Here's the next chapter and I hope you enjoy it. Big thanks to Wrmauney for reviewing and letting me know how I'm doing. I know that you guys are out there, so tell me what you think is going on. Wrmauney nailed the fact that Moira is a hobbit, so what else is going on? Most of this narrative is coming from Moira, so what is she leaving out and why? Tell me what you're thinking. Theories help me know what I'll do in future chapters to make it interesting, so send me a note.
"And you're sure about this, my dear? You won't wait until next spring."
Moira smiled gently, taking the old Hobbit's hands in hers. "It cannot wait," she said gently. "It's time for us to move on. We've been too much of a burden for far too long and I cannot continue to take without giving in my own turn." Her throat tightened, but she pushed past it. "You have been so kind to us, Master Noakes, and I do not know how to repay you. You took us in when Andwise, when he…" she took a breath to steady herself. She didn't want to talk about Andy. "You have been more of a…" Tears were welling in her eyes, she just knew it, but she had to thank him somehow, to let him know how much he meant to her.
"A safe journey, then," he said gently, squeezing her hand. She nodded, smiling despite herself. "Something to remember me by," he said, pressing a rough wooden box into her hands. "No, don't you deny me this," he said, pressing it more firmly into her hands as she hesitated. "I reserve the right to spoil you and I want to know that you and your boy eat well as you pass through such uncivilized lands. Please. Let me give this last kindness."
Everard Noakes was not a hugger; it just didn't seem to be in him. He had rather show his love through small acts of kindness, little gifts, a comforting word. Not hugs, but he did not pull away when Moira buried her face in his shoulder and hugged him, just needing to thank him in all the ways words could never fully capture. He hesitated, but his hand came to pat her on the back, although somewhat awkwardly. "Thank you," she breathed into his coat collar, "for everything."
He cleared his throat gruffly. "Best be on your way if you hope to reach Midgewater by dusk."
Moira pulled away, wiping under her eyes to check for any stray tears. Now was not the time. Luca was watching. She slung her heavy pack onto her shoulders, tightening a strap here, securing a tool there. She cleared her throat. "Ready for an adventure, Luca?" Luca nodded enthusiastically, reaching up to take her hand.
"A bid adventour!" he said, practically jumping out of his boots with excitement. Moira smiled down at him, tightening her grip on his hand and began walking out of the gates of Bree, laughing as Luca turned around every few feet to wave at Master Noakes who stood as a sentinel before the gates. "Adventour, adventour!"
"An awfully big adventure."
And that was it. The only home she had in this world, the only home Luca would remember, was gone. But—she smiled to herself, sweeping a hand through Luca's curls in the soft morning light—so long as they were together, nothing bad could happen. And nothing would ever change that.
"Wherw we doeing, Ma?" Luca asked, looking up at her. God, he was the most beautiful thing imaginable.
"First we go along the road and then over the mountains," she said, swinging Luca onto her shoulders at the mention of the mountains, "and then through the forest, across the lake, and then—"
"Da, da, da town!" he shouted, thumping the top of her head with soft fists.
"Yes," she smiled, catching his hands. "And then the town." Home, or at least it would be. She hoped it would be. John had said that this was the best way to go, but now she wasn't quite sure. With the full weight of her decision and Luca resting on her shoulders, literally, she felt, well, not unsure, but not completely certain either. It wasn't a feeling she was used to. For the past year, everything had been black and white and she had done everything she could in order to protect Luca, but now… Was she really making the right choice? Was this a risk she could afford to take, especially with Luca? Risking his life in order to be closer with others like them.
"Do you dink the'w be piwates dare?" Luca asked suddenly, leaning over Moira's head to look her in the eyes.
"Pirates, hmm," Moira said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "You know, I think there could be!"
"Yeah! The'w be, the'w be, tons of piwates! But dey can't, dey can't get us betuz I'w fight dem!" Luca said excitedly. "I'w fwy around da ships and, BWOOM!" He spread his arms out, making play at flying.
"Yeah, Luca. You'd get them."
"Betuz I tan fwy!"
Her gut clenched painfully, but she kept her smile in place. "Oh, you can fly, can you?" Moira asked, reaching up to grip Luca under his arms. "Lets see how fast you can fly!"
She lifted him free of her shoulders and swung him in arc above her head, Luca whooping and cheering "fastew, fastew, fastew!" dissolving into giggles.
