A quick update, but there might not be another update for a week or so as I am very busy next week. This chapter is a bit of a filler really and has small jumps in time.

We had been walking East for a number of days, stopping only when legs were unable to move any more. When I say legs, I mean myself, Gandalf and Bilbo. Gandalf kept walking on at a speed that seemed far too fast for a man of his age to be walking at, many of the Dwarves were striding behind him, keeping a good, steady pace and Bilbo and I were at the back barely keeping up and wincing at the pain in our legs. It seemed the rest of the company could walk for days on end without stopping. I knew dwarves were hardy, living and working in the conditions they did but I did not know of their stamina until now.

I tripped again, the tip of my boot catching on a rock I hadn't seen and I was barely able to catch myself before falling face first. It was way past dark but Thorin had said that we needed to find a more sheltered area so we could rest. It turned out we were a good while from any sort of covering and after I had fallen again, this time into the back of Nori who shoved me upright and kept a good grip on my arm, Thorin thankfully decided it was a good idea to stop and rest.

I heard a few barely contained groans of relief as packs slapped hard into the ground and bed rolls were laid out against the rock face, out only source of safety in the dark night. I rolled my own bed roll out, provided by the Elves, and slipped my boots off. They were comfy enough but after walking for nearly two days in them non -stop it was relieving to take them off. Gandalf took the first watch, which he only seemed to do when Thorin or Dwalin were too tired to do it.

I slid my aching body into the cool bed roll and before falling into a deep slumber I over caught a brief glimpse of Thorin and Gandalf with their heads together. Thorin was frowning and Gandalf seemed to be explaining something.

When I awoke the next morning, Gandalf would be gone.

What seemed like only minutes later, I was aroused by a heavy hand shaking my shoulder. I grunted and squinted against the light to see Ori's face hanging over my bedroll. He looked as exhausted as I felt as he hauled me gently from by comfortable bed roll and into a standing position. A water skin was shoved into my face and a small slab of Elven bread. Dwalin was giving out orders as I shoved my aching feet into my boots and tightened them. I was barely awake as I shoved the dry bread into my mouth.

Ori packed my bed roll away into my pack as I shoved my knotted hair away from my face and without much sound at all the company fell into a wordless formation and we began to walk in much the same fashion as we had the previous days.

The next few days continued on in very much the same manner.

The Misty Mountains were in fact, mountains. When Thorin and Gandalf first talked about the Misty Mountains I had envisioned large grassy mounds that would take a few days at most to reach the precipice. No. These were massive, rocky and perilous mountains.

I kicked at a rock in frustration before looking at the overbearing summit. Bilbo was in much the same fettle as I was. He was sitting on a fallen log with his head resting on his hands all but glaring at the scene in front of us. "Hobbits were not meant for mountains,!" he exclaimed when we first saw it. "Forests, maybe! Mountains? Absolutely not!"

This was the first time I had seen Bilbo less than happy and I sat heavily down on the log beside him. This would be the last night on solid, flat ground.

The weather was getting worse. I was never more thankful to Kilieth that I was when I found the heavy woollen cloak underneath all the warm tunics in my pack. It was thick and warm and had a hood which sheltered my face from the freezing winds and rain. It has started off as darkening nights but quickly turned into rain storms and heavy winds forcing us to stop more frequently. I could tell Thorin and Dwalin were getting frustrated but I was silently very happy that I was sleeping more often.

We had been stopping on the cliff edges which provided very little shelter but we had been lucky and found a small crack in the cliff face, not even really a cave but large enough to fit us all inside. Thorin has allowed us the luxury of a small fire, using the small amount of wood we collected before reaching the mountains. The fire would burn out before very long but it allowed us to be warm for a short amount of time.

Despite the howling winds and the cold air I had decided to place my bed roll near the mouth of the shelter because it was a small cavern and I felt…. Squashed- Thorin of course wanted to place me at the back of the cave out of the way but I refused and lay my head down to sleep. The food rations had been handed out already and I was feeling warm and comfortable which was better than I felt since leaving Rivendell. There were a few quiet conversations going on and the sound of the crackle of the low light fire but I fell asleep quickly despite the noise.

The thumping noise was well known and expected. I'd heard it before and often. It was the loud screaming winds that made this even worse. I can almost hear my brother's screams, the wind is surely imitating his voice and it keeps screaming louder and louder, the thumping gets faster, closer. I can hear the crack of bones and the tearing of flesh and more screaming. Sometimes there is grunting; noises of pleasure as the flesh is torn from bone and gorged on, sometimes they use bones to pick their teeth when their meal of my family is done. I daren't move. I never move from where I am; I am a coward and sit there shaking as a leaf as my family is devoured and my home destroyed and I hope and pray that I am not discovered. I never am, they always eventually leave, a dark bleak silence in their wake.

I don't know why tonight is different.

It looks at me. It looks at me and I swear I'll never be able to get that image from my mind- the dark, black soulless eyes almost gleaming with pleasure and the mouth covered in thick red blood and I can't keep my mouth closed. Usually I'm silent but the scream works its way up my throat before I can tame it and-

A hand clamps over my mouth and I grasp at it frantically and open my eyes desperately hoping it won't be those same eyes but the ones staring into me are a sharp ice blue colour and I slump against the hard ground, my bed roll tangled around my legs and my breathing harsh.

The dirty but warm hand stays clamped over my mouth until my heart slows and his piercing eyes stay on mine. What is probably only a few moments feels like an age but eventually he removes his hand before wiping the wetness from my cheeks I hadn't even noticed was there.

When he finally speaks his voice is quiet, a whisper I am almost unable to hear over the roaring winds.

"Your past torments you." It isn't a question but a statement, and I don't reply because I have nothing to say against it. It is true.

"How do you know?" I feel uneasy that someone such as Thorin has seen me in such a state. I have never slept in company before, so the terrors that haunt me in the night seemed of no consequence before. I have never needed to be woken from them before, either. They are usually repeated and I can expect what is to come. I have never been fearful of my own mind before tonight.

He turns to look at me, he braid swinging slightly and he seems to be searching for something in my face but I can't figure out what.

"My past torments me also."