CfChapter 26: Down and Outreach the

Thorin leaned against the cave wall, listening to the heavy breathing of the company as he turned the key to Erebor over in his hand. He let his head fall back against the rock behind him and squeezed his eyes shut trying to rein in his frustration. He knew he had overreacted when he had shouted at Sara and Master Baggins. He had startled and surprised Sara and he could still see the hurt that had been in her eyes. He had let his fear for her and his temper get the better of him … again. He knew he had been unfair with his harsh words and had upset the tender hearted hobbit. Guilt had washed through him when he had heard Sara talking to Mr. Baggins, trying to console and cheer him. His nephews had been short with him when they had come to inquire after his condition. Dwalin, however, had had no such compunctions, not holding back his low opinion of Thorin's reaction. The warrior had made it very plain he was displeased. Thorin grit his teeth still frustrated, though now mostly only with himself.

After his talk with Dwalin a few nights back, Thorin had given much thought to the warriors words and he had reached a tentative decision. He looked to where Sara sat on her bed, hunched over the device giving off light in her hand. He watched the way her expressions changed the longer she looked, and he noticed the dimple in her brow as she frowned. He felt a desire to reach out and smooth her face back into contentment. He sighed quietly. She had not looked at him once that evening, though he often looked to her, and he knew she must be avoiding him.

Fili and Kili has spent the whole evening with her and Mr. Baggins reassuring the hobbit with their company. Of course Bofur had gone and consoled the hobbit as had Balin, for all had heard the quiet conversation between the girl and their burglar. Even Bifur had tried to cheer the little fellow, in his own way, placing a little carved bird in the hobbit's hands. Several of the company were cool towards Thorin when they spoke to him. Oin and Gloin talked to no one other than each other. Thorin knew he would have to make amends to clear the air, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do it just yet. Humility was not one of his strong suits, neither was diplomacy as Balin had pointed out on several occasions.

The soft whimpers of the hobbit reached his ears and he watched Sara turn to look after her friend. Thorin envied the hobbit his ease with the girl. He heard Sara's soft curse as the light in her hand winked out and he watched as she got up and left the cave. Once she was gone, he got to his feet to relieve Nori of the watch. Perhaps he could speak with Sara when she returned without so many listening ears as an audience. Dwarf ears were good, but a sleeping dwarf heard nothing and that suited Thorin's purposes best.

"I will take the watch now," said Thorin quietly, tucking the key into the pouch at his belt. Nori stood, nodding and went to lie next to his brothers and Thorin waited for Sara's return. He had been watching for several minutes and thought he could just hear her returning footsteps when Bilbo bolted upright from his rest, breathing heavily. "Master Baggins," called Thorin, taking a few steps closer, but he stopped when he spied a faint blue glow near the hobbits hip. Quickly drawing aside his own cloak he drew Orcrist several inches from its sheath. The blade was glowing blue!

"Up!" he yelled. "Wake up! Now!" There was a groaning and creaking beneath his feet and the stone under him gave way. The last thing Thorin saw before he fell were the hobbit's terrified eyes. The entire company was sliding through a shoot … down … down. Thorin tried to stop his descent looking for a handhold but the stone was smooth to the touch and offered no purchase. He could see the others in front of him, some rolling rather than sliding along with their belongings.

"Be ready for a fight," he roared. "There are enemies nearby." He set his feet flat on the stone in front of him trying to slow and control the slide as sparks flew from the metal tips of his boots. Keeping one hand on the hilt of Orcrist ready to draw and one hand to the side to give himself support he steeled himself for whatever awaited them. There was a red glow growing up ahead and he could hear the shouts and cries of the others mixed with a horrible stony laughter. As he came sliding around the last corner he got his first look at the enemy. Goblins! A whole host of large squat creatures with wide grinning frog mouths filled with sharp teeth and jutting tusks; their bulbous yellow eyes were slited and set beneath wide bulls horns and pointed feline ears. He saw several of the others, most notably Dwalin and Fili fighting off the goblin hoards. Seeing the end of the shoot ahead Thorin leaned forward into a roll and bounded to his feet. He made to draw orcrist trying to shake off the strong clawed hands that reached for him. He could see several of the Goblins already lay dead upon the ground as he fought to be free of them.

