I'm Staying With You (A Hobbit Fanfiction)

Chapter 8

Many days of traveling pass.  Eventually, we find ourselves on a mountain cliff.  It's nighttime, and most of us are sleeping except for Fili, Kili, Gandalf, Thorin, Balin, and I.  

As we sit watch by a fire, Bilbo suddenly jerks awake.  He stands, stretches, and walks towards the ponies are.  I can see him whispering to his horse, Myrtle.  He's grown quite fond of her, and I mean, who wouldn't?  Ponies are awesome. 

All of a sudden a shriek rings out and everyone who's awake looks up from what they're doing. 

"What was that?" Bilbo asks, pointing into the distance. 

"Orcs," Kili mutters, concern on his face.

"Orcs?" Bilbo asks, scampering over to the fireside.  Thorin sits up, staring intently into the night sky. 

"Throat-cutters.  There'll be dozens of them out there," Fili explains.  "The lone-lands are crawling with them." 

"They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep.  Quick and quiet, no screams.  Just lots of blood," Kili says, trying to stay serious. 

"Come on, guys," I mutter, knowing they're trying to make Bilbo more scared than he already is.  Fili and Kili both start chuckling, and I sigh heavily. 

"You think that's funny?" Thorin demands.  "You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?" 

"They didn't mean anything by it," I explain. 

"No, they didn't.  They know nothing of the world," Thorin grumbles.  He walks off towards the edge of the cliff and stares off into the vast darkness.

"Don't mind him, laddies and lass," Balin says.  "Thorin has more cause than most to hate Orcs."

All of us remain silent, remembering the tale.  Bilbo cocks his head to the side, and Balin tells the whole tale, from the dragon claiming our homeland to the oaken branch that Thorin used as a shield, thus earning him his name.  The beheading of King Thror, and when Thorin cut the arm off of Azog the Defiler.  

I can picture the scene in my head, despite the fact that I wasn't there.  My father died in that battle, and that was when I was just a little dwarf girl.  I was born after we fled.  He died trying to save the kingdom I never saw.

"And I thought to myself then, 'There is one who I could follow.  There is one I could call king," Balin finishes. 

Thorin turns around to face us, his face filled with sadness.  By this point, all the other dwarves are standing up and facing Thorin, probably woken by the story.  Thorin walks among them, looking grateful to have them here. 

"And the pale orc?" Bilbo asks.  "What happened to him?"

"He slunk back into the hole whence he came," Thorin growls.  "That filth died of his wounds long ago." 

Bilbo and Gandalf exchange a glance, and I have a feeling they know something that Thorin does not.  Gandalf sighs and takes a long drag from his pipe. 

"Alright everyone, get some rest.  We have a long day of traveling ahead," Thorin says.  "Dwalin and Bombur are on watch duty." 

Fili, Kili, and I walk to our sleeping area and lie down.  I cover myself in my blanket and try to sleep, but memories keep flooding back to me.  My father telling me that he was going to fight and my mother begging him not to go.  Me holding onto his pant leg and crying "Daddy, don't go."  But he followed Thror and went with many other dwarf men.  Many of them didn't return, including my father. 

"Nossa, are you okay?" Fili asks.  I didn't even realize I was crying until he pointed it out by wiping the tears off my cheeks.  I shake my head and he wraps his arms around me, holding me close to him.  I feel safe when I'm around him.  Fili and Kili were the only two people that could comfort me after my father didn't return home.