"Bones will be shattered, necks will be wrung,

Beaten and battered, from racks you'll be hung,

You'll lie down here and never be found,

Down in the deep of Goblin Town!"

The screeching and caterwauling song positively assualted your ears while Goblins shoved and jostled you and your companions around. You scowl, baring your teeth, but the goblin manhandling you is unfazed, gnashing it's decaying fangs.

Nearby, some more of the foul creatures are rifling through the pile of weapons they confiscated from you all, clearly scavenging for valuables. But all at once, they jump back, screeching in fear. Even the Goblin King jumps back, fright and horror written upon his face.

"I know that sword! It's the Goblin Cleaver! The biter, the blade that sliced a thousand necks!"

The Goblin's eyes are slits of anger.

"Slice them! Beat them! Kill them, kill them all!"

He points to Thorin with one grotesque finger.

"Cut off his head!"

Goblins start beating you with clubs, evil etched on their grotesque faces. You struggle against them, desperate to get to Thorin, to defend him. You cry out as a particularly low placed blow hits you in the ribs. You fall to the ground, winded, and the goblins roar with glee. Hobnailed feet kick at you, and you curl up in a foetal position, blows raining down upon you.

We're dying. We're all going to die.

And Thorin will never know how I feel.

The weight of these thoughts threatens to crush your brain, and you feel like giving up hope. Closing your eyes, you prepare for the worst.

A tremor in the ground next to you makes you open your eyes. It's Thorin, he has fallen to the floor next to you. His blue eyes meet yours, and the word seems to slow and go silent around you. The goblins movements seem in slow motion, their blows don't hurt you anymore. You're lost in his eyes, lost as you gaze into them.

"Don't give up," his whisper reaches your ears through the silence, as you lie transfixed before him.

"Don't give up on me, Y/N."

You see the goblin's knife descend towards his neck.

Then the world is white, blindingly white. Goblins fly through the air, limbs flailing, as a shockwave rocks the cavern.

After a moment of lying stunned, you pick yourself up, hauling Thorin, who is miraculously unhurt and still with a head, to his feet. Your eyes land on the source of the blast; Gandalf, staff extended, sword drawn, and a gleam of blue fire in his eyes.

"Take up arms!" The wizard calls to your companions, who have begun to stir amongst the forms of prone goblins. "Fight! FIGHT!"

With a cry, they spring into action, grasping their weapons and attacking the bewildered goblins.

"He weilds the foe hammer, the beater, as bright as daylight," The Goblin King calls balefully from his position as his minions tried desperately to form any semblance of defence.

Grabbing his mace, the horrid creature advances toward you, swinging wildly. Weaponless, you back away, trying desperately to avoid his blows. "Time to die, wench," he hisses, greasy locks of hair hanging in his face.

Then Thorin is in front of you, clashing his blade against the crude weapon. Off balance, the Goblin king totters backwards and falls over the edge of the cliff, several of his smaller counterparts dragged with him.

Fili throws you your sword, and you catch it, twirling and beheading a goblin advancing toward you. Stabbing, thrusting and charging your way through the throng, you and your Companions make your escape, Gandalf leading the way. "Follow me! Quick, run!" He urges you all, and you dash after him as fast as your legs could carry you.

You and your companions race through Goblin town, hacking your way through the hordes of goblins pursuing you and blocking the pathway. Ropes were cut, bridges jumped off, and even at once stage, a ladder was used to clear the path of the berserk creatures. Everything was a blur of activity, and you could only recall snatches of it. Dwalin hacking at a group of goblins surround him, face an image of ferocity. Fili slicing the ropes off a bridge, and jumping off and into Thorin's arms just in time as the bridge collapsed into a chasm, taking a troupe of goblins with it. Exhaustion beckoned as you panted for breath, but the fear and adrenaline kept you going. The image of that knife against Thorin's throat....

As you and your Companions crossed yet another bridge, a large, morbidly obese figure crashed onto the path, blocking the way. It was the Goblin King, back again. Your fingers wrapped even tighter around your sword, goblin blood dripping slowly off the end of it. Who knew how many you and your companions had slain so far, and it appeared the bloodshed was only going to continue.

"You thought you could escape me?" The foul creature snarls, crown of bones askew on his mishappen head.

Gandalf's staff jabs out of nowhere, poking the Great Goblin in the eye. With a howl of pain, he is distracted, grabbing at his eye as Glamdring slices a thick cut across his abdomen, causing the goblin to fall to his knees.

"That'll do it, " the dazed creature mutters, before a quick slice from Gandalf's sword slits his throat. With a thud, his bloated body hits the bridge floor, and with an ominous cracking sound, the bridge collapses beneath his weight, taking you and your companions screaming into the dark crevasse.

And that was the end of you, Thorin, and your companions.

Just kidding.

Your screams and the roaring of the wind deafened your ears as you and your companions hurtled further and further down into the darkness. Closing your eyes, you prepared to die for the second time that day.

