." Gemma felt her stomach drop. Hadn't she implied the same thing to Thorin earlier? She felt disgusted that her mind could even consider a thought that was also formed in the brain of this foul thing.
"But," the Great Goblin continued, "There are those who have set a fine price for your head. Just your head, mind you." This caught Gemma's attention and Thorin's too. "Oh, you don't know? Yes the pale orc has issued a handsome bounty."
Thorin paled at the moniker, and looked like he was going to be sick. Gemma recognized it as well from the stories she'd heard during their travels, though those were, of course, highly abridged versions, because no one told her anything!
"Azog is long dead," Thorin growled, finally breaking his silence, which pleased the Great Goblin greatly.
"Oh no, he is quite alive, and hunting for you relentlessly. You didn't know?"
Thorin looked ready to lunge at the creature's mocking tone, or possible burst into tears, but it was at that precise moment that one of the goblins, who had been snooping though the pile of the Company's belongings, unsheathed Thorin's elven sword, Orcrist. A great chorus of shrieks filled the pit as the goblins recoiled. "I know that sword! It is the Goblin Cleaver, slaughterer of thousands!" the Great Goblin cried. "Kill them! Rip them to shreds!"
The Company braced for a final stand, but salvation came as a bright light from a crumbled rock face. Through the void came Gandalf, and Gemma finally got to see what a brilliant wizard he was. But she wasted no time on amazement; instead she pushed off the now temporarily blind goblins that held her and lunged for the pile of their belongings, scooping up her gun and bag in one swift motion. As the light began to fade enough to see clearly, she yelled, "Well, come on. Fight!" The Company sprang into action as she fired a shot at the Great Goblin. It clipped his shoulder, causing him to roar in pain, but resulting in no serious damage. A pathetic shot, really, but she had forgotten her dislocated shoulder and did not account for it, the recoil sending a shot of pain though it. Still, the sound of the shot made all the goblins clutch their ears in pain, affording the Company a little bit more of a window of escape.
And escape they would. Gandalf in the lead, the Company took off running along the precarious bridges, the goblins soon to be hot on their heels.
AN:
This new chapter is coming a bit early, but it's not like I have a schedule. I'm not that organized. Anyway, I hope you guys liked it. Thanks again for the reviews, as always they are all really, truly appreciated. Seriously, 65 reviews already? We're only just over a quarter of the way through (there will most likely be 40 chapters). That seems insane to me. I love you all.
I'm pretty sure most of you have at least a vague idea of what's going on with Gemma, especially after this chapter. Chapters 14, 15, and 16 will revolve around that, so if you're still confused, don't worry, all will be revealed soon!
My second semester just started, and it's full of terribly difficult courses, so eventually updates will become more spaced out. But not yet, so enjoy all these quick ones while they last.
I hope you guys have a wonderful weekend, and don't forget to review. If you feel like it. I won't be offended if you don't. Well, maybe a little.