"You're getting so big. Soon I won't be able to pick you up. You'll be even bigger than me!"
"Oh no! Piwate ship!" Luca cried.
"Oh no!" Moria exclaimed. "They're shooting at you! Time to come in for a landing." Moira panted, swinging him one more time before lowering Luca gently to the ground, trying to catch her breath.
"Don't wowy, I'w get dem!" Luca shouted, taking off down the road as fast as his little legs could carry him.
"Luca," Moira laughed, bracing her hands on her hips, "Luca, slow down."
But he wasn't listening. He got to the top of the hill and looked down at her, calling back "Tum on! We got to tach dem!"
Moira sped up just a bit, just to make sure that he would stay in her sight. "Luca, now remember. No running off. You need to stay with me."
"Why?" Luca asked over his shoulder as he trotted a few feet ahead of her.
"Why?" Moira repeated, mulling her answer over in her head. "Well, if you're too far away, how will you save me if the pirates come back?"
"Oh," Luca said seriously, pausing just long enough for Moira to be a step behind him before he began walking, this time at a slower pace, pausing every now and again to look back and make sure that Moira was still there. "Dat would be bad," he said quietly after a few minutes.
"Yeah," she sighed, not quite paying attention. She hefted the heavy pack higher up her back. God, she was already feeling tired and they hadn't even gone very far. Luca was lagging a little now, the early morning wake-up catching up with him. What she didn't see was his smile drop completely to be replaced with a contemplative frown, his blue eyes missing their merry sparkle.
"Betuz, den I would be, I would be-"
"You would be?" Moira asked, coming back to her senses. Luca snuffled and Moira's stomach dropped. God, she had made him cry. Her beautiful, sweet little brother was crying because of her. Because she was too busy worrying about herself. "Hey, hey. It's okay, Luca," she cooed softly, kneeling down to his height and drawing him into her arms. "What's the matter?"
He wrapped his arms around her neck and buried himself in her coat collar. "Betuz den I would be awone," he sobbed, tightening his arms around her neck. Moira was shocked into silence as the words sunk in.
Because he would be alone.
She would leave him all alone.
She would abandon him.
Her arms tightened unconsciously around him at the thought. "Luca, I would never leave you," she whispered, resting her cheek on his head. "Never."
"Not even if dere wuwre piwates?" he asked, hiccupping.
"Not even if there were pirates," she murmured, squeezing him.
He seemed to think that over for a moment as he stood nestled into Moira's coat. "Pwomise?" he asked, holding out his pinky.
Moira smiled and caught his pinky with hers. "I promise." Luca nodded against her shoulder, content with her answer, but he wouldn't let her go. Moira didn't much feel like letting him go either.
She hefted him into her arms and began walking again, Luca resting his head against her collarbone, letting go of her with one arm to swipe at his eyes and—she grimaced—his nose before holding onto her again. She carried him until her arms were numb and kept carrying him, his words haunting her.
"Ma," Luca said, tugging at her hair when she didn't respond. "Ma?"
"Hm?" she asked, looking down at him.
"I tink someone's tumming," he said, pointing over her shoulder to the road behind them. Moira turned, readjusting her grip on Luca. Sure enough, there was a cart coming up behind them, bumping along the road.
Moira paused at the side of the road and put Luca down, but he kept a hold of her skirt. She rested and hand on the top of his head and gave him an encouraging smile. "We're in luck! Maybe they'll give us a ride."
"Weally?" he asked, looking up at her.
"Maybe, if we ask nicely," she said, watching as the cart drew up beside them.
"Going East?" the man called down from the cart.
"Yes," Moira answered, having to look up to see the man's face. "To Midgewater."
"Midgewater," he whistled. "Don't see many Hobbits going further than Bree," he said, looking them over. "Well, there's plenty of room in the cart if you an' your boy'd like a lift."
"We're in your debt, sir," Moira said, walking towards him, Luca trailing just behind her. Moira lifted Luca onto the cart and pulled herself after him, settling on the seat next to the man. Luca climbed up into her lap, a little shy, but the merry twinkle back in his eye.
The cart lurched forward and Luca giggle as they bounced across the road. This had to be his first time riding in a cart, Moira realized with a smile. They had never left Bree and had walked the entire way from Rushock Bog when—when Andy had found them.
"And what do they call you, Lady Hobbit?" the man asked conversationally, looking out over the road.
