Chapter 6

"It is past time to awaken."

"Ag grmfl mrffl." I buried my head deeper into the notch of my arm.

"Wake," a voice insisted.

Wha…? A familiar staff swam into view, aiming for rump above where my left leg dangled from the edge of my hammock of branches and twigs. I yelped and jumped from my perch. Only the tree's quick catch preventing me from toppling to the ground.

"What is wrong with you?" I hollered, dangling there and glaring down at the smirking wizard.

"Good. You are awake. Gather your things, Mistress Hunt. We are leaving." Radagast hastened to his sled making the most peculiar noises in the back of his throat. Eight Rhosgobel rabbit heads popped up like prairie dogs, their ears extended and panned his way.

The tree held me about my waist a good ten feet of the ground. Its energy, I was gratified to note, looked infinitely healthier than the night before. Emerald green flowed along its surface with vitality. Little of the telltale yellow remained.

Thank you, I whistled in tree-speech.

The redwood's leaves sighed with happiness.

At least someone was happy. For myself, the events of the night before were smacking me in the face. What had I been thinking? Sharing with Radagast? Splitting a vein for him? It was mortifying to remember in the – quick glance towards the dark, canopy-choked sky – dubious light of day. I rubbed the bridge of my nose, a pool of dread collecting in my gut.

What were you thinking, Daphne? You know better than confide in people. My amma's face flashed through my mind's eye in indictment.

And then Thranduil. I buried my head in my hands. What had I been thinking? Like I was with it enough to judge his character the day before. If he could fill the immense expanse of Mirkwood with his power, fooling me would be child's play.

Don't do this, a small voice chimed in, but I thrust it aside. I'd suspend judgment on Thandruil based upon what I thought I'd detected from him, but anyone else was out. I knew better than to trust until trust was earned. From here on out, I'd be more careful.

No one will accept you. I closed my eyes tight, pressing fingers into the corners. Would that voice never leave me be? It plagued me, sounding exactly like Aleks.

Stop it, I told myself. Just stop.

The redwood set me down at my request. I patted it, my gaze finding Radagast. The wizard harnessed his rabbits to the sled with gentle words and affectionate scratches behind their ears. Maybe he had the right of it. Better to trust the animals than people. Animals acted true to their nature. They didn't dish out betrayal and insults.

My fault.

With years of experience, I snuffed out that voice, too, and grabbed my tote. I retrieved a bottle of water and an energy bar from inside. Munching, I reviewed my options.

I'd promised the Elvenking that I would relay his message. I saw no harm in that, so I'd pass it along – minus the tidbit about being delivered to his doorstep. Other than that, the only pressing item on my agenda was to cleanse the other trees that had risen to my defense. I still didn't like how a few of them looked.

If I did that, I'd probably run into the Elvenking's essence again. That brilliant, concentrated glow was missing, so I suspected he was busy with something else, but if I began messing with the trees, he'd surely know. Was I ready for another encounter?

Am I really such a coward that I'd let the trees suffer just so that I could avoid an uncomfortable situation? Ouch. I winced as I scored a direct hit against myself. Plus, how smart was it to try to cleanse one without Thranduil's supervision? Was I even remotely ready for that?

"Come, come. We must away."

Well, he must. Thranduil's orders aside, I was not ready to leave. Careful to keep my mask in place, I gave him blank eyes. "I cannot leave." Calm, even voice.

Radagast halted from his bustling busyness to shoot a sharp hazel look my way, though they didn't (of course) really land on me. Shrewd eyes assessed. Measured. Decided. "We are fortunate no additional orcs or wargs have found us as of yet. The party that pursued us will be missed. More will come in search of answers."

My hands found my elbows, and I hugged myself against a sudden brush of fear. The trees couldn't defend me again. Not easily and not without a higher price tag.

OoOoOo

Radagast sighed to himself, noting the way her face closed down. Her body language betrayed her, but it was clear she was not cognizant of the fact. With one hand on his staff, he considered his options.

He couldn't leave her here. The naiad was unique. The Valar alone knew how she had arrived in Dol Guldur, but Radagast was convinced if the Valar had not permitted it, she wouldn't have arrived on Middle Earth at all.

