The Mage of Middle-Earth - CH - 30 (Patreon)

Sirius Black crouched low, his eyes narrowing as he watched the strange creature skulk through the cave, dragging a lifeless orc behind it. The faint light of his wand illuminated the figure’s ragged appearance: pale skin stretched thin over sharp bones, and a few strands of greasy hair clinging to its skull. The creature wore nothing but a small, tattered loincloth, though it moved with an eerie, unnatural silence.

As Sirius observed, something small and shiny slipped from a pouch tied to the creature’s undergarment, clinking softly against the stone floor. His breath caught as he saw it fall—a ring, glinting faintly in the dark. But it wasn’t the shimmer that caught his attention; it was the oppressive weight that seemed to settle over him the moment the ring touched the ground.

Sirius shuddered involuntarily. The air felt heavier, colder, as if something unseen had stirred, reaching out to him. His mind, well-trained in dark magic and its many twisted forms, instantly recognized the dark presence that now lingered in the cave. His time with the Black family, surrounded by ancient artifacts and cursed objects, had taught him much. This was no ordinary trinket.

The ring was something far more dangerous.

It wasn’t just dark—it was ancient, old in a way that made his skin crawl. Sirius could feel it trying to worm its way into his thoughts, probing, searching. The edges of his mind felt clouded, but his Occlumency training kicked in. His shields strengthened, blocking the insidious influence. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. Whatever this thing was, it had power. And it was trying to use that power on him.

Sirius glanced at the creature, still dragging the orc deeper into the cave, unaware of its loss. For a brief moment, he debated what to do. He wasn’t sure exactly what the ring was, but he knew that leaving it out in the open would be disastrous. Such dark objects had a way of corrupting those around them—twisting minds, destroying lives. He couldn’t leave it here.

But he wasn’t foolish enough to touch it either.

Carefully, Sirius looked around for something to help him. A loose branch, brittle and dry, lay a few feet away. He picked it up and, using the stick, he gingerly scooped up the ring. It looked unassuming—simple, really. A small, golden band, nothing more. But the aura it exuded told a different story. It thrummed with malevolent energy, its presence cloying at the edges of his consciousness.

Silver. Dark objects were often best stored in silver, a lesson drilled into him from his youth. Silver had a strange property that could contain curses, dark enchantments, and even the nastiest hexes. But Sirius had no silver box on hand. What he did have, however, were a few silver coins tucked away in his trunk. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do.

Sirius carefully slid the ring into a small pouch he had strapped to his waist, emptying its contents before adding a handful of silver coins. He tied the pouch tightly, muttering a few protective charms under his breath for good measure.

"Best not take any chances," he murmured to himself.

He hurried back to where he’d stashed his trunk and secured the pouch deep inside, burying it beneath his belongings. He glanced around the cave once more, then shut the trunk with a heavy sigh. Whatever the ring was, it was no longer his concern—for now.

Sirius leaned back against the cold stone wall, rubbing his temples. The weight of the ring’s influence still lingered faintly in his mind, like the distant echo of a scream. He had to keep his wits about him.

And yet, as the moments passed and he busied himself with other things, the ring—and its dangerous allure—slipped from his immediate thoughts. By the time he was ready to move on, Sirius had all but forgotten about the cursed object he’d locked away in his trunk.

And deep within the cave, the creature—Gollum—muttered and cursed to himself, realizing too late that his "precious" was gone.

Sirius didn't spare another glance toward the strange creature as it cursed and muttered in the shadows. He had no time to worry about its missing ring or any other dark objects. His focus was solely on the dwarves—his companions, his friends—who had been captured by the goblins and dragged into the depths of the Misty Mountains. Every second mattered.

With a swift motion, Sirius slung his enchanted trunk over his shoulder and bolted through the cave, his wand drawn and ready. The faint echoes of goblin voices and clanging metal reverberated through the stone corridors, guiding him. He moved swiftly, his years as an Animagus and an Auror giving him an edge in stealth and speed.