However, to your surprise, your fall into death seemed to be slower than you first thought. The wood from the rickety bridge scraped against the side of the chasm, slowing your descent, and hit the ground atop a pile of boulders. The impact was still painful, jarring your limbs, but you were alive, and grateful for that.

From the groans and curses of your companions amidst the dusty debris, you conclude that everyone has mercifully survived.

"Well that could've been worse," Bofur jokes, and no sooner had the words left his mouth that the Goblin King's disgusting corpse landed on top of all of you, much to the distaste of your companions.

"You've got to be joking!" Dwalin growled, trying to wriggle out from the crushing weight.

One by one, your companions help each other from the wreckage. You're waiting patiently to be pulled out when a pair of strong arms seize you under your arms from behind, and you are dragged back upright. Turning around, you realise it's Thorin, who immediately checks you up and down for injuries, brow furrowed.

"Are you alright?" He asks quietly, pain evident in his voice, worrying you.

"Yes, Thorin, I'm fine, thank you," you smile wryly, and quickly look him over with concern. "Are you?"

"Yes," he answered, then continued, the pained look still on his face.

"I'm so sorry about what that filthy creature said to you." He glowers in the direction of the Great Goblin's corpse.

"I know you didn't want our companions knowing, and I'll have a word with them all about it later if you wish. I don't want them treating you differently because if what some goblin scum," he spat on the ground. "Said about you".

"Thorin, it's ok," You smile again half-heartedly. "I can explain to them myself later. Don't fret."Before you can stop yourself, your hand reaches out and strokes his cheek, the hairs of his beard tickling your palm.

"Gandalf, there's more coming! Kili shouts desperately, and the moment is broken. The young dwarf points in the direction you all fell, and in the distance you see a wave of goblins climbing headfirst down the steep slope.

"We can't fight them all!" Kili turns to the Company, a look of desperation in his eyes.

"Only one thing will save us," Gandalf booms in his sonorous voice "Daylight. Come, get on your feet!"

He sweeps away further into the cavern, you and your companions dashing behind him. Fili and Kili run on either side of you, hair streaming in the breeze. You're grateful both of them are unhurt, they're your closest friends in the company, despite the fact you're fairly acquainted with everyone.

After a while more of running through blindly through darkness, a fork in the path showed light. The sun's setting rays shone through the end of the path as Gandalf ushered you all through it, blue eyes shining with urgency.

Once again, Middle-Earth is laid before you, and the view was enviable. But there was no time to admire it's beauty. You and your companions dashed down the slope, dodging trees and rocks that appeared beneath you. Exhaustion began to bite at your limbs once again, and much to your relief, Gandalf called the company to a stop a short while later. The mountain you had all emerged from glowered above you in the distance.

Gandalf was murmuring to himself as he did a head count, brow furrowed as he ensured that all of the Company had made it. His frown deepens.

"We're one short. Where's the hobbit?"

"Curse the Halfling, he's lost," Dwalin spat, scowling at the ground.

"I thought he was with Dori!"

"Don't blame me!" the dwarf in question exclaims, and everyone continues to bicker. Fili and Kili look around in confusion, searching for the lost hobbit. You feel a pang of loss and sympathy for Bilbo. He had probably been lost in the goblin caves, and was unlikely to return alive.

"I think I saw him slip away when they first collared us," Nori ventures, and Thorin interjects.

"I'll tell you what happened."

The company falls silent, looking to their leader for guidance.

"Master Baggins saw his chance and took it." Thorin's voice is dripping with disdain.

"He's thought of nothing but his soft bed and warm hearth since he stepped out of his door. We won't be seeing our hobbit again. He's long gone."

"No he's not."

Everyine spins at the sound of the familiar voice, to see Bilbo step out from behind a tree. Shock and relief flood you, and you step forward and embrace him. Bilbo awkwardly returns your hug, before turning his attention back to the company.

"Bilbo Baggins," beams Gandalf. "I have never been so glad to see anyone in my entire life!"

"Bilbo, we'd given you up! " Kili wonders. "How did you get past the goblins?"

"How indeed?" Dori queries, and Gandalf quickly interjects.

"What does it matter," he says cheerfully, almost too cheerfully in your opinion. "He's back now".

"No."

Thorin steps forward. "It matters. I want to know". He turns his piercing gaze onto the hobbit. "Why did you come back?"

"Look, I know you doubt me," Bilbo began after a short pause, and Thorin's brow furrowed even more. Oh Mahal.

"I know you always have, and you're right."

"I often think of Bag End. I miss my books, and my arm chair, and my garden. See thats where I belong, that's home, and that's why I came back."

"Because you don't have one," Bilbo says bluntly, but not unkindly. "It was stolen from you. And I will help you take it back, if I can."

Your heart swells at the hobbit's kind words, and your companions cheer softly. Thorin stands stock still, still gazing at Bilbo, but there is a ghost of a smile upon his face.

"Awoooooooooooooooooo."

The sound of the howl makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. More howls are heard from the base of the mountain you had fled from. Wargs.

"Out of the frying pan..." Thorin began grimly

"-and into the fire!" Gandalf finished, glancing around hurriedly. "Run, you fools, run!"