Disclaimer: The Hobbit, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J. R. R. Tolkien's estate, and Warner Brothers, New Line Cinema, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and WingNut Films.
Beorn's Elf
Your jibs and thoroughly unimpressed looks roll off Gandalf like water drops. The grey wizard is intently focused on his mission: bringing you and Bard to meet with the dwarves. (Never mind your own wishes.) There are times to deny wizards' schemes, and then there are times to humor them. And since Gandalf's eyebrows are practically bristling… This time right now would be the latter.
Exchanging a self-suffering glance with Bard behind the wizard's back, you sigh deeply. Naturally, this meeting will go splendidly, as it always does when elves and dwarves are involved. But then, together you did just defeat the enemy's armies. Maybe there is a possibility this won't go too badly. Yet you aren't going to get your hopes up. And perhaps this council will not last too long, and then you'll be able—
"Little bunny!"
The sudden, booming voice makes you jump. Pausing for just an instant, Gandalf's lips quiver and his brows reach for his hairline. It is impossible to tell if he looks displeased or amused, before he briskly leads you around the corner of a tent.
It is thanks to your countless diplomacy lessons growing up that you successfully keep your face from showing your astonishment. Instead you merely blink as you watch a giant of a grizzly man, surrounded by dwarves, balancing the Halfling, Bilbo Baggins, on his broad shoulder.
"Little Owl! Plump Panda! Mister Fluffers! Fussy Hen! Moustached Treeswift! Sweet Piglet! Clever Fox! Little Bear! Pretty Possum! Billy Goat Gruff! Golden Lion! Cute Pup!"
The names fly so fast, a deep merry thunder, you cannot tell which of the weary dwarves the man is hailing. Apparently the last two called are the young Durin princes, whose pale drawn expressions break out into wide grins.
The man's happy expression abruptly evaporates, and you jump a second time when he drops to his knees, sets the hobbit down.
"Grumpy Badger must be taken care of!" he rumbles.
Now you spot Thorin Oakenshield in the middle of the group, wreathed in bandages, pale and dirtied, supported by two of his companions. The dwarven lord looks stunned when the giant man reaches out and begins petting him on the head.
"Poor Grumpy Badger!" the man sighs. Then his eyes flash. "Orcs not hurt my Grumpy Badger again!"
You stare. Grumpy Badger!? How undignified…how fitting. Tilting your head slightly, it almost looks like Thorin is now subtlety leaning into the tall creature's touch like a cat, his expression softening slightly. You blink. Well.
Suddenly, Thorin spots you, and he scowls. You give him a composed cool look in return.
"Well met, Thorin Oakenshield!" Gandalf hastily cries and steps forward (reluctantly you do the same), becoming the focus of attention. "I have brought King Thranduil and Bard—"
You barely have time to register the huge shadow looming over you or the grey wizard's voice halting before you suddenly are lifted from the ground. To your dying day you will deny the girlish shriek that escapes you. The next thing you know is strong arms rocking you like a babe against a large chest, your hair in your eyes and feet up in the air. The dark-haired man beams down on you while the others are gaping up at you. How humiliating.
"Glowing Penguin!" the man coos fondly.
You freeze. No, this is humiliating!
"Glowing Penguin's Grumpy Badger's new cousin!" he proclaims. "Everyone come to Beorn's for family dinner!"
You faint.
THE END