One of the last of her kind, Nixie, is ruthlessly hunted by orcs, goblins and dark forces alike - fearing for her life, she goes into hiding for many years. Eventually, united by fate a certain Grey Wizard found her, timid and completely isolated fr...
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THE COMPANY TRAVELLED ALONGSIDE SPARKLING, fresh-water streams. They travelled up abnormally large hills, with faces that were grey with gravel. They travelled through woodlands, that had trees that were enormously big and were as almost old as time itself. They travelled across, long, vast, vibrant plains. Until night fell; that was when they stopped - the only break they got.
The Company camped on a crescent that fell into a hill behind them, the surface was extremely uneven and the entire Company had found it nearly impossible to find a flat part where they could set up the fire. Some of the Dwarves slept on cold, lumpy rocks that would definitely give them a sore back in the morning; others slept on the soft dirt of the floor.
As usual, Nixie sat between Kili and Fili; the three of them were sat on a blanket that Kili had stolen from Bilbo's house many hours ago. In a friendly manner, Nixie was using Fili's arm as a headrest and Kili's legs as a footrest.
"How many do you think will be alive tomorrow morning?" quizzed Kili, who was referring to the obscene number of moths that were flowing in and out of Bombur's mouth.
Nixie was amazed at how the Dwarf hadn't woken up, "How many were already trapped in there from yesterday?" Nixie asked back, earning a quiet chuckle from the two Prince's.
They paused from the conversation as they watched with sudden interest as the Hobbit awoke, Bilbo, let out a loud sigh as he stood up - tiptoeing around the Dwarves that were asleep on the floor. Gandalf was smoking his clay pipe in the corner, sat on one of the flatter stones nearest to the tree line. Bilbo abruptly stopped, stretching in the light of the moon; it appeared he was heading over to the ponies, that were either sleeping or grazing peacefully.
The trio chuckled lightly when they saw the so-called: Petrified of Ponies, Bilbo Baggins strolling up to his pony, Myrtle and began to stroke her mane. He rubbed in between her ears, "Who's a good girl?" Bilbo cooed, the Hobbit pulled a shiny, red apple out of his pocket and began to feed it to his pony. "It's our little secret Myrtle," Bilbo explained, "You must tell no one."
A loud, animalistic screech made all of Nixie's hairs stand on end; for once she was truly terrified. The Nymph sat up straight, then stood onto both legs; unsheathing her sword. She knew that sound too well; she had heard that sound when her entire Kingdom was raided by Orcs - men, women and children were killed. That included her Mother and Father, probably as well as her siblings. That sound meant death.
The Hobbit turned quickly, "What was that?" he inquired direly, hopping back over to the other Dwarves, Nymph and Wizard - hoping that they would provide safety for him.
"Orcs," Kili breathed out, whose dark eyes wandered out into the valley below.
Bilbo's eyes widened, "Orcs?" he repeated, looking desperately scarce.
