I sat slouched against Bofur, who had decided that he'd take the second watch to allow me sleep. My body felt pleasantly numb all over, my eyelids felt fuzzy and my lashes tickled my cheeks. I hadn't realized how exhausted I'd been until I had actually tried to stay awake.

I had kept watch for a little over three hours Before Bofur woke up, told me he wanted me to get some rest and sat down beside me, letting me sleep against his shoulder. My hair had been pulled back and braided and I was now drifting between sleep and consciousness. I had always slept that way; hovering in the space between, my mental body in some other plane where dreams fell away and sounds that occurred in the vicinity hypnotized me.

I was resting in a field, green and lush. The sky was lavender with a pale moon looking down at me from the west, while the sun lingered above a distant mountain range in the east. I was lulled into complacency by silence and I had lost the ability to move, staying stiff as stone.

There was a stir of movement somewhere, but I let it fade away, hidden in the back of my mind. There were footsteps on the stone ground, padding closer. I assumed it was a dwarf, come to take Bofur's place and I felt my lips twitch into a shallow frown.

Bofur twitched beside me, straightening up. "Where do you think you're going?" My eyes fluttered but didn't open. I pushed myself upright and rubbed my eyes with my left hand's knuckles. Once they were open, I could see Bilbo. His bag was packed and mounted on his back; his sword was on his belt, and he bore a walking stick in his hand.

"Back to Rivendell." Bilbo whispered back. Bofur jumped up, walking towards Bilbo. I stared tiredly at Bilbo, but sadness ebbed at my facial expression. Did Bilbo really come this far just to turn back now.

No, no, you can't turn back now, eh?" Bofur whispered in the dark, "You're part of the company. You're one of us." Bofur assured him.

"I'm not, though, am I?" Bilbo said shaking his head and looking at me for a brief moment. "Thorin said I should never have come, and he was right." Bilbo said, and I detected a hint of sadness in his tone. "I'm not a Took. I'm a Baggins. I don't know what I was thinking. I should never have run out my door." Bilbo looked at his wooly feet, embarrassed that he was turning away now.

"You're homesick. I understand." Bofur assured him.

"No, you don't! you don't understand." Bilbo whispered, pointing at Bofur. "None of you do. You're dwarves!" Bilbo insisted and looked back at me, "You're used to this life living on the road, never settling in once place, not belonging anywhere!" Bilbo said. He had done it... he had finally snapped and spoke his mind. His words stung, and all at once I wasn't tired anymore. Bofur visibly sagged and I looked away from Bilbo, seeing his face dawn with the realization of what he had said.

"Oh, I am sorry. I didn't –" Bilbo cleared his throat, unable to find an excuse for his behavior.

"No, you're right." Bofur said in a quiet voice and looked back at our companions. "We don't belong anywhere." Bofur looked back at Bilbo who avoid eye contact for the time being. "I wish you all the luck in the world. I really do." Bofur put a hand on Bilbo's shoulder and Bilbo smiled at him.

I stood up and felt pain shoot through my body, I gripped the wall and Bilbo furrowed his brow, but I shook my head, indicating I didn't want to explain now. I didn't wait for the sting to wear off and instead, I walked over to Bilbo and wrapped my arms around him, embarrassing him fondly. Bilbo gingerly hugged me back and I closed my eyes. I felt like I would never see him again.

"Good luck, Bilbo." I whispered and stepped back, looking into his eyes with sincerity, "I hope you have a safe journey." Bilbo nodded and reached out, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Goodbye, Valerie." He whispered. I watched as Bilbo turned, ready to step out into the night. The rain had slowed to a stop, but that didn't mean the path back wouldn't be dangerous. I worried for my friend.

"What's that?" Bofur asked and Bilbo turned back, looking questioningly at Bofur and followed his gaze down to his belt where his sword hung. There was a soft blue glow emanating from the small crack that separated the blade from the sheath. Bilbo's eyes widened as he took hold of the handle and lifted it a few inches out of the sheath. It was glowing; the actual blade was glowing blue.

