Red (The Hobbit Fan Fiction)

7. Not Your Average Bedtime Story

7. Not Your Average Bedtime Story

            For a while, our troop of sixteen was confined to level plains to travel across. We rested, ate, drank, and relieved ourselves when we saw fit. Mainly Thorin called the shots as to what we did and when we did it. Honestly, I knew Thorin saw me as a burden; he’d said so since I brought Bilbo to the company to join them. I felt like I had something to prove now.

            So much for being able to enjoy this opportunity with my best friend. I now felt obligated to prove to Thorin Oakenshield that I had every right to be in the company like the rest did.

            Our scenery eventually changed from grasslands to pathways on mountains. Today was the day we changed scenery. Since the path was narrow, we had to ride single file. I had to admit, this was something I never expected to happen in my life.

            I wondered how Jack was managing without me back home in Hobbiton. I knew he would remain faithful to me, yet there was a shred of doubt that told me that maybe he’d get fed up with being lonely and have an affair. I mean, it would be the perfect time to, right, while I was away embarking on a voyage to help Dwarves—strangers—take back their kingdom from a dragon?

            Stop worrying. Jack said so himself, he’ll be fine. He’ll be waiting for you when you make the journey home. Then you’ll be able to tell him everything that’s happened! That was definitely something to look forward to, at least.

            When sunset was upon us, Thorin declared that a little spot on the mountain was where we’d make camp for the night. The space was vast enough to give us and the ponies some room. A fire was soon made, as was supper. I’d never had stew in my lifetime until I joined the Dwarves. I had to admit, the cook, Bombur, wasn’t really that bad of one. Though, I did wish he had put some things in the stew so it would be a little more tolerable for me. Get used to it, this will probably be all you’ll be able to eat for a long time, my conscience reminded me.

            Night fell upon our group of sixteen. About half of us decided to turn in for the night, Thorin was amongst that number. Gandalf sat near the unsaddled ponies, smoking a pipe. Kili and Fili were still up, huddled near the fire. Bilbo was trying to sleep, like I was.

            However, we should have expected to not fall asleep so easily, not with Bombur’s obnoxious snoring that sounded amplified in the dead of night.

            I sat up with my back supported against a rock. I watched the Dwarf as he snored, seeing little things disappear into his mouth, then pop back out when he breathed. I grimaced, realizing that as Bombur snored he took in flies and then released them when he exhaled.

            Bilbo popped up, shooting an annoyed glance at Bombur.

            “We’ll get used to it,” I whispered to him. He jumped; I bit my lip so I didn’t laugh. “Flighty, are we?”

            “You can’t sleep either?”

            “I’ve been trying. Trying but failing.” I sighed. With every part of me still awake, I rose to my feet, ambling over to the ponies. I sought out my boy, who greeted me with a soft snort. I beamed as I pressed my forehead against his, scratching his cheeks lightly with my nails.

            “You can’t sleep either, can you, boy?” I crooned. “That makes two of us.” Nearby, I heard Bilbo sneaking his pony, Myrtle, an apple. “Well, more than just us two.”