Especial – Fanfic Hobbit

Cuando la Compañía de Thorin llega a Ereborn, jamás pensaron encontrarían algo mucho más siniestro y letal que un dragón.

Nota: Este fanfic contiene dos referencias a la pareja Thorin x Bilbo.

"Far over the misty mountains cold.

To dungeons deep, and caverns old."

 

Misty Mountains Cold

EpicEpeolator

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Dark. It’s been dark for ages, Bilbo feels. Night with no stars. Deep water with no bottom. They’ve been locked in this chamber for what feels like days but had probably only been hours. They’d gotten there, Erebor, had seen it before their eyes and had been prepared to fight Smaug. They hadn’t been prepared for what they’d actually found.

When Bilbo had crept through the secret door into Smaug’s throne-room, he’d been terrified. He’d had on the magic ring, knew he couldn’t be seen, maybe that’s why Smaug wasn’t moving. The great beast lay on his piles of coins, but even in the stale and still air of the chamber Bilbo couldn’t hear breath. It was silent.

Heart beating like a rabbit’s and fear like claws in his chest, Bilbo crept further into the chamber. There was no light save his own torch and he feared the light would wake the dragon, but to put it out was also unreasonable, as he’d never get back through the halls of Thorin’s home without some light.

The closer he got the more clear it became that Smaug wasn’t moving at all. His great scaled back faced Bilbo, the ridges of his spine prominent and poking out of his skin. Bilbo hadn’t heard breath because there was no breath coming from this dragon.

‘Do dragons shed their skin?’ Bilbo wondered as he snuck around the beast’s tail and to the other side. If they did, he’d have trouble when the dragon got back and saw him. Though as soon as Bilbo got around to the dragon’s belly, he knew that would no longer be a problem.

“Durin’s name… “ Bilbo felt sick, almost dropping his torch in favor of retching onto the ground. Where there should have been smooth scales along Smaug’s belly was rotted flesh congealed with blood, yellowed bones visible under the flaps of skin and little white and black bits of moving hide which Bilbo quickly realized were maggots, as he dry heaved convulsively.

‘Thorin, Thorin, help!’ Bilbo cried internally, but of course he wouldn’t be heard. Oh, Aulë, save him, it looked like the dragon had been destroyed by teeth.

He collected himself enough to stumble out of the room and up the passageway, too distressed to worry about looking for possible attackers.  He found the entrance once again and threw himself out of it, into the arms of his waiting company, sobbing and retching and pawing desperately at Thorin, trying to not think about what he had seen.

“Halfling. Halfling, what’s wrong? Bilbo! Speak to me, what’s happened, are you hurt?” Questioned Thorin, trying to pull Bilbo off so he could reassure himself that his Halfling was unharmed.

“Thorin- the dragon, Smaug-“ Bilbo choked out. Thorin’s face hardened and he reached for his sword, fully prepared to go in and battle the creature who’d hurt his hobbit, good sense be damned.

“No, Thorin!” Wailed Bilbo, grabbing onto his King’s cloak and holding fast. “He’s dead, Smaug’s dead, something ate him, I don’t know what, there was so much blood, it was crawling, I can’t-“ Bilbo shuddered, nearly screaming at the memory, still fresh and vivid. The room hadn’t stunk of rotted flesh until he’d gotten quite close, so who knows how long the dragon had been sitting there? Long enough for the stench to recede but not long enough for maggots to run out of meat.

Thorin gathered the hysterical hobbit into his arms, murmuring soothingly to him in an attempt to quiet the wracking sobs coming from Bilbo. He gestured towards the passageway with his head, stepping through and expecting his dwarves to follow.

Down through the narrow and suffocating passageway, into the throne-room, Thorin tried to decipher Bilbo’s words. Smaug was dead and he’d been gnawed on by rats, perhaps. But then how had the dragon died?

Reaching the throne-room, Thorin set Bilbo down, hushing him when he whimpered, and instructed Bofur to look after the hobbit while Thorin and the others inspected the dragon. Finding it just as Bilbo had they were disgusted but puzzled. Those toothmarks didn’t belong to anything ratlike. They were large and jagged and there were dozens.