Bilbo's face turned to one of shock as he met my eyes then Bofur's.

There came a groaning sound and I looked down – for that is where the sound originated from. The ground was groaning and the dirt that was layered over the stone began to slide, spilling between crevasses that had not been there before.

"Wake up!" I jumped as Thorin jerked awake. "Wake up!" He shouted once more. Everyone started upwards and Bofur exclaimed as the ground tilted inwards.

I yelped as the ground opened up beneath me and I fell straight down. I fell beside the dwarves. Blankets and bags flew around and I angled myself to slow my fall, only to have my back slam into something hard and cold. My head whipped back and banged against the stone. Dots and stars swam in my vision danced as I slid – dazed – across a sloping stone tunnel. I was unable to see what was going on about me as I was knocked into sides of the tunnel. I slid sideways, even going upside down for a brief moment before the tunnel stopped abruptly, dropping us down what seemed to be fifteen feet into a wooden bowl like trap.

I landed hard at the bottom of the pile that inevitably followed. I was completely out of breath and something warm and wet was dripping down my chest and soaking through my shirt. My head throbbed and having thirteen dwarves and a hobbit land on top of me did nothing to help that.

I didn't realize I had had cried out in pain until Balin spoke. "Lassie! Are you alright?" I struggled to speak for a moment before I found my voice.

"I'm fine. Having everyone land on my ribs distracts from... the other bruises..." I grumbled. I could feel my shirt stickling to both my skin and the floor with the aid of my blood. I must have opened up the cuts; at least one of them.

There was a screech and that is when all heck broke loose. Every dwarf started struggling which only pressed me even harder into the floor. I groaned but was surprised when the weight began to lift, and I could hear the other shouting. There were shouts of shock and fear, even anger. I was wrenched off the floor and forced to face one of the most degusting creatures I have ever seen in my life.

The goblin – for that was what it was – gipped me by my shoulders. It was tall, disproportionately built with a hulking body and twiglike limbs. Its head was attached directly to his torso, and I could not see any signs of a neck beneath his sagging sallow skin. He was covered in warts and boils with pointed ears that looked like they had been chewed by bats, and wild canary-yellow eyes.

My gag reflex begged me to throw up right then and there, but I had not time. The goblin pushed and shoved me behind a trail of dwarves. We were herded like cattle. The air was filled with goblins' howls, screeches, and squeals. My ears felt as though they might burst. I was tossed and pulled, pinched, and growled at.

We were led over rickety wooden bridges as I staggered as best as I could along with my companions. The screeching never ceased as the cavern yawned open around us. There were tunnels and wooden bridges that spanned the great space, lit by torches, and infested with the creatures.

Walking into a goblin nest could be likened to an ant hive. There were goblins everywhere! One could not find a single corner where a goblin wasn't lurking and plotting to kill or eat you. I felt my stomach acid bubble up in my chest. I was going to be sick.

There was the sound of metal being beat upon, the strange sound accompanied by screeching and other discordant instruments that had been constructed by the creatures here. The sound was brutal and horrid, but I couldn't help but sense that it had a musical tinge to it. The sound was by far the worst, most vile, disgusting, disturbing sound I had ever heard in my life, and I hated it with a burning passion.

We were led into what looked like the center of their hive, all the goblins in the tunnels must have gathered here. It was a sea of warts and boils, parting as we were taken down towards a wooden platform. I could just make out the top of a throne – which looked to be made of bones – peeking out from above the heads of the crowd that dragged us closer.

"I feel a song coming on..." Somebody growled over the noise. Oh gosh. I pressed my hand to my chest, trying to stem the flow of blood that painted my chest. There was definitely not as much blood as last time, and it seemed to be coming much slower than before, but it still made me sick to smell it.

We were led down a narrow path to a wooden platform where a voice sang rather loudly, and off-key.

"Clap, snap the black crack,

grip, grab, pinch and nab,

batter and beat, milk 'em,

stammer and squeak!"

