Chapter 5: Still not at Home

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Thorin wandered off into the forests and fields more often. The beautiful land seemed dull because of the many losses at the Battle of Azanulbizar. One day, I went looking for Thorin to ask him something. I found him sitting on a rock under a willow tree. A waterfall was roaring behind him.

Thorin himself sat poring over maps of Erebor. I realized he was muttering, "There has to be another way in..."

"Thorin," I said over the roaring of the waterfall.

He looked up like he had just come out of a daze. Then he said, slightly annoyed, "Balin, you were supposed to be watching Fili and Kili practice with their battle-axes. You know what happened last time they were left unwatched."

"Gloin is watching them," I replied, trying to bury that memory that had resurfaced. "What are you doing?"

Thorin looked up at me. "I think I might have a plan. I've been looking for another way into the Mountain. When we take back the Mountain, we can't exactly march an army through Smaug's front door. I know there used to be little passages branching off of the main entryway, but Smaug has filled most of them over time with all the treasure. I was hoping that there might be at least one that we could use when we reclaim the Mountain, but I haven't found any evidence leading to another door. Except..." His voice faltered.

"What?" I asked.

Thorin hesitated like he was debating on where to start. "This is the map that my grandfather gave to my father before he went to Moria. They both drew it. They never told me what these runes mean." Thorin showed me the map. On the left edge, there was a hand pointing to the Lonely Mountain, and under it, a paragraph of runes. "Every time I ask my father," Thorin continued, "he seems distracted with the death of my grandfather." I saw that Thorin was still very bitter towards the Orcs for Thror's death. "If you don't understand their meaning, I don't know who would."

The runes were written in Ancient Dwarven, and I could read them. I just didn't know why they were important. They said, "Five feet high the door and three may walk abreast."

"I don't know why that would be important, or how that can tell us the location of a door," I said dismally.

Thorin slowly turned the map towards himself and studied the runes some more. "They have to have something to do with a hidden entrance..."

We were interrupted by my brother, Dwalin, racing into the clearing. He had been on guard duty when I'd left. "Thorin, sir!" he yelled, trying to catch his breath. "Back at the camp – they came so fast – we couldn't – "

"Slow down, Dwalin!" Thorin demanded, jumping up from the rock. "What is it? Speak clearly!"

Dwalin gasped for breath. It looked like he'd been running from something. His dark blue eyes were wide, his brown hair askew. "Goblins, your Majesty! Survivors from the battle!"

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Thorin, Dwalin, and I stumbled into the camp. I saw about six Goblins, at the most, who were already being overcome by Dwarves. I turned to Dwalin and raised my eyebrows. "Six Goblins, Dwalin? Really?"

Dwalin seemed to notice that this wasn't really a big problem. He flushed. "Oh... sorry. All I saw were a few... I thought there were more..."

"It is fine," Thorin interrupted. "Six Goblins could have been a real problem." But it looked like Thorin was trying not to smile. He walked over to the Goblins, who had been subdued. "What is your name?" Thorin asked the Goblin chief.

The Goblins wouldn't talk. They just sat there with horrible grins on their faces. "Well, if you won't talk on your own," Thorin said, as he started to pace, "then we will make you talk." Thorin nodded to the Dwarves holding the Goblins, and they took out their swords.

Before the Dwarves did anything, the Goblins chief shouted at them to stop. "Call off your Dwarves! We will talk."

"What is your name?" Thorin asked again.

"Snagrith," the Goblin chief growled.

"Where did you come from?" Thorin inquired.

"We are survivors from the Battle of Azanulbizar. We heard your little group all the way from our dwelling place – "

"Which is where?" Thorin interrupted.

"That is none of your business," Snagrith spat.

Thorin scowled, but said, "Fine. Continue."

"And we decided to come and kill the ones who assassinated our king, Azog!" At that, confusion broke loose as the Goblins on one accord started trying to get to their weapons which had been thrown on the ground. One managed to break free, but then I heard the sound of a bow being notched and drawn back. The next thing I knew, the escaped Goblin had an arrow protruding from his chest. He fell to the ground. All fighting stopped. Thorin lowered his bow.

"Now," Thorin said. "There will be no more of that." He eyed all of them before asking his next question. "If you had wanted to kill us, why aren't there more of you? "

The Goblins shifted their feet, and Snagrith snarled but stayed silent. They never answered that question, so I think that their group was just scouting around and they stumbled across us.

After Thorin was finished interrogating them, he ordered the Dwarves holding them down to keep them as prisoners until he thought of what to do. As they were taking them away, the Goblins suddenly broke their bonds and started to run away. I knew that if they were allowed to escape, they would tell the other Goblins where we were. Thorin yelled to the other archers and they began firing at the runaway Goblins. The archers shot down all the Goblins except for the leader, Snagrith, who skillfully got away. Thorin ordered some Dwarves to hunt down the last Goblin. If Snagrith made it back to his home, he would alert the others of our location and come back with reinforcements. The hunters ran off into the woods, following Snagrith.

The next day, the hunters returned and reported the outcome of the search to Thorin and Thrain.

"We tracked him all the way to the river, but he could have gone anywhere from there. We searched all around the river with no luck."

Thrain considered the news. He looked up with a grim expression and said, "Well, then we must move." I know that was hard to say because we had built a new life here in Dunland. But staying here any longer would mean danger.

"So," I thought to myself, "we aren't home yet after all." 


A/N: If you have read this far, please comment something! I want to know what you think!

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