Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Hobbit or maybe even Lord of the Rings mainly to J.R.R. Tolkien. No disrespect intended! :D
Author's Note: Enjoy! This is my first fanfic, so I'm not sure how it'll go. Please review and give me feedback!
Summary: When Beorn comes upon a young and lonely child alone in the woods, he takes him in and raises him. But several years later, a wizard, thirteen dwarves, and a halfling come to his lodgings and disturbs the peace. Beorn can't imagine his little child leaving him to go with Thorin and Co but it seems a sense of adventure tugs at their feet the moment the wizard tells them a tale.
Chapter One
It was a bright warm day and the sun was up high. A lone black bear was strolling along the border of the woods as he always did in the mornings. Rabbits hopped by and mice scampered nearby, but the bear didn't pounce. Because the bear wasn't a real bear.
Beorn changed back to his human form when his house was in sight. At a leisurely stride, he headed toward the house. Birds twittered peacefully and flew past him. A few horses galloped up to Beorn, and he laughed and patted them on their snouts. They snorted in satisfaction and trotted away.
This was how life was - this was how life always was. Until one day.
Beorn had been circling the borders of the woods once more, gathering honey in jars from beehives. But what disturbed him was a squeal - a loud, high-pitched squeal.
Beorn turned, cocking an eyebrow. It was not an animal, for all the animals were smart enough to stay nearby the house, where it was safe. Beorn placed the honey on the shelves and carefully listened for the squeal again, but it never came. So he sat down on a chair and sipped some tea.
Then it came again. The squeal, the high-pitched and annoying squeal. Beorn stood up with a huff, snatching up his axe that he used to chop wood for the fireplace. If it was an animal caught in some kind of trap or in pain, he would at least try and heal it, but if he couldn't, the best thing to do was to put it out of its misery.
But that was only a last resort that Beorn used, and he only used it if he thought it was better for the animal.
He hesitated, then dropped the axe, deciding that it would be better for him to stroll in his bear form instead. He quickly shifted shapes, and then romped forward. Big paw tracks (his own footprints) trailed after him, but he ignored it. It wasn't important right now.
The bushes rustled ominously, and Beorn turned with a growl, tense. His shoulder fur bristled as the wind swept breezily. A second later, the squealing sound came again, and out popped ... a child.
Beorn stopped just in time from pouncing in self-defense. The child stared, eyes wide, mouth open, then let out a shriek of fright. Beorn grimaced. He quickly turned and trotted at a fast pace behind some ferns and trees, then made sure he was out of sight of the child before changing back into a human.
Then he waited a moment, wondering if the child had gone. A whimpering sound came again. Nope. Beorn sighed, then strode forward, trying his best not to look intimidating.
The child was cowering, apparently frozen in fear and whimpering and quivering. Beorn bent down and knelt on one knee, then slowly placed a hand on the thin child's shoulder. "You are scared," he murmured in soothing tone. "Has something happened?"
"B-bear," the child stuttered. His deep amber eyes were filled with fear. "Who are you? W-where am I?"
"I am Beorn," Beorn answered, then couldn't help but smile at the puzzlement and curiosity on the child's face. Aye, that probably hadn't explained much. "You are near my lodgings. Come, I shall take you to a safe place, little child. Normally I wouldn't accept visitors, yet ... I suppose you shall be an exception." Beorn smiled kindly, or rather, tried his best. Then he extended a hand.
The child stared at the hand in slight fear, biting his lip.
"Come, now," Beorn coaxed, as though he were speaking to a young bear cub. "I shan't hurt you."
The child reluctantly extended a hand as well, then placed the tiny hand into Beorn's big paw-like hands. "Excellent," Beorn smiled. "Good little cub."
"Little cub?" the child looked up at him in curiosity. "Why do you call me a cub?"
Beorn silently cursed himself and quickly searched for an answer, unwilling to tell the child about his shape-shifting ability. "Because I like bears," he said at last. He quickly changed the subject. "I have introduced myself; now it is your turn, young child."
The child regarded him with wariness. "Father said to never tell my name to strangers," he said at last.
Beorn smiled again, doing his best to look kind and not intimidating. "I am a friend, not a stranger," he told the child.
The child's amber eyes flashed for a moment with defiance, and Beorn fought the urge to grin at the child's boldness. "I'm Devyn," he said at last.
"A fine name," Beorn complimented. He looked up. They had already arrived at Beorn's cozy house. "Come, we are here."
Beorn scanned the boy well for the first time. The boy was sipping on some warm milk that Beorn had given him, and nibbled on some bread and honey. He had messy reddish-brown hair that went down to his shoulders and curled at the edges. It went well with his amber eyes. His eyes were filled with curiosity and his hands were small but nimble.
"May I ask your age?" Beorn said at last, breaking the silence.
Devyn gave him a smile. His fingers sticky with honey, he showed nine fingers. "I'm nine," he announced proudly. "Father said I'm a big boy now."
"And where is your father?" Beorn prompted.
Devyn's eyes clouded and he paused. "I ... I do not know," he muttered at last. "I-I can't remember anything!"
"It shall come to you later," Beorn soothed. "In the meantime, your hands are sticky with honey, little cub. You must wash them."
Giggling, Devyn jumped up with a broad smile. Beorn paused. "May I pick you up?" he asked politely.
"You may," Devyn answered arrogantly, and Beorn tweaked the boy's nose with a chuckle. Devyn giggled.
"Perhaps a bath should be better for you," Beorn mused as he carried the boy lightly. "You are very grimy."
The boy stiffened. "A bath?" he muttered. "Sir, I hate baths."
"And yet you must take them." Beorn looked into the boy's amber eyes. "If you do not want to take a bath, then I shall at least wet a cloth and wipe your face to clean it. That should do for now. Is that okay?"
Devyn nodded, looking a bit happier. Beorn sat the child down and directed him to wash his hands. The sloshing of the water made Beorn grimace; he himself wasn't a huge fan of wet water. He soaked a cloth in warm water before gently swiping the child's face.
Devyn let out a giggle and Beorn paused. "T-that tickles!" Devyn giggled.
Beorn couldn't help but chuckle. He finished wiping the child's face and then sat him down on a wooden chair. "You need some new clothes," Beorn commented. He pulled out some wool and thread from a drawer and began to quickly weave a tunic and new breeches. He fitted the child into them, and to his relief, Devyn seemed to like his new clothes.
Slipping on some small boots on the child's feet, he looked up at Devyn. "How does that feel?" Beorn asked. He sniffed a grin when Devyn scrunched up his face, thinking.
He shrugged. "Fine."
Beorn, relieved, began to quickly make a small cot for Devyn.
Aye, he didn't like humans. He didn't like dwarves, but he hated Orcs. But a young orphaned child? Beorn was unsure of what to do. He surely couldn't leave the child to die.
He looked up from carving the wood. Devyn was still sitting on that wooden chair, but he had picked up a small wooden carving of a horse, and was beaming broadly as he played silently.
Aye. He couldn't leave the child alone. There was only one option left.
Raise him.
End of Chapter One
Author's Note: How was it? I'm not very pleased with how it went, so I'll try and make the next chapter better. Please REVIEW and tell me what you thought!