"I'm called Moira, and this is Luca," she said, bouncing Luca on her knee.
"Pleased to meet you," he said, looking over at them, smiling a toothy grin at Luca. "They call me Rube Tiller." The name fit him, but she wasn't sure why. He was broad shouldered and as tall as a mountain—more of a giant, really, than a Man—with a full, bristling brown beard with fine streaks of silver creeping in.
"So Midgewater. That's a fair distance to travel. What brings you up into these parts?"
"Um," Moira said, searching for a reason, a little panicked. "We're … we're visiting family."
"Family?" the man said, thoughtfully. "Didn't think there were no Hobbits in Midgewater, 'cept of course for Ol' Delbert. You related to him?" he asked, smiling at them.
"Oh, no," Moira said quickly. "They're a bit further East than Midgewater."
"Ah, tha's a shame," he said, shaking his head. "Would've been nice if you were family o' his. Ol' Del hasn't had company in a long while." Conversation lulled and Moira fidgeted uncomfortably, searching for a new topic of conversation.
"Tiller?" she asked, remembering his last name. "So, you're a farmer?"
"Uh hm. Been a farmer all my life. My wife an' I are set up pretty just a mile or two from Midgwater. Took us a good long while to build, our farm did. Now wi' spring on the way an' the barley sown, we'll be lookin' for hands to help us bring in the crop. That's why I'm out here, see. I just met with a ol' friend of mine up in Bree tha' has hands to spare."
Moira listened quietly, nodding her head when he looked at her. "The fields in Bree were planted early, I heard," she said conversationally, adding, in one sentence, her entire knowledge of agriculture.
"That they were. Almost unheard of in these parts, but they got a touch o' the warm weather 'fore the rest of us," he said, running his hand through his beard. "Seems like th' further East you go, th' worse th' weather. Haven't heard a peep from Tobias. He farms along th' woods by th' wilds, but then again, him and his weren't much of a trading kind of people. Only ever came into town a few times, mostly in th' spring to sell off what they weren't needin.'"
With the initial shock of his first wagon ride wearing off, Luca yawned and rubbed at his eyes blearily. Moira ran her fingers through his hair gently, watching as the swaying of the cart carried him off to sleep. Rube Tiller must've noticed as well because his voice got quieter, though never quite stopped, as they bumped further down the road.
They ate a midday meal on the cart, passing around dried apple slices and some of the traveling bread Moira had bought just before leaving Bree. Luca, refreshed from his nap, was as energetic as ever, constantly keeping up a stream of questions for the farmer who enthusiastically answered each one.
The sun was setting by the time the warm glow of Midgewater came into view. "Why don't you and yer boy stay with us tonigh'?" Rube Tiller invited, pulling his cart to a stop in front of a small house and barn. " 'm sure the Misses would be more'n happy to put you up for th' night."
"Oh," Moira said, momentarily stunned by the offer. "That's very kind, but we couldn't impose. I'm sure there are some good inns in Midgewater." It would be nice not to have to carry the sleepy, and soon to be grumpy, Luca into town.
"Yes, there are plenty of fine places there in town," he said, nodding, "but why spend yer money when you don't have to? It'd be no bother. We don't have any rooms, but the barn is dry an' warm here in the spring-time."
Moira hesitated, but the whining sound coming from Luca made up her mind. "Thank you. A place to stay would be most welcome." Rube nodded, satisfied, and began caring for the horse, waving Moira and Luca towards the barn. Moira shouldered her pack and gently shifted Luca so that she could comfortably carry him.
The barn was warm and dim inside, quiet except for the soft sound of a few oxen. Moira spotted the ladder to the hayloft and moved towards it, gently shaking Luca awake and putting him down. Luca awoke reluctantly and swayed on his feet, but moved up the ladder in front of him. Moira followed just a step behind him, keeping a hand on Luca's back the entire time.
He pulled himself over the edge of the hayloft and flopped down on the straw. Moira untied their blankets from the pack and spread one over the hay, the other set aside to be used as a blanket. She helped Luca into his nightshirt before dressing for bed, herself, and tucked him in, covering him with both the blanket and her coat. He would probably need it. The nights were still a bit cold.
"Ma?" he asked blearily, cuddling into her. "Stowy?"
"Not tonight, Luca," Moira murmured, shifting so that Luca could curl into a more comfortable position against her.
