Under the Moonlight (The Hobbit Fanfiction)

Chapter Two - Old Friends

Belle woke up to the sound of thunder clapping. She gasped, waking up from her nightmare as she took a moment to collect her breath. The streams of dim light flowed through her curtains and lit up the room faintly as her senses came to her. The woman looked up at the clock on the wall across the room as the hands showed that it was past noon. Her eyes widened as she threw the thick blankets off of her and immediately got up. An ache wracked her whole body, and a pain like an arrow shot in her ribs, neck, and shoulders, stopping her as she sat back down on her bed.

She looked down at her bruises, cuts, and gashes. The lady groaned, "I hope Gandalf left enough money for me to see a doctor..." she said to herself as she held onto a large, wrapped wound on her side.

This time, she slowly got up to avoid hurting herself anymore. Belle tidied up her hair, redid her makeup and dressed herself. She disassembled her plated armor and put it in her bag. There would be no need to wear it because it would only weigh her down. Not to mention that the people there in Bree don't like to look for fights.

Belle went downstairs and to the inn keeper's counter, "Good morn- um- afternoon. I was wondering where I could find a doctor or medic."

The kind gentleman directed her five blocks down from where she was, The Prancing Pony, to some infirmary. She thanked him, signing out of the inn, and headed out the door, making her way into the pouring rain.

She always enjoyed the rain, but it chilled her bones and only made her pain worse. Not to mention her legs, being sore, had to push through the heavy mud.

After what seemed like forever, Belle finally reached the infirmary. Soaked, she wiped off her boots and trudged inside. The bell above the door rang and the doctor looked up over his book. "What can I do for you, ma'am? Do you have a cold? Influenza?"

She took off her cape and hung it up as she asked the elderly man, "Stitches, maybe?"

The kindly old man stood up and fixed his large round glasses to look at her wounds. "Those are quite some horrible lacerations, my dear. Here, come in and dry yourself off by the fire, I'll see what I can do."

Belle thanked him and made her way over to the large fireplace by the infirmary beds. There was hardly anyone there, except for maybe one or two people who had a small cough, all ghastly pale. They gave her looks as she walked down the aisle, a mother pulling her sick child in close. Another familiar looking man with brown hair who had a bandage around his head and his leg propped up in a cast lay asleep in his bed. She forgot that these people were the peaceful lot. She bowed her head low as in to show her respect to the others.

It didn't take long before the doctor came back with a few sheets of paperwork. "Before we get started, lady warrior, I will need you read over these and sign them," she took the papers, ink well, and quill. As Belle started to shuffle through the parchment, signing whatever needed to be signed, the man stroked his white beard, "What brings a warrior to Bree, if you don't mind me asking?"

She looked down, a shy smile rising to her crimson lips, "Oh, I was in a five day long tournament over here. We were competing for the unbreakable silver sword forged by Mahal— Aulë. First Age material!" she laughed as she patted the hilt of her sword that hung at her hip.

"Oh yes, Belle Dheai! Congratulations on your victory. Vlad was a tough opponent, but you managed to fracture his skull pretty badly. He had to come to me as you may have seen," her eyes wandered over to the man with the bandage around his head. "He's still in pretty bad shape. That competition was the last of his purse, and I may have to cut him off from my aid if he can't pay any longer."