"Come on, Sirius," he muttered to himself. "Focus. You’ve gotten out of worse situations."

The passageways twisted and turned, but Sirius kept his wits about him, following the subtle trail left behind by the goblins. Scratches on the walls, the occasional footprint, and the faint scent of dampness that always accompanied goblin caves. It wasn’t long before he found himself nearing the larger cave system where the goblins made their lair.

He could hear their grating laughter and the unmistakable sound of chains rattling—no doubt the dwarves. The goblins were preparing to bring their prisoners deeper into the mountain, where escape would be near impossible.

Sirius crouched low behind a rocky outcrop, his eyes scanning the scene. The goblins were clustered around the dwarves, jeering and poking them with spears as they forced them into a holding area. Thorin and the others, though bound and bruised, remained defiant. Their eyes burned with anger, but even Sirius could see that they were outmatched for now.

A blinding white light filled the cavern, and a powerful shockwave surged through the tunnels, sending both goblins and dwarves flying. Sirius barely had time to shield his eyes from the sudden flash before he was thrown back against the stone wall. His vision swam, but through the haze, he could make out a tall figure stepping into the chaos, a sword in one hand and a staff in the other.

It was Gandalf.

The wizard’s presence was unmistakable, radiating with power as he strode through the midst of the goblins, his sword, Glamdring, gleaming in the eerie cave light. The goblins shrieked in terror, retreating from the force of his magic and the deadly arc of his blade. Dwarves, momentarily stunned by the explosion of light, quickly regained their footing. One by one, they picked up their weapons and joined the fray, cutting down goblins that dared approach.

Sirius, still recovering from the shockwave, watched in awe from his vantage point. Gandalf’s power was beyond anything he had seen in Middle-Earth so far. The way he commanded both magic and steel was terrifying and magnificent. The air around him crackled with energy, and with every swing of his sword or sweep of his staff, goblins fell like leaves in a storm.

"To me!" Gandalf shouted over the din, his voice booming with authority.

The dwarves, led by Thorin, rallied to Gandalf’s call, their axes and swords cutting a bloody path through the goblins. Sirius, knowing he couldn't stay hidden for long, leapt into action. He took out his bow, sending arrows at the goblins that threatened to overwhelm the company. The goblins, already reeling from Gandalf's assault, fell easily under the combined attack of Sirius and dwarves.

“We need to move!” Thorin bellowed, his voice carrying over the chaos. “Get to the exit!”

Sirius nodded, even as he dodged a goblin spear aimed at his chest. He retaliated with an arrow, sending the goblin crashing into the cave wall. The battle was fierce, but with Gandalf at their side, the company had the upper hand.

The dwarves fought with renewed vigor, slashing and hacking their way through the goblin ranks. Kili and Fili covered the rear, their arrows flying with deadly precision, while Dwalin and Thorin cut down anything that stood in their path. Bombur, still sore from his earlier fall into the pit, wielded his mace with surprising speed, while Bofur and Balin flanked him, keeping the goblins at bay.

The battle pressed on, but the tide had turned in their favor. Sirius caught glimpses of the remaining goblins retreating into the deeper tunnels, their screeches growing faint as they fled in terror.

“Go! Now!” Gandalf shouted, pointing toward an opening at the far end of the cave.

Sirius and the dwarves didn’t need to be told twice. They surged forward, their path finally clear. The goblins had been defeated, but Sirius knew they couldn’t linger. More could arrive at any moment, and the Misty Mountains held dangers beyond just the goblins.

As they neared the exit, Sirius cast a final glance behind them. The eerie, shadowy cave seemed to close in around them, but the sound of goblins had faded. They were safe, for now.

Outside the cave, the cool mountain air hit them like a welcome blessing. The dwarves, panting and bloodied but alive, collapsed in relief against the rocks. Sirius, his adrenaline still pumping, wiped the sweat from his brow and gave Gandalf a grateful look.