"Pweeeeease?" he asked, looking up at her.
How could she say no to him? Her eyes were burning with tiredness and she could already feel her muscles stiffening in the cool night air, but she forced her tired mind to wander over the stories she knew. "Just one." She could just see Luca's victorious grin through the back of his head. "How about when Peter challenged the lions?"
"No," Luca said dismissively. "I want da badinning."
Moira sighed, "You want the first time Wendy met Peter Pan?" Luca nodded and her head throbbed, but she cleared her throat and began with the only part of the story she knew by heart. "All children, except one, grow up."1
"It happened on the quiet street of Blomsbury, at the home of the Darling family. And Peter Pan chose this particular house because there were people there who believed in him. There was Mrs. Darling and Mr. Darling and their three children, Wendy, John, and Michael. John and Michael, believed Peter Pan was a real person and made him the hero of all their nursery games. Wendy, the eldest, not only believed, she was the supreme authority on Peter Pan and all his marvelous adventures. Nana, the nursemaid, being a dog, kept her opinions to herself and viewed the whole affair with a certain tolerance."
"One night, after the children were in bed, Peter came visiting. He crawled through the nursery window, but before he could get up to any mischief, Nana came in from her evening out. She chased Peter out the open window, barking after him. The children awoke just in time to see the boy disappear out the window. They ran down to the courtyard, but there was no body or sign of the strange boy they had seen."
"Betuz, Betuz he fwew away," Luca reminded her.
Her heart sank. "Yes. Because he flew away." Peter flew away, but they— It hurt too much to think on. "Peter flew away, but Luca, you know that we can't fly, don't you?" Moira asked softly, resting her chin on his head. "Don't you?"
"Da," Luca said excitedly, "betuz we need fawey dust to fwy!" he said, twisting up to look at her.
Moira tried to smile, but it felt stretched. She cleared her throat and continued the story. "The children went back up to the nursery, and what did they find?"
"Da, Da sadow," Luca yawned, rubbing blearily at his eyes.
"Yes, the shadow. In her mouth, Nana held Peter's shadow that he had left behind in his hurry to get away. Wendy took the shadow from Nana and put it away carefully in a drawer, so that she could find it if the boy came back." Moira trailed off, waiting for Luca to beg her to go on, but Luca was silent. He'd drifted off.
She lay in the hayloft, waiting for sleep to claim her, but the story had brought up so many things she didn't want to remember. "Luca," she whispered softly, so as not to wake him, "people can't fly." A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Not even if they're Peter Pan."
Moira tucked the blanket in around Luca more securely before she laid back, listening to the night and Luca's deep, even breathing before allowing herself to drift to sleep, rubbing small circles on the back of his soft hand.
Dawn came too early, as it usually does before a difficult day. Moira moaned, giving in, just for a moment, to tiredness and regret. Luca rolled over, taking the fragment of blanket Moira had kept for herself with him. The early morning was crisp and Moira jumped from foot to foot, pulling on her dress over her smock from the day before. The hem was coming loose—she'd have to mend it later—but it was still clean.
As quietly as she could, Moira began packing their things, leaving Luca to sleep for just a bit longer, but all too soon, she knew she'd have to wake him. She carried the pack down to the ground floor of the barn before returning to the loft, wrapping the still sleeping Luca in the blankets and piggybacking him down the ladder. He grumbled some, but remained limp in her arms, half asleep, half awake. He was a ragdoll and certainly didn't make dressing him easy, but by some small miracle, she managed it. Moira transferred him in front of herself before wriggling into the pack and stepping out of the barn into the gray morning light.
The farmyard was quiet and no light came from the house. Moira silently thanked Rube before beginning her march again along the road, Luca dozing against her shoulder.
All too soon, the pale dawn light became brighter and warmer as it rose into the sky. Midgewater loomed before them, a small town, still asleep save for the forge fires and the tired boys tending to them. Moira moved quickly through the streets, not interested in waiting for the shops to open. By the time the town was beginning to come alive, Moira and Luca were half a mile down the road, chewing on corn cakes while they walked. Luca, bless him, stayed close, keeping a cautionary grip on the edge of her skirt. He still didn't seem quite himself, but trotted along quietly, pausing every few minutes to watch a cart bump past them or a bug crawl lazily across the road.
It was in to the ninth day of their journey when the dreaded question was finally asked.