The goblins parted before us and we were met with the largest goblin – I was sure – anyone had ever seen. It was around eleven feet tall, stout with skin that bulged with fat and waste. Its entire body shook with every breath and its sallow skin hung off it. Its neck had been stretched out so much that it hung a few inches above his bellybutton. He was covered with warts and boils and bellow him lay a pile of goblins that he stepped down on and staggered onto the wooden platform; nearly falling backwards.

"Pound, pound far underground!"

The goblin howled shrilly, and I clapped my hand over my ears. Spit splattered across the ground in front of the group and I stifled a gag. I was alarmed when the goblin king began to dance around; his body jiggled as he moved about rather ungracefully. The other goblins chimed in loudly.

"Down, down, down in Goblin-Town

down, down, down in Goblin-Town!

With a swish and a smack,

and a whip and crack,

everybody talks when they're on my rack,

pound, pound, far underground.

Down, down, down to Goblin-Town.

Hammer and torch, get out,

your knockers and gongs,

you won't last long on the end of my prongs."

The Goblin pounded his staff on the ground and demonstrated that last part of the verse by skewering a smaller goblin on the end of it and flinging him over our heads. I ducked and Ori grabbed my arm, eyes wide.

"Clish, clash, crush and smash,

bang, brake, shiver and shake,

you can tell it and yelp,

but there ain't no help.

Pound, pound, far underground,

Down, down, down in Goblin-Town!"

The Goblin spun abut on the tips of his toes and we ducked to avoid the prongs on the end of his staff as he swung it over our heads. Cheers rose up from the goblins, but I stared in shock and horror at the large Goblin, who stopped and banged his staff on the ground once to signal the end of the song.

Goblins chittered excitedly and quieted down as the great goblin turned and stepped on a pile of his smaller goblin servants, using them as a stepstool up to his throne. The goblins squealed in protest as their ribs were crushed under his weight and I winced in sympathy for the pathetic creatures.

"Catchy, isn't it?" The goblin king asked deviously, "It's one of my own compositions."

"That's not a song," I turned, hearing Balin's voice beside me, "that's an abomination!" The goblins howled angrily, but the king only chuckled.

"Abominations. Mutations. Deviations." The great goblin sneered, "That's all you're gonna find down here."

My body was abruptly wrenched to the side by a thin goblin with long spindly fingers that picked my swords off my belt and tossed them away from me. I stared as my blades clattered upon the wooden platform; joined by Dwalin's axes, Bofur's mattock, Ori's sling shot, and various swords from the others.

Once the clattering of weapons and screeching stopped, the great Goblin stepped back down from his throne and leaned down menacingly towards us. "Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?" he growled, "Spies? Thieves? Assassins?" he yowled like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

"Dwarves, your malevolence." A small goblin informed his king.

"Dwarves?" the great gobbling king roared.

"We found 'em on the front porch." The small goblin confirmed and pointed at us. My brow furrowed, and my nose wrinkled subconsciously. Are they implying that the cavern we had been sleeping in – the cavern that had opened up beneath us and dropped us here – was a porch?

"Well, don't just stand there. Search them!" The goblin kin roared, pointing at us, "Every crack! every crevasse!" He snarled. Hands surged towards me as I was poked and prodded.

The goblin that had grabbed be first – back in the tunnels – tugged my hair so examine my back and belt, finding nothing. My legs were patted down, and my boots temporarily confiscated and searched. The only thing the goblins found, was a handful of pebbles and dirt in my boots.

I snatched my boots back and put them on as the goblins left me alone; continuing to search the others.

There was a rather loud clatter and I turned, seeing that a goblin had emptied Nori's bag, finding all sorts of silver and gold cutlery, candlesticks and expensive looking salt and pepper shakers.

"It is my belief, your great protuberance," the small goblin spoke up again, holding up a golden candelabra, "that they are in league with elves!" The large goblin took the candelabra from the small goblin and looked it over, turning it upside down and looking at the bottom side of it.

"Made in Rivendell." He observed with a scoff, "Ah, second age. Couldn't give it away." He scoffed; tossing it over the side of the platform and into the abyss bellow us.