Did she persist in believing she was in Faerie? It seemed likely.

So be it. He must get her to Gandalf. The other wizard would know what to do. Saruman was an option as well, but with the Morgul blade hanging heavy within his robes, Radagast knew Gandalf the only reasonable choice. Gandalf would heed his warnings about the southern, abandoned fortress. Saruman would not. Filled with animosity and disdain for him, Saruman would dismiss the information solely based upon its source.

He could waste no time. Both driving needs would be satisfied with one answer: Gandalf.

"The trees must wait," he told the naiad, at once awkward with trying to comfort her and sorrowful on her behalf. He, too, loved nature. Her link to the living things was strong. Where she closed herself off from people, the plants held her heart. "I must find Gandalf."

That smooth, expressionless face didn't change by so much as a flicker of those almond-shaped green eyes. Wind tousled her choppy brown locks, yet she ignored it, for all the world unmoved. Ah, child, do not lock yourself inside so.

"Come. Let us away."

She didn't move.

They wasted time, time Middle Earth could not spare. He drew himself up and let his power flow around him like a cloak, darkening the sky and turning his voice thunderous. "I say we must away. Into the sled, Mistress Hunt."

"But…" Small, her voice. And that unmoving expression cracked, revealing doubt and fear.

He hardened himself. "Into the sled."

OoOoOo

The jerk had used intimidation.

I huffed to myself as the rabbits pulled us down deer paths at a break-neck speed, Mirkwood rushing by in a dark, sickly-yellow blur. Worse, I'd fallen for it. The guy who went all goo-goo eyed at an injured animal would not strike down an unarmed woman, I didn't think. Yet, when he'd used that voice, I'd jumped.

I hadn't known he had it in him. Gandalf, yes. But Radagast? Made me wonder if the Blue Wizards had it as well. Was it an all-purpose wizard voice? A tool to keep the rest of us in check?

I mentally stuck out my tongue at myself.

OoOoOo

But for potty breaks, we didn't stop for two stinking days. How, I ask, can rabbits possess the stamina of a hardened Marine?

The first twelve hours, I was impressed. But after a disjointed night of sleep in the moving sled, it turned into a kind of awe-filled horror. The freakish things showed no sign of tiring. How creepy was that? Every time I glanced at them thereafter, all I could hear in the back of my mind was, They keep going, and going, and going…

My grumpy train of thought was derailed as a piggy-bank sized bee zoomed up to me and hovered by my nose, buzzing. Blank antennae tasted the air between us, and the bee landed on my face. Given its size, I didn't argue. I waited, playing statue as it crawled over my head, its fuzzy body vibrating. It peeled off and orbited around me.

"You confuse them," a strange voice proclaimed.

I jumped out of my skin. Hand pressed to chest, I turned wide eyes to find…Beorn. Who else could it be? Huge bees. A giant of a man with black, shaggy hair and a lush black beard. One look and my tired brain burst into song, singing The Lumberjack Song.

A hysterical giggle attempted to worm its way past my throat, and I coughed twice, trying to swallow it back. The good news was that my blank face didn't budge. He'd have no clue he gave me the giggles.

"What are you?" Beorn asked in his velvety bass voice.

Mama mia, was the man's voice devastatingly appealing. Seven-foot-something men did nothing for me, but that voice. Yowza.

"Does she not speak?" Those dark eyes swiveled to my right.

Radagast snorted and walked into view. "Oh, she speaks. I believe she is convincing herself that you do not exist, either."

Grumble, grumble. My mask slipped, allowing a short glare out. "I speak," I said calmly, returning to the skin-changer as I maneuvered my stiff body out of the cargo bed. My limbs were numb from remaining trapped in one position for too long. I tripped over nothing, hurling myself at Beorn's feet.

Or rather, I would have if he hadn't quickly reached out and caught me. "Does she walk?" he asked next, a note of dry humor entering his tone.

I almost scowled at him. Don't reveal. Emotions are a weapon. Don't give him one. The thought did occur that this was Beorn. I was in Middle Earth. If I couldn't open up to people here, where could I? The moon?

The moon's empty, Daph, a part of me chided.

Oh, shut up.