“Nicely timed,” Sirius said with a half-smile, catching his breath.

Gandalf, though clearly exhausted from the battle, returned the smile with a knowing gleam in his eyes. “There’s more to come, my friend. We must keep moving.”

The dwarves groaned in unison, but they all knew Gandalf was right. The Misty Mountains still held many dangers, and their journey was far from over.

As the dwarves scrambled toward the mountains, eager to escape before more goblins could pursue, they suddenly noticed their burglar, Jimmy Potter—Sirius—lagging behind. Thorin called out to him, but Sirius was preoccupied, rummaging through his backpack.

“What in Durin’s name is he doing?” Thorin muttered, exasperated, as the rest of the dwarves halted in confusion.

Sirius finally stood up, pulling out four square stones, each engraved with runes that glowed faintly in the dim light of the cave. He set them down carefully in front of him. The dwarves, intrigued by these strange stones, gathered around. Even Gandalf, who had seen many forms of magic in his long life, seemed puzzled.

Sirius took out his sword, the blade gleaming under the flickering torchlight. Without hesitation, he drew the sharp edge across his palm, letting his blood drip onto the stones. As the first drop touched the runes, they flared to life, emitting an eerie white glow that filled the cavern. The runes pulsed, and the stones seemed to hum with energy.

“What are those?” Balin asked, his curiosity piqued.

Gandalf, who had been watching Sirius closely, furrowed his brow. “I’ve never seen magic like this. What are you doing, Sirius?”

Sirius glanced up, a mischievous glint in his eye. “It’s a ward bomb.”

Gandalf raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. “A ward bomb? I’ve never heard of wards nor I’ve heard of bombs.”

Instead of explaining further, Sirius picked up the four glowing stones and, with a swift motion, threw them deep into the goblin tunnels behind them. The stones arced through the air and disappeared into the darkness. For a moment, nothing happened.

“Cover your ears!” Sirius shouted, dropping to the ground and pressing his hands over his head. The dwarves hesitated for only a split second before following suit. Gandalf, realizing the danger, quickly shielded his ears as well.

An instant later, a deafening blast erupted from the tunnels. The sound was so immense it shook the very foundations of the mountain. Four massive explosions echoed through the caverns, followed by a series of violent tremors. Dust and debris rained down from the ceiling as the ground beneath them shook. The tunnels that had stretched deep into the goblin lair were collapsing, sealing off the path behind them.

When the shockwave subsided, the dwarves slowly uncovered their ears, still rattled by the intensity of the blast. They looked at Sirius, their faces a mix of awe and disbelief.

“What—what was that?” Fili asked, his voice a little shaky from the noise.

Sirius stood up, brushing the dirt off his robes. “That,” he said, sheathing his sword, “was a ward bomb. A magical explosive that targets the structural integrity of whatever it's placed near. Perfect for collapsing tunnels.”

“You could have warned us,” Dwalin grumbled, rubbing his ears.

“I did!” Sirius grinned, clearly pleased with himself.

Gandalf, though impressed, still appeared confused. “I’ve never seen such magic,” he said. “Combining wards with explosive force is... uncommon. Where did you get such a thing?"

Sirius shrugged. “A little gift I got from my previous travels". Sirius didn't explained further.

The dwarves exchanged glances, still trying to comprehend what had just happened. But they didn’t have much time to ponder it.

“Let’s go,” Thorin said, urging the company forward. “We’ve sealed the goblins off, but we need to get out of these mountains. Quickly.”

The dwarves hurried on, grateful for Sirius’ quick thinking but wary of the power he wielded. As they moved deeper into the mountain pass, Gandalf fell into step beside Sirius.

“You’ve hidden many talents, my friend,” Gandalf said quietly.

Sirius chuckled. “I’ve learned to keep a few tricks up my sleeve. Never know when you might need them.”

Gandalf nodded, but his gaze lingered on Sirius for a moment longer, thoughtful. The wizard had seen much in his long life, but the hobbit continued to surprise him.