"Halt," boomed a croaky voice. "Halt, or death comes to your kin." The air was filled with the deep chilling laughter or their captors. Thorin and the others stilled as the goblin ranks parted; there under the goblin's blade were Balin Kili and Ori. The largest of the goblins raised Balin's head off the floor by his white hair and held a blade to his throat while planting a foot in the dwarfs back. "Drop your weapons or see the old one's blood." Dwalin's axes hit the floor first, followed by the others weapons. Thorin released his grip on Orcrist and undid the strap holding a blade across his back, letting it fall to the ground at his feet. The Goblins gathered their dropped weapons and pulled the ones off Balin, Kili and Ori yanking the younger two to their feet and shoving them forward. Still holding a blade to Balin the goblin ordered, "Gather your packs."

Slowly the company began to move; apparently too slowly, for a goblin holding a whip began to lay into the slower dwarves. Ori caught a particularly nasty blow to the face making him cry out in pain, holding his cheek as blood dripped lazily from between his fingers. Dwalin turned, roaring as he punched the whipper, knocking him flat in one blow, Nori flanking him. The goblin did not get back up. There was a grunt of pain from Balin. "Try that again and this one dies," snarled the large goblin guard as blood ran down Balin's neck. "Grab your pack ... mule," goaded the goblin.

Thorin laid a hand on Dwalin's shoulder. "Save it," he muttered in dwarvish, pulling his friend away and raising his arm to catch the blow of a whip. Thorin pulled on his pack and pushed his way to stand near his sisters sons. Fili had Sara's pack, her staff having been taken, and Kili had her puzzlebox clenched in his hands, his knuckles and face white.

"Uncle, where is Sara?" whispered Kili in their native tongue, his head was swiveling, a panicked look on his face.

"She is not with us," added Fili quietly in their dwarvish conversation. "What happened to her?"

"She was outside on the mountain path when we fell," whispered Thorin. He was grateful that at least she was not captive with them.

"She's alone on the mountain path?" asked Fili, panic-stricken.

"Better for her to be out there than in here," said Dwalin darkly from beside them, his and Balin's bags on his back. "There is a reason we disguise our women when they travel lad. Were she here, she would likely be abused, tortured for sport." A whip fell on Dwalin and Thorin again. Luckily dwarf clothing was thick.

"Be silent!" growled the whipper, ending their secretive conversation. Dwalin spat at the goblin, earning another lash for himself. When they all have their belongings the goblins brought forth chains and manacles and shackled the company's right hands and feet in a long line keeping Balin aside but shackling his hands in front of him. Thorin tested the strength of the metal around his wrist and regrettably found it to be of sound make, he doubted if even Dori or Dwalin could break free. Gathering the torches from their brackets along the walls, the Goblins began to drive them forward, whipping them as they went. The leader of the horrible creatures kicked Balin before him sending him trotting forward. As they were dragged down into the goblin tunnels, Thorin worried for Sara. He hoped she would have the sense to follow the path out of the mountains and not try to follow them, if it were even possible that she could. Gandalf knew the course they had intended to take; perhaps he would be able to find her. He berated himself for not having apologized to her sooner. He may never get the chance now, for who knew what lay in front of them. Thorin's thoughts returned to the present with the snap of the whip on his ear and neck. He growled cursing the goblins as they yanked them forward faster. Their captors began to laugh and sing in their deep gravelly voices, keeping time with the snaps and cracks of the whips on their backs and heads. They had to get out of here, and though determined to escape and reunite with Sara, Thorin could not yet see how this was to be done. He would remain on his guard, watching, waiting for their chance. Mahal willing, there would be one.

As the Goblins finished what seemed to be an unending chorus of "Ho Ho, my lad," the tunnel opened into a large cavern, a blazing bonfire growling and popping in the center of the floor. On a raised dais in the lea of a looming rock slab sat an enormous goblin, a crown of bone atop his head. Thorin guessed the giant goblin would have towered over even Gandalf. To the right and left of his throne of carved stone and bone lay two enormous wolves. These were the wolves of the goblins, and were similar in size and temperment to the wargs of the orcs, but less intelligent and more volatile. Thorin knew there had long been an alliance between the wolves and the goblins. The company was led to stand clustered before the Goblin King who glowered down at them, fingering the horned scepter he held in his clawed hand.

"Who are these miserable persons?" he roared.