His head dipped, and he stared at me from beneath lowered brows. A hank of hair found its way into my mouth. "What," he finally repeated, "are you?" He bent forward at the waist, leaned in close, and inhaled. "Maple?" He straightened with bushy brows high.

Radagast's staff thumped on the ground a couple times. "Maple?"

"She smells of maple," the skin-changer explained.

That quick, I had two very curious pairs of eyes upon me. What, like I wanted to admit I was odder than they thought? That I sweat maple crystals instead of normal salt?

When I didn't answer, Beorn frowned, his gaze flicking to Radagast. "I am real," he said, the words laced with the beginnings of impatience.

"I realize that," I said in an even tone.

Another snort from Radagast. "It seems, my friend, that you outrank me in Mistress Hunt's estimation."

"He doesn't-" I tried, only to be cut off.

"She truly doubts you to be real?" Disbelief. A perplexed expression that traveled from Radagast to me.

"No, she does not."

Hold up. Why was Radagast talking to Beorn like he existed? Probably because he becomes a bear.

"Why do you not believe the Brown Wizard real?" Another sideways glance to the wizard. "Is she touched?"

I felt my composure slipping. Self-directed anger flared. What, like I needed another lesson on why it was better not to be vulnerable around others? You always mess things up. Don't go thinking anything is going to change about that just because you are in a new world. My lips compressed. I tried to ignore that voice. How sad was it that even separated from my twin, Aleks haunted me?

Guilt. I hadn't thought of him in days. What did that say about me? I decided I really didn't want to know.

"If you would, my friend," Radagast said with all the manners of a courtly lord, "I must check on my animal friends at Rhosgobel before we venture into the Misty Mountains. Please watch over the naiad. She will need provisions and warmer attire."

Wait. What? He was leaving me? After miles of me haranguing him, begging to be left behind as well as delivering Thranduil's message, now he was going to leave me?

My eyes flew from the men to the distant outline of Mirkwood.

"Please, keep her here."

I almost gave myself whiplash, my head spun towards the wizard so fast. "Radagast…"

"Oh, so I'm Radagast again?" he drawled.

Who was this guy, and what had he done with the Brown Wizard? That's what I wanted to know. "Thranduil-"

"The Elvenking," he corrected.

Bah! Fine. "The Elvenking," I stressed, "wished to speak with you."

His rowan staff thumped against the grassy ground. "You have yet to explain how it is possible that he gave you such a message."

Nor would I. I'd never heard of Thranduil – excuse me, the Elvenking – having such a power over his forest. If it was a secret he chose to keep, they could double dip me before I'd spill the beans. My arms folded before my chest, and my chin lifted a notch.

A significant look passed between the men, one in which Beorn's messy brows rose, Radagast nodded, and Beorn donned an ah-ha expression. What was that, a secret man-code or something?

"I will watch over her," Beorn said with finality.

Radagast beamed at him and scurried to his sled. I hastily snatched my tote from the cargo area. "Radagast, really, I should stay near Mirkwood."

Sharp hazel eyes speared the area before me. "You will accompany me upon my journey."

I felt a whine welling up. "Why?"

A satisfied smirk. "I have my reasons. Farewell until the morning, green-child." Without further ado, he left.

OoOoOo

Beorn had animals as servants. Stepping inside the darker confines of his cabin, I paused upon sighting an upright gray dog setting the table. The mutt flicked his years in some silent communication.

Beorn said, "Thank you, Jasper."

The dog padded from the room, still on two legs.

I was led to a tall seat at the table and hefted up on it without a word.

"Thank you," I managed to say, feeling awe-struck as I looked around. A white mare clopped her way to us and deposited a domed platter. A sheep added a honey jar beside it. Still another dog provided a bowl full of fragrant fruit. I thanked them lowly, craning my head around to watch as they filed out a side door. As Orphan Annie would have said, Leaping lizards.

Beorn served up warm, fresh bread and nudged the honey and butter dish my way. I sighed upon spotting the metal spoon and knife and reached into my jeans pocket, pulling out a pair of yellow, wrist-length gloves.

"Why did you do that?" he asked as I claimed the knife and slathered creamy butter on my bread. "What are you?" he pressed again.