Every head of the company turned to looked exasperatedly at Nori, who met Dori's disapproving gaze. "Just a couple of keepsakes." Nori defended himself. I wanted to pull my hair out. First, we stole from elves, then I clobbered one in the head with a chair leg. Gosh, I felt like an idiot.

"What are you doing in these parts?" the goblin asked loudly, looking over us. Bifur and Kili discreetly moved in front of me, trying to hide me from the eyes of the goblin king.

I stood out like a sore thumb. I was taller than the others, and not to mention pale as the moon with silvery hair. I wished – in that instant – that I was a turtle who could retreat into her shell and stay there until it was over.

"Uh, don't worry, lads. I'll handle this." Oin said, walking between Thorin and Bifur, stepping up to the front of the company.

"No tricks!" the great goblin warned with a yellow-toothed grin that made my stomach churn, "I want the truth. Warts and all." I glowered at him.

"You're going to have to speak up." Oin spoke, "Your boys flattened my trumpet." Oin held up his bronze trumpet which had indeed been flattened.

"I'll flatten more than your trumpet!" The goblin roared, stomping towards us – the platform shuddering with every step –.

The dwarves shouted protests as the great goblin approached us, and Bofur elbowed his way to the front. "If it's more information you want, then I'm the one you should speak to." Bofur spoke up and the goblin stopped, looking down expectantly at Bofur.

It took only a moment for a plan to form in Bofur's eyes. "We were on the road. Well, it's not so much a road as a path." Bofur spoke, hesitating a moment before continuing, "Actually, it's not even that, come to think of it. It's more like a track."

The goblin king looked as though his patience was wearing dangerously thin.

"Anyway, the point is, we were on this road, like a path, like a track. And then we weren't, which is a problem," Bofur said, shrugging, "because we were supposed to be... in Dunland last Tuesday." Bofur said.

Dori grabbed Bofur's arm and nodded, "Visiting distant relations." He added, and Bofur nodded.

"Some inbreds on me mother's side." Bofur confirmed and opened his mouth to continue, but he was immediately cut off by the roar of the goblin king.

"Shut up!" he howled so loudly, every goblin in attendance went squeaked before going quiet and stared at their king; whose face turned as red as a beet with boils.

"If they will not talk, we'll make them squawk!" the goblin king announced. A cheer from the other goblins sprang up, "Bring up the mangler! Bring up the bonebreaker!" he growled, and pointed at Ori, "Start with the youngest!"

My heart sprang into my throat as the goblins around us turned to Ori who was petrified with fear. Instinctively, I shoved a pair of goblins aside and stepped in front of Ori – eyes flashing – and I held my arms out protectively and snarled at the goblins. Ori grabbed one of my hands and I gripped his tightly.

A goblin approached me with a large club and sung it at me. I stepped back, just in time to avoid a blow to my jaw – eyes wide –.

"Wait!" A voice rang out and I turned to see Thorin, stepping out of the crowd. At first, I doubted that the goblins would know who Thorin was, but I was quickly corrected by the menacing gleam in the goblin king's eyes.

"Well, well, well," The goblin king mused, "look who it is. Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, king under the mountain." The goblin stooped into a low bow with a sneer and the goblins jeered and cackled. "Oh, but I'm forgetting; you don't have a mountain, and you're not a king, which makes you... nobody, really." The goblin king pouted mockingly, and I saw Thorin's jaw clench.

"I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head." The goblin sneered, "Just a head; nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak, an old enemy of yours." Thorin's eyes narrowed at this threat. "A pale orc, astride a white warg." Was this goblin talking about Azog? I looked between Thorin and the goblin king, trying to connect the dots.

"Azog the defiler was destroyed." Thorin growled, "He was slain in battle long ago." Thorin insisted.

The goblin leaned in with a sickening sneer and a wave of bad breath. "So, you think his defiling days are done, do you?" he cackled and turned about, talking to a small goblin that held a piece of parchment and a quill. "Send word to the pale orc. Tell him I have found his prize."

The small goblin pulled on a rope cord and he was sent down a line of rope that led down into one of the million tunnels that wove within the rocky earth...