"Dwarves your malevolence," answered the goblin driver who held Balin chained before him. "We caught them sheltering on our front porch." Some of the other goblin guards brought the company's weapons forward and dropped them before their king in a heap.

"Thorin," whispered Bofur in dwarvish from beside him. "Where is Bilbo? Do you see him?" Thorin looked around but could not see their hobbit. He cursed. They had managed to get separated not only from Sara but Master Baggins as well.

"He fell with us," replied Thorin quietly. "But what became of him after that I do not know."

"I hope that he is all right," said Bofur, looking worried. "Perhaps he got away somehow." A whip snapped across their necks once, twice, a third time.

"Keep quiet," growled the goblin holding the whip. The Great Goblin was watching their exchange intently and Thorin glowered back at the hulking monstrosity.

"Search them," said the Goblin King. "Seize their belongings." The goblin guards moved among them, cutting their packs from their backs, turning out pockets, confiscating pouches, and anything that was not actually clothing. Their searching fingers pinched, poked, and grabbed unmercifully. Thorin felt sharp fingers wander over him and he held his breath praying they did not find the pouch he had tucked under his arm guard. For a moment he thought they would not, but then clever goblin fingers found it and yanked it from him. Thorin growled moving to take it back but was held at bay by a spear that prodded him back in line. He had to get back the pouch, for it held the key to Erebor. He could not lose it or the quest would be for nothing. Beside him Kili was trying to keep ahold of Sara's box and Fili was being thoroughly searched. When they were satisfied they had found all that the company had, the goblin guards added the small personal items to the pile of weapons at the Goblin King's feet. Other goblins began to go through their packs, searching for anything of value.

"Who are you?" asked the Goblin King addressing Balin who had been thrust forward by the goblin driver holding his chains. "What do you mean by it? Intruding on my kingdom, up to no good I would warrant. Spying on the private business of my people I shouldn't be surprised to learn. Murderers and friends of elves, not unlikely. Come, what have you to say for yourselves?"

"I am Balin," said the old dwarf giving a small bow. "Of the things which you suspect, we have no intent. We were merely seeking shelter from the stone giants and their storm when we happened upon your cave. We meant nothing by it, and certainly did not wish to cause inconvenience to you or your people."

"So you say," said the Goblin King pointing his scepter at Balin. "But what are you doing up in the mountains at all? Where are you going? Where do you come from and why? In fact I should like to know all about you, not that it will do you much good, for I do not like dwarves. Now tell me and truthfully, or I will prepare something particularly uncomfortable for you and yours."

As the Great Goblin had been speaking Fili had stepped closer to Thorin in the tight press of the group and Thorin felt the cool brush of metal passed into his hand. Apparently the goblins had not searched his nephew thoroughly enough, though Thorin was unsurprised as he slipped the dagger up under his arm guard. Fili was sometimes affectionately referred to as the company's walking arsenal. In truth he was not entirely sure where Fili hid all of his knives, but he was immensely glad at this moment for this particular quirk of his nephew's.

"We are but simple merchants from the Blue Mountains, journeying to see our kin in the Iron Hills," said Balin diplomatically. "For this reason we are traveling across your truly hospitable mountains."

"He is a liar oh truly tremendous one," said one of the goblin guards who had been rummaging through their bags. "There is nothing of value among their belongings. Furthermore several of our people were killed in the attempt to invite these dwarves below."

"Since you will not tell the truth willingly," said the Goblin King, his yellow slitted eyes gleaming with malice as his face broke into a frighteningly wide grin. "It would be our pleasure to persuade it from you." He turned to a goblin guard near him. "Bring out The Mangler and the Bone-Breaker." He turned back to the dwarves pointing out Ori and Kili. "Start with the youngest. Perhaps that will loosen some tongues."

"Wait," thundered Thorin stepping out of the group as far as his chains would allow. Several spears were thrusts towards him. The Goblin King's gaze was upon him now and with a gesture Thorin was cut from the chain, his hands shackled in front of him, and he was pulled forward to stand before the Great Goblin. The goblin lifted himself from his throne and came to circle Thorin as Balin was kicked back towards the rest of the company. As the goblin king came around into Thorns line of sight once again he saw the Goblins eyes flick to the bead lying on his shoulder and a deep gravelly laugh burbled up from within him.