"Ma, aw we dere yet?"
Moira chuckled, looking back at Luca who was beginning to lag behind again. "Not yet," she said, trying to keep her voice happy and her own anxiety suppressed. If she were being honest with herself, she would have admitted that she was tired too. Her feet ached and the skin of her heel was cracked and bleeding. So much for the thick soles of Hobbit feet. "But we're almost there," she added when she saw his face beginning to twist into a pout.
He brightened at the thought, but all too soon, he asked her again "Aw we dere yet?"
Moira took a deep breath, looking around at the trees around them. They had passed over the last bridge and into the Trollshaws just that morning, but already the new environment had lost its charm for her brother.
"Maaa?" Luca whined loudly, beginning to drag his feet, kicking up great puffs of dirt into the air.
"Luca," Moira said quickly, dropping down to her knee in front of him. "Hush." She didn't mean to be so stern, but something about the woods bothered her. Scared her. They were too quiet during day and even more so at night, as if the animals had fled. She just wanted to get them though as quickly as possible, making as little noise as they could.
She lifted Luca into her arms and began walking at a faster pace than before, checking over her shoulder every few moments to make sure that nothing was following behind them. Stalking them.
Luca didn't seem to have her fear of the forest. Instead, her wriggled in her arms, whining until Moira thought that the whole forest could hear him. "Luca, we have to be quiet."
"Why?" he moaned.
"Because we're in the forest," Moira said, an idea beginning to form, "and do you know who lives in the forest?"
"Who?" Luca asked, stilling in her arms.
"Indians!" Moira whispered, looking around at the trees.
"Indains?!" Luca shouted before clapping his hands over his mouth.
"Yes," she said quietly, lifting him higher onto her hip. "You know, this reminds me of the first time Wendy and John and Michael went to Neverland. The Lost Boys went out walking to look for Peter, but they didn't know that the pirates were out looking for them!"
"No!" Luca gasped.
"Yes! The Lost Boys were out looking for Peter, the pirates were out looking for the Lost Boys, the redskins were out looking for the pirates, and the beasts were out looking for the redskins. They were going round and round the island, but they never met because they were walking at the same speed!"2
"But den, but den dat means," Luca whispered, looking up at Moira.
A howl split the air.
Long, bone chilling, and too close. Luca's arms snapped around Moira's neck and her heart leapt into her throat. Her long strides became a frantic run as she raced down the road, fear stifling all but her most primal instincts. She didn't – couldn't – look back as she ran down the road.
Another howl rang through the woods, joined by three answering calls. Luca buried his head in her coat collar as she ran around another bend in the road. The sounds were getting closer, louder, and she shuddered.
Moira had heard stories of wolves before, packs roaming the northern wastelands during winter, but nothing had prepared her for this. He legs shook and her lungs ached as she vaulted over a fallen log and off the main road. Wolves shouldn't be in the lowlands in spring. Wolves shouldn't hunt people.
There was a tree just ahead that had branches low enough for her to reach. She could hear the heavy breathing of the wolves now, but she would not look back. She reached the tree and lifted Luca onto the highest branch that she could reach before pulling herself up after him. She lifted them higher and higher into the tree, not stopping until she was afraid that the branches would not bear their weight. Only then did she pause to catch her breath and look down at the forest floor below.
She could see shadows moving past the tree's base and she could hear them, but what frightened her most was the sound of harsh voices calling out to one another.
It wasn't just wolves.
Moira held her breath as the pack circled the tree once, twice, and then were gone. God bless their luck. They were not the ones being hunted.
But someone else must be.
Moira pushed the thought aside. It would not do to dwell on matters beyond her control, but she hesitated. She was not yet so hardened by burden that she would not hope for the wellbeing of others, though strangers they may be.
Please, let whoever they are escape.
Hope you liked the chapter. Tell me what you think if you have a moment! Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up more quickly, but I'm going back to college in a week, so who knows what will happen. I promise the Dwarves will be in the next chapter. I just really needed to set up Moira, Luca and their back-story before delving into the characterization of Thorin's Company.
1 "All children, except on, grow up." This is taken from the first line of J.M. Barrie's Peter Pan.
2 Quote taken from chapter 5 of Peter Pan.
The bedtime story cobbled together from the Disney, live action, and book with my own paraphrasing. If anyone is interested in what belongs to which version, send me a message.
