Angels on the Moon (A Hobbit Fanfiction)

Chapter 8

A few days had passed. Each night I snuck away, I never slept; I would close my eyes, wait for a bit, then open them again. I’d gone a few weeks with little to no sleep. Dark circles formed under my eyes, the scratches were deep, and every part of me hurt, from my dry, cracked skin, to the marrow in my bones. It was worse than last time, It sensed something, but I hadn’t any idea what. I was at the back of the company, soaking up the silence like a sponge to water. I had my cloak pulled tight around my shoulders; the wind was blowing, stinging the cuts on my arms right through my shirt. Before long the wind stopped, it was still for several minutes, then the sky went grey and the rain started falling. Holding my hand out I caught a drop, it was cold as ice. Without thinking I took off my cloak and rolled up my sleeves. Slowly my pain was washed away by a wave of numbness brought on by the icy rain. Drawing in a deep breath of cool air, a thought arose in my mind. Tonight, it was the last night.

“Aren’t you cold?!” I heard someone call. I looked at Bofur. He was relighting his pipe after the rain put it out.

“Yes, very, it feels good though.” He looked curiously at me.

“How so?”

“Ah, the other night when I fell out of the tree, I wrenched my shoulder; the cold feels good on it.” I lied, rolling my shoulder a little.

“I see, well; if you get cold, let me know, I think I have an extra blanket or something for you to cover up with.” I nodded my thanks and rode up towards Gandalf, who was talking about the other wizards in Middle Earth. I was listening to what they, Gandalf and Bilbo, were saying, riding alongside Gandalf. He looked over at me.

“How do you feel?”

“Last night is always the worst, it’ll get better, then I will go another month, and it will happen again.” He nodded.

“And have you a cloak?” I looked at my arm, soaked to the bone.

“No, it feels good. I’d rather be numb than sore.” Some of my hair was sticking to my face, I moved it and tied my hair up, and it was dripping wet. Braig shook a little underneath me. The rain finally stopped, and we set up camp. I noticed as we rode in that there were the remains of a house, it looked as if it had been burned. Gandalf got off his horse and went to look, I followed.

“A farmer and his family lived here.” He mumbled. Thorin was by our side, looking around. I saw something in the corner, a small doll. I crouched down and picked it up, it was dirty and had holes in it with stuffing falling out. I heard Gandalf yelling then turned around. He mounted his horse and rode off. I stood and watched him. When I looked back Thorin was standing there.

“What was that?” He turned, ignoring me. Rolling my eyes I went to check up on Braig. He was nowhere to be found. I went to see if he was with the rest of the ponies. Fili and Kili were there, he had them pinned between a tree and him, and he was sniffing their pockets. I knew instantly what he was doing.

“No!” I snapped. They all turned to look at me. “Braig!” I stepped towards him. He stamped one foot and raised his head, nodding towards my saddle bag that was hanging on a low branch.