"I know who you are, Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror king under the mountain. Indeed your name has been bandied around quite a bit as of late. You are in high demand Thorin Oakenshield, or at least your head is," sneared the goblin. "An old enemy of yours seems quite intent to see you dead. My people would garner great favor with the gathering hoards if we were to deliver them their coveted prize."

As Thorin listened his eyes shifted to the pile of belongings searching for his pouch containing the key. "I am aware someone wishes for my death," he said, his eyes still roaving the pile. "We have dealt with the immediate threat."

The Goblin King turned to him a smirk on his wide lips. "You would not say that if you knew who hunts you." There! Thorin had spotted the pouch sticking out from under Oin's ear trumpet. He tried to inch closer without drawing the notice of the goblins. "Your enemy is determined to finish what he started over a hundred years ago," continued the Goblin King, "With the death of your grandfather Thror." This got Thorin's full attention and he stopped his efforts to reach the key.

"Azog the defiler was destroyed," said Thorin spitting on the ground. "He was slain in battle long ago." But the renewed laughter of the Great Goblin and his minions brought back the old doubt. The defilers body had never been found, much like his father's. Could it be true? Could the vile enemy have survived? If so, then the company was in much greater danger than he had ever imagined. Azog was a very potent and dangerous adversary, not one to be underestimated.

The goblins laughter died down as the king regained his throne. "So you think his defiling days are over do you? Perhaps we shall deliver him the blond one first," he said pointing to Fili who's beads and braids were also plain to see. "Do you think the defiler would give him a brow to match Thror's?" Anger rose in Thorin and he turned to see the company pressed close around Fili and Kili whose expressions were grave. The Great Goblin turned to the guards near him. "Bring the young prince forward and we will see what sport we can make of him." The guards lunged forward and Thorin's fingers began to slip the knife from its hiding place. As a guard stomped past him, the goblins toe caught the hilt of Orcrist, drawing it from its sheath and sending the glowing blade spinning out into the middle of the floor. The Great Goblin let out a howl of rage bringing all else to a halt.

"Murderers! Elf friends! You are worse than thieves and liars, for I know that sword. It is called Biter and has taken many of our people. Seize him! Kill him! Cut off his head!" The guards turned to Thorin, lunging for him but he yanked the chain from the grip of the goblin who held him captive. Slipping Fili's knife from his arm guard he stepped out of the path of the charging goblin, swinging the chain down onto its head. The goblin wheeled around and lunged again, angrier than before. It collapsed before it's seventh step, another of Fili's knives sunk deep between his eyes. Nori stood aside from the others, somehow having broken free from his manicals, his hand extended and empty. Pandemonium broke through the air as the goblin horde howled and screeched in rage as the goblin drivers plied their whips to the company once again. The goblin who had held Thorin's chains stalked closer while the dwarf held him at bay whipping the air in front of him with the chain. The Goblin King barked out a command and the two wolves on either side of him leapt towards Thorin growling, their eyes rolling as the goblin driver backed away shrieking. Nori had raced to the pile of weapons rifling through it as the company tried to fight off their attackers, Dwalin sending several goblins sprawling. Thorin kept his attention on the advancing wolves. The closer of the two sprang at him knocking him backwards but Thorin plunged the knife into its neck, using his legs to kick the furred body over him, mirroring the move Sara had used on him mear days ago. The second wolf was closing in on his left and he rolled to the side bounding to his feet knife still held in his bloody hands. At that moment all the fires went out, plunging them into darkness. The large bonfire in the center of the room exploded into plumes of dark blue smoke and white dancing sparks that scattered the shrieking goblin horde. A long straight sword shone brightly of it's own blue light near the goblin king's throne. The giant goblin let out a cry of fright.

"I know that sword!" he cried cowering into his chair. "It is Glamdring the Foe Hammer. Beater!" And before he could utter another word Thorin saw the blazing blade slash straight through the Great Goblin, killing him. He heard the crack of the staff on the stone floor and as a brilliant blinding light enveloped him Thorin felt the shackles fall from his wrists clattering to the stone floor. The flash had sent the goblins flinching back and Gandalf stood in their midst.

"Take up arms!" he commanded. "Fight! Fight!" The company rushed to the pile of weapons, all save Oin in Ori who went to retrieve their packs, trusting in their fellows to gather their weapons. The fires in the braziers spring back to life and Thorin rushed to gather Orcrist and retrieve his pouch. He must have the key.

