DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters or happenings of middle earth. They belong to J. R. R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson's and whoever else but not me. I only own my OC. Please, feel free to leave any comments and questions. Follow the story in whichever way you would like, but make your thoughts known. Thank you!

CHAPTER 31

I thankfully only feel the first strike against my 's all it takes for my defenses to kick in. My mind immediately floats in a daze, far away from what is happening to my body. I watch from a mentally protected bubble as my frame collapses on the ground and curls in on itself. The dwarves uselessly struggle against the masses of goblins tethering their limbs but it hardly matters as the Goblin King uses his staff to rain a few blows onto my side. My shell does not cry out, even when he strikes it harder. This angers him and I hear the howl for a message to be sent as he deliberately slices through the back of my shirt. The nearest goblins hiss in disapproval at finding my bindings instead of skin but there are more than enough claws to shred the meager protection.

Bones... shattered, necks... Wrung.

The distant song is so far away; I only catch snippets here and there. Fingers grasp my hair, pulling my prone form to its knees. My body coughs violently as the rope is tied around my neck. It turns into a choking wheeze when the other end is looped around a massive torture device and yanked. The rope cinches tightly, leaving burns in its wake just under my jaw. My body is risen into a standing position by my noose with my toes caressing the floor just enough to alleviate some of my weight from my neck.

Beaten... Battered... you'll be hung.

I watch distantly as my hands are gathered up and tied at my front, giving me a good guess at what the aim is. With a rough toss, my torso is spun away from the group to face the hoard. My feet momentarily lift off the ground because of the wide arc, before scrambling to hold my weight again. Any longer and my skull would surely lose its place in my spine. One of the minions behind my body tears off my cloak, revealing my now bareback their king. The crowd cheers and the dwarves cry out but it isn't until the first bite of blazing heat that I truly thank God for dissociation.

... Die down here... never found

The whip cracks in the air beside my ear twice before coming down on my back again. And again. And again. Even though my mind tries to protect itself from what is happening to my body, each strike pulls me closer to returning. It starts with the blood. I can feel it dripping into my clothes; the metallic stench wafting from the sullied floor to mingle with ages worth of sweat and fear. Then comes the electric currents of pain. Like lightning tearing across my skin. It is how I know that the goblin scum is toying with me. My back bleeds but not as intensely as it could. Or has. With a true crack of his whip, he could cripple me or even sever my spine but he is only striking hard enough to make me bleed. The cries from the dwarves become clearer and I know this show is for them. If I break too quickly, he'll have to pull another from their ranks too early in his game. It's laughable. Even so, my strength wanes with the added weight of the last unholy days and I start to lose the ability to hold myself up. Sinking my mind further into my body, I let the familiar pain roll off my back. 'He wants to play? Well then, so will I.' Taking a deep breath, I scream along with him at the top of my lungs the final line to his gruesome song.

"DOWN IN THE DEEP OF GOBLIN TOWN!"

My shout causes the cavern to stutter to a halt. My body morbidly sways, turning itself back around to face the main group. Judging by their faces, I must look quite the sight. I play into it, as well as I am able. Lifting my bound hands to point at the confused goblin lord, I speak to him directly.

"Nice song, but I didn't come here to be a toy."

"... I suppose you've been a plaything before." he sneers at me. I suppose I ruined his song AND game " I do not like broken dolls or leftover trash."

"Says the living cesspool of deplorable diseases." I offer him a smile as the blood from my split cheek paints my teeth red "It doesn't matter though, because the foe hammer will end you tonight."

"Who ARE you?"

"I am she who sees the brightness of the night with her eyes closed and I've seen your end. Remember, when your belly is split open, that it is penance for the sins done today."

To finish my show, I shut my eyes just as Gandalf's blinding explosion engulfs the room. Everyone is thrown off balance, myself included. The Breaker topples over, sending my body careening over the edge of the platform. With my neck still attached to it, I am not thrown clear off but hang I do. It isn't enough to snap my neck but the noose tightens, the rope becomes taut, and the edges of my vision become dark. There is no air to gasp for and my chest burns. My body twitches due to lack of oxygen as there is a boisterous war cry roused from the dwarves but after that, I know no more.

"Follow me!" Gandalf cries urgently, pulling any fallen dwarves he comes across to their feet. The moment his mind clears, Dwalin rushes to the platform edge. The wizard watches in confusion that quickly morphs into horror as the corpselike figure of the farseer is brought up. Her clothes are in tatters, covered in blood and filth. Her left cheek is split open causing the whole side of her face to swell into a purple mess. She hangs limply in the dwarf's arms as he cuts the rope from her and the wizard fears that she may well and truly already be lost. The group is being swarmed and there is not enough time to check "Quick! Run!"

The dwarves follow quickly, slicing their way through the bodies that are unlucky enough to get in their way. Dwalin remains in the center of the group, carrying his Only. There is no strength in her form to resist the jerking movements, only dead weight. His abilities would be most appreciated but passing the woman off to another could do more damage to her body. He wraps her tightly in her discarded clock in an attempt to minimize her jostling but he knows not if it makes a difference. Her face is both deathly pale and sickeningly colorful. Her limbs lay prone at her front. The silent fear of her fate runs rampant amongst the group but they keep going. They cannot stop. For every bridge they cross, another threatens to fall before them. Each goblin struck down is replaced by 3 more. Still, they forge forward. They become soaked in sweat and black sticky blood. It clogs their mouths and eyes, and they fail to see the Goblin King until he is bursting from the very ground before them. Trapped, Dwalin takes this moment to hand his charge over to the healer. Oin takes her gently without a word, allowing the dwarf to join the upcoming fray.

"She thought you could escape me?" he cackles, lobbing a glob of spit at the group "Ha! HAHAHAHAHA, I say! HA! What are you gonna do now, wizard?"

Just as Atina foretold, it is Glamdring that brings the Goblin King to his end. If the group had any doubts about her abilities before, they were completely eradicated in this moment. They are left to wonder why then, she would not have saved herself from the torment she endured. The rest of their escape is a blur to all. The great goblin is dispatched easily within three strikes. His weight collapses the bridge causing the company to plummet down the mountain innards but they are saved from death at the very end. Having reached the bottom of the mountain they all rush toward their only salvation: Daylight. It isn't until the next morning that they finally have a moment to breathe again.

This was a hard one to write. For those with gentle stomachs... thanks for hanging out but I'm not sure if this is the story for you. For everyone else, fasten your seat because our girl is only half way to the mountain.