"I'm a naiad," I said around a mouthful of scrumptious bread, my taste buds exulting in the divine flavor. My legs kicked beneath me from my oversized chair as I hummed in pleasure.

He finished chewing his own bite, his beard moving in tandem with his jaw. Then, he planted elbows on the table. One brow lifted in a clear question. When I failed to respond, that brow wriggled like a worm on a hook, amusement creeping over his face.

I bit back a chuckle.

"Why do you do that?" he asked.

Now what? "What?" I asked as I sawed off another slice of bread.

One large finger turned my chin towards him, and then both humongous hands bracketed my face. The thumbs pressed into the corners of my lips and prodded them upwards. "You can smile," he murmured as if to himself but clearly teasing me. "Your face did not break."

Funny.

"Is it against your beliefs?"

"Yes, it is," I pounced. "We naiads believe our god…er…Santa…will come down in his sleigh and curse us with coal if we smile or laugh. It is forbidden." All said flatly, though inwardly I struggled not to burst into laughter.

He gave me bland eyes, his hands returning to his own piece of bread, tearing a section off. "Is that so?"

"Absolutely."

Somehow, I got the impression he didn't believe me.

OoOoOo

The next morning arrived with a vengeance. I moaned and held my head, my tongue fuzzy and dry. I swallowed down two pain killer pellets as I followed Radagast back to his sled.

What happened last night? I remembered sitting by a warm fire, curled up in an upholstered chair in Beorn's den. I'd fallen asleep only to rouse shortly thereafter from a terrifying nightmare. After that, I'd decided not to sleep again. Ever.

Beorn had offered me something sweet and spicy to drink, saying it would soothe my nerves, then… nothing.

My head whipped up - my skull pounding at the sudden movement - and I felt panic seize me by the throat. He'd gotten me drunk. Blurry memory returned. I'd gulped down cup after cup of whatever it was he'd plied me with, and all the while, we'd spoken.

What did I tell him? Chills raced down my body, pebbling my flesh. What did I TELL him?

When Beorn intercepted us at the sled for farewells, I hauled back and threw a punch his way. He was agile and easily dodged my throw, capturing me instead in his big arms with my back pressed to his chest. There, he held me, refusing to let loose.

"Easy, now, Little Sister."

The term gutted me, but I refused to cry or let any tears darken my sight. Never let them see you cry. My promise. Never mind my slip with Thranduil. It wouldn't happen again.

"You needed the peace," Beorn said softly. "Do not be angry that I plied you with nalewka. I have found it eases both the heart and mind." Then he told me, "You will always be welcome here, little dryad. Remember that. Should you need me, send word and I will come."

My anger at him faded at the ring of sincerity in his words, leaving my robbed of any defense against his kindness.

"Are you listening?" he asked.

All I could do was bob my head. (When, exactly, had I become such a basket case?) Try as I might, I could not remember the last time I'd been held. Not with any clarity. Marcus and Nancy had provided for physical needs such as food and shelter, but they'd never hugged us if we cried, never mopped up tears or patted our hands if we skinned our knees. None of their Pack had, either. We weren't like them. They tolerated us, but nothing more.

And here was this skin-changer, holding me like I mattered. He's just being nice, a part of me said, a part that hardened itself against him in response.

I bobbed my head again, the only answer I could give.

Beorn grunted in the back of his throat. "Hear me, Little Sister," and his grip on me tightened as I flinched, "You are not a monster. Nor are you cursed or unlovable. Do not close yourself away so."

This from a man who lived in isolation? Not fair, I berated myself. He wouldn't be isolated much longer.

"You do not want to live the whole of your life alone," he continued, his chin coming to rest upon the crown of my head. What, I asked myself again, did I tell him? "The Valar brought you here. Trust that they did not do so to leave you abandoned."

Another flinch.

A soft kiss upon my forehead, one that astounded me. I gaped at him, my face so far out of my control that I knew every ounce of fear and grief was painted there for all to see. I resented the snot out of it. Resented feeling so vulnerable and for being so vulnerable.

"Go now."

With his donated woolen cloak and tunic on my body as well as blankets added to the sled, we left.

The memory of his strong embrace lingered.