"Quickly follow me!" called the wizard, for the goblin hordes had recovered and were swarming angrily down upon them. Thorin scrambled frantically through the personal effects left by the others searching for the pouch. Dwalin stood beside him, braced to attack, his axes restored to his hands and Sara's stalf tucked beneath his belt.

"Thorin, we must go!" said Dwalin swinging at the goblin who was closest.

"Not without the key!" shouted Throin still looking in vain for the small pouch; but it was simply not there.

"We cannot hold them all off," said the warrior knocking back adversaries to the right and left without discrecion. The rest of the company had fled, following Gandalf into the tunnels. Roaring, Thorin rose and struck at a nearby goblin, cleaving it in two, venting his anger and frustration into the blows as he beat back the oncoming tide. They were forced to retreat into the tunnel and Dwalin pushed over the wide brazier that stood at the tunnels entrance spilling coals across the floor. They fled after the others, catching them quickly. They followed Gandalf's staff through the maze of goblin tunnels, their enemies shouts and cries echoing after them, growing ever closer. Thorin could see the light from the Goblins torches behind them and he urged those in front to go faster. The tunnel opened into a small chamber, several tunnels leading to and from it. As Thorin came into the open space he found Gandalf counting the dwarves as they passed.

"Thorin! Where are Bilbo and Sara?" asked the wizard grimly as he came into view.

He shook his head. "I do not know Gandalf. Sara is somewhere on the mountain pass; she did not fall with us. Bilbo is here in the mountain, but we got separated from him. He was not captured with us." Gandalf let out a string of curses Thorin was unfamiliar with and struck a crack near the ceiling of the tunnel they had just vacated with his stalf, causing rock and stone to fall choking the entrance.

"Fool," said Gandalf. "I only pray that we are able to find them again. Hopefully Bilbo's luck holds out. As for Sara, we are of no use to her under the mountain. We must find our way out." He turned and led company onward. "Come," he called over his shoulder. "We must reach daylight." They ran, following the wizard ever further into the mountain, stopping only to fend off the goblins behind them. Every step Thorin took agonized him. He had lost the key to Erebor and along with it all hope of returning his people to their rightful home. Even if he had the key, he had lost their burglar. He did not hold much hope that Mr. Baggins would ever be seen alive again, despite Gandalf's talk of luck. What made his steps heaviest though, were his fears for Sara. She was wondering the mountainside alone. The Goblin King's words rang in his mind. Could it be true? Was Azog alive? If so, even if they should reunite with the girl or hobbit, they would be far from safe. The guilt and fear ate at Thorin and he promised himself that if Mahal were merciful enough to let him find Sara again he would make things right. He would tell her. He would protect her and never let her out of his sight again. He only hoped he got the chance.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Gandalf led them out of the mountain into the fading light of evening. They had been in the goblin tunnels for the better part of a day. Gandalf led them down the mountainside a ways before stopping the group, counting to see that all that remained were still accounted for. They were still fairly high up and below them Thorin could see a river winding through the valley. The dwarves clustered around the gray wizard asking questions all at once.

"We have no time for reunions now," said the wizard raising his hands. "We must make haste. The goblins will swarm the mountainside ere the sun's light has faded."

"We have to go back up the mountain pass and find Sara," insisted Fili loudly. Several the others murmured their agreement.

"We must lose the goblins first," said Gandlaf. "Or we would only lead them after her. Once we are sure we have lost them, I will go back and find her." Thorin came to stand beside Gandalf ready to argue the point.

"What about Bilbo?" asked Bofur. "We can't just leave him." But before anyone could reply several howls rang through the evening air.

"Out of the frying pan," muttered Thorin darkly.

"And into the fire," finished Gandalf. "Run! Run!" Once again he turned to lead the dwarves Thorin could tell Gandalf was trying to lead them off the mountain and down into the valley, but there seemed to be enemies on all sides, driving them forward as they fled. They could see them now and again through the trees on either side, orcs and wargs alike, but they never came near enough to attack. Thorin could not think why, but their purpose became clear as the company was herded out onto a jutting precipice of rock that overlooked a dizzying drop. They had been chased into a trap and there was no way out except into the arms of their enemies.