“We must explore further. I would not be unaware while danger lurks in my halls.” Thorin ordered. Taking a slightly calmer Bilbo by the hand, he tucked the hobbit behind him and the rest of his company followed after Bilbo. They would see to the other halls to make certain there would be no nasty surprises and then they would all grumble about how silly they’d been over a decent meal and their own shares of gold.

There wouldn’t be any meals, though, nor gold nor fires nor anything but running and panic and survival. What they found waiting for them in the mines of Erebor were beyond the imaginings of Dwarves or Hobbits. Not Elves or Men or even Orcs could conceive of something so nightmarish.

As Thorin led his people down into the pits of the mountain, the air became chiller, the flame of forges burnt out years ago. As the cold became apparent, so did a faint smell- very faint, almost unnoticeable. The closer they got to the mines however, despite the cold, the odor got stronger. It smelled like something putrefied, rancid, and Thorin wrinkled his nose in distaste.

The dwarves heard scuffling, scratching like that of animals, and began to get nervous. If there was nothing down here, what was making the noise? It got Bifur before anyone had a chance to figure it out.

A dark shape, Dwarvish in nature but with milk pale eyes and dragon’s teeth flung itself from where it had hidden in the shadows of the walls and latched onto Bifur. Bifur screamed as the teeth dug into his neck, but it turned into gurgling and then silence as the Dwarves shouted and panicked, throwing weapons at the creature and trying to get him off. The creature hissed and screeched but did not die, ripping out mouthfuls of Bifur’s flesh until Thorin charged up at full speed and whacked its head off with his battle axe, severing it completely.

“Bifur!” Shrieked Bofur, sprinting over to cradle his fallen brother, weeping into his fur collar now stained with blood.

“Bofur! There is no time, I’m sorry. We shall mourn properly later, but now we must get to safety!” Yelled Thorin, voice echoing even over the sobs of his company. Dwalin pried Bofur away from the body of his brother, promising to come back for him.

Thorin manhandled Bilbo, now catatonic with shock, into the nearest room with a lock, herding the rest of his company in after making damn sure none of those things were hiding inside.

“Uncle, what are those monstrous things?” Whimpered Kili, held tight in the embrace of his blond older brother.

“I don’t know, or if I did, I would have been prepared for them.” Snapped Thorin at his youngest heir.

“But they looked like Dwarves. Did you see it? It had a beard, even though it was matted with blood. It was about the right height, though far too thin. And the eyes…” Whispered Kili.

“Thorin, what if that’s what happened to the Dwarves who were trapped alive in the mines?” Murmured Balin. “When Erebor fell and the tunnels collapsed. There were Dwarves, our kin, still inside the mines. What if this is what they became? Thin and wretched, starved to the point of blood madness? Eyes pale like the eyes of fish so they could see in the dark? Strong, still, but fast and beyond injury or reason?”

“Dare you say this, Balin? Before me, in the halls of my father, dare you talk of such a wicked happening? One so loathsome as this is unthinkable and I won’t have talk of it. We must kill the things, to regain our home. Dragon or Goblin-thing, it’s all the same, we shall have to kill them to take back the Lonely Mountain. I want four groups of three, well-armed, as scouting parties. We shall except the hobbit. These scouts shall go further into the mines and bring back news of what lies within. If there be any of these strange beasts, kill them upon sight.”

And so the watch rotated for what seemed like days, but was probably weeks. Here Bilbo was now, trapped in this dark chamber, while Fili, Oin and Dori explored the darkness outside the chamber. Many groups had come and gone and had reported more of the beings, some alive (though not for long, now that the Dwarves were fore-warned and well-armed) but some seemed to be dead, and had been chewed upon by their fellows.

Bilbo knew now, what had killed Smaug. These rabid beings who could move like spiders and strike like snakes. Never did he think that he would make it to Erebor only to find the dragon gone and a new threat in its place. Food was gone, now, had been for what seemed like weeks but was probably months. They’d found real rats this time, and roasted them. Well, they’d roasted them at first. They found water dripping in from far uphill, but it wasn’t quite as tasty as they had hoped. They craved salt, for some reason.

Bilbo didn’t find it as cold anymore as he once did, they didn’t even need fire anymore, and he found he could see well enough to move without light. It’s a pity he couldn’t see well enough to notice eyes turning pale. It was getting harder to find rats, these days….