"Quickly! Into the trees!" called Gandalf. "Climb!" Soon they were all in the branches of five pines that stood alone near the edge of the rock. The wargs snapped and jumped at their feet but as suddenly as they had appeared, they withdrew a distance, looking behind them to their companions joining them. Thorin was looking around to see how the others were faring when Bofur grabbed his arm tightly, his face ashen. He pointed back to their enemies and Thorin pushed aside a tree branch to get a better view and froze. There at the head of the group was Azog the Defiler astride his white warg. The Defiler's eyes locked with his and he began to laugh, calling to his underlings in balck speech but then turned his attention back to Thorin.

"Can you smell it?" he asked in the common tongue so Thorin could understand him. "The scent of fear," he said locking hateful eyes on the dwarf king. "I remember your father reeked of it Thorin son of Thrain. As did she in the end." He raised his left arm and on the clawed spike driven through what remained of his of his arm, hung a torn and bloody coat. Sara's coat! All hope of finding Sara Miller alive died in that moment. Thorin's mind went blank and he did not register Fili or Dwalin's shouts of rage and grief. What had he done? He had taken Sara with them despite the danger. He had fooled himself into believing that she would be safe with the company, that they could protect her. But there was her coat, hanging from Azog's clawed appendage. He had surely killed her, and knowing his enemy, it had not been a merciful thing. Thorin cried out in grief. After nearly losing her the first time he should have left her in Rivendell. He had perhaps meant to several times but he had let his emotions and desires outweigh his common sense, and now Sara was dead at the hands of the enemy who had hunted him.

Azog gave a command in Black speech pointing at Thoin and the wargs bounded forward leaping and snapping at the branches they could reach. The tree began to sway and crack under their combined weight and Thorin snapped back to the present as the tree he was in began to creak and pop, falling into the tree behind them. He, Bofur, Bombur and Bifur leapt into the tree where Balin and Dwalin were perched, but the tree began to tip as had the last. They leapt from tree to tree as the wargs below brought them down one after the other, until the whole company where crowded into the branches of the large pine that stood at the very tip of the rocky bluff.

A blazing pine cone flew past Thorin's ear landing among the downed trees in front of them, instantly igniting them. He looked up to see Gandalf, Fili, and Kili in the topmost branches throwing the fiery projectiles, dropping some to their companions below. Thorin caught one and hurled it at a warg that was trying to find a way through the flames. Seeing they had driven their enemies back, several of the company gave a cheer, but were cut short as the tree groaned ominously tipping out over open-air, only stopping when the roots held strong. How had it come to this? They were hanging over a precipice, the only escape was through their enemies, and they had lost the key. The quest was over. They had lost there hobbit. Throin had lost Sara!

The flames parted and there was Azog leaning over his white mount, sneering as he dropped Sara's coat into the flames. "I took great pleasure in defiling that what you cherish Oakenshield," he goaded. Grief and rage filled Thorin, warring inside him, as he got to his feet, walking numbly down the trunk of the tree drawing Orcrist. He did not hear the cries of Balin or the others as he broke into a run determined to take his mortal enemy down with him. He did not care that he might die. If he took the white demon with him, if he could give the company a chance to escape, if he could save others from this aching loss he felt, then yes that would be enough. That would be worth it.

He charged Azog, his sword raised, but the white warg leapt over him, knocking him down. He staggered to his feet to see Azog charging him, his finned mace raised as he brought it crashing down into Thorin's shoulder and face. His vision faded in and out as he rolled onto his hands and knees shaking his head trying to bring everything back into focus. There was a sudden crushing pressure in his chest and shoulder and he cried out in pain as teeth sunk into his flesh shearing muscle from bone. The pain burned away the fog in his mind momentary and Thorin brought the hilt of Orcrist down on the muzzle of the white warg with all his remaining strength. The beast jerked away and threw him through the air. He landed on a rocky outcropping and fought to stay conscious. The pain in his shoulder seared through him leaving his appendages feeling cold. The felt cool press of metal on his neck and he opened his eyes to see an orc standing above him, its weapon raised high over its head. There was a swift flash of blue light and the orc fell back dead. Thorin watched confused as a small blue sword disappeared into thin air tip first. That was Bilbo's little sword! He could hear the battle cries of the others who had swarmed from the tree beating back the orcs. As Thorin tried to keep the cold and dark at bay, he thought he saw Bilbo's face pop into existence before him just as his world faded to black.