Thorin found himself once more laying over Dolraw's back, knowing this time he truly was seeing an unclothed woman beneath him; though what left him raised on his arms staring down at her were the old markings of a whip etched into her skin. He recalled the Great Goblin's words of Azog being her master – though he could not believe the pale orc lived – and he recalled the rage bellowing in her roar; he realized, though she had lied to them all, though she were a woman who very much understood every word that was spoken, she had been held prisoner of terrible creatures – tortured, raped, whipped. How could he possibly blame her for being wary of what they would do upon discovering she was a woman, when she had every right to fear the action of man.
"Gandalf," Kili yelled, and Thorin looked to where his nephew's wide eyes were trained to see hundreds upon hundreds of goblins swarming down the crevice toward them. Thorin pushed himself to his feet and pulled her after him as he helped her out of the rubble from the bridge, seeing as she stood on her long legs his head went no higher than her breasts – and he might have grown flustered at the sight of them so close to his face had his own panic not been rising as the goblins drew ever near.
"There's too many, we can't fight them," Dwalin told the wizard panicking.
Even Gandalf felt fear curl in his heart at the sight of so many of them, knowing if they were slowed by anything they would be caught and killed; he looked at Dolraw as she sniffed the air and hurriedly crept forward, her skin now fur as she caught the scent of fresh air and followed it. "There's only one thing that will save us, daylight. Come on," he urged them, dragging a dwarf from beneath the bridge before pushing him after the lion.
Dolraw kept her head up as she breathed in the cool air, her ears flicking as the sound of the goblins grew louder the closer they came; Gandalf was right, they would be safe in the light – especially from these goblins, who had spent so long in the dark, it would burn them and frighten them and they would not follow the Company. But she knew the goblins were now the least of their concerns, for Azog knew exactly where Thorin was – and so too did he know where she was, without sign of her bear to protect her. And so she continued to race forward, almost considering the idea of fleeing down the mountains and leaving them all behind.
"Hurry, follow her," Thorin cried to the others.
And there it was, her reason to stay and fight for them; even though she had been dishonest with him Thorin was still willing to trust her. He was loyal to a fault, and underneath his hard façade he was kind and unbearably sad; and she had already proven she would fight for them. Knowing all he had faced, knowing all that had been taken from him, somewhere after they had left the Shire she had stopped being able to leave him. Out of all the people she had met, which did not amount to many, he was someone she would willingly fight beside, to fight for; and he so greatly deserved all he was trying to get back.
Which was why when sunlight suddenly blinded her eyes and freedom now laid out before her, she did not continue running; she stopped when the dwarves did and stood waiting for what they would do next, prepared to continue fighting for them.
Beorn had resumed laying down the roof, having sat by her side for an hour waiting for her to wake though she did little more than breathe softly. Winter would be upon them in only days, already the signs of the snow to come hanging in the air and clouding the sky; he needed to finish the roof, and soon – especially with her now wounded.
It was nearing dark when he was startled by the sound of her gasping, and he leapt down from the roof and knelt by her side as he smoothed back the hair from her brow. "I know," he said softly when she whimpered, wiping the tears as they leaked out of her eyes. "I know it hurts."
That was not an adequate enough word for the pain she felt, her entire left side was engulfed in flames - her arm limp and her hand unmoving feeling as though they had been ripped from her body. And her side, it literally felt as though someone was digging their fingers into her skin and tearing the flesh from her ribs, their other hand squeezing her lung leaving her gasping lightly as she tried to breathe. She'd have taken the whip, taken Azog mounting her; nothing could have been worse than lying crying in terrible pain.
It was only a few moments of sitting beside her trying to calm her, to soothe her so she might find peace in sleep, only for her to begin weeping; his bones had been broken before, the orcs had shown him terrible cruelty, and so he knew the awful ache and spasming in her arm, in her ribs – he could imagine the tightness in her chest as she tried to breathe, no way to escape the pain. He did not want to leave her, not after Azog had come so close, but he could not bear sitting beside her without a way to help her. "I will be as quick as I can," he swore to her, hearing her small no as she tried to plead with him to stay. He kissed her brow before standing, his skin giving way to fur and he left at a mad gallop for the dark wood knowing there must be some plant that would soothe her more than his words.
Several minutes he stood sniffing at the plants, not recognizing a single one of them and even worse not knowing if they would actually help. In his yearning to find something to help her he did not notice the soft, barely heard, sounds of someone behind him – did not know Azog had been spotted from within these very trees the day before. He did not know it until he heard the sound of wood creaking and a string pulling, and he turned as a man raising his hands in surrender to find an elf aiming their bow at him.
Dolraw stood facing the way they came having heard the sound of feet following them, and she stood staring directly at Bilbo without being able to see him; knowing it was their hobbit for she knew the sound of his breathing, and she caught his scent on the wind. What she could not understand was why he was hidden from her view, not knowing what magic he had found that he was capable of such sorcery.
Little Bilbo knew their lion was aware he was there, for she was staring straight at him – yet she did not move closer nor give him away, she stood waiting for him to join them. And so she was the only one among them entirely unsurprised when he suddenly appeared, she was far more curious as to know how he suddenly came into view though she did not speak; for another scent she caught on the wind, one she knew and feared. He was coming.
She stood at Bilbo's side pacing to and fro not listening to the words that were spoken. She would turn to look at the wizard, at Thorin, at any of them, and then turn back to the hill above them – yet they gave her no notice for they were listening to Bilbo's word as he told them why he had returned.
"Gandalf," she said standing as a woman, her eyes wide and her face pale – more fear than any of them thought her capable shining in her eyes. Though Bilbo stared up at her baffled at seeing a woman, one he had seen in a flash of lightening before she was a lion once more – but before any of them could question her they heard a chilling howl very near to them.
"Out of the frying pan," Thorin muttered realizing the orcs had finally caught them.
"And into the fire," Gandalf finished. "Run!"
Once more a lion she ran quickly, urging the others faster at the sound of the trees above them breaking, knowing they would quickly be overrun for the wargs were much faster than anyone on two legs. Her heart was fluttering much too fast for her to defend the dwarves, her head feeling light as fear overflowed in her veins – Beorn was too far, he would not come when she called, he would not find her for Azog would take her – he would be waiting for her to return, knowing within a few days something had gone amiss for she was already many days late.
They were brought up short at the edge of a cliff, staring down at the hundreds of feet below them and knowing there was now no way to escape. "Into the trees all of you," Gandalf ordered them. "Come on, climb."
Dolraw was only too glad to listen, digging her claws in the bark as she dragged herself up the nearest tree. When she finally settled on a branch she looked down to see all of the dwarves had done the same, Thorin at her side running a hand over her head realizing she had great reason to be so afraid orcs; and she had truly looked so terrified. Though there was one in their company who was still on the ground, Bilbo stood pulling his sword out of the warg's head and turned to find he was completely alone – and several wargs now racing for him with open jaws. There was simply not enough time to get him into the tree without a warg locking their jaws around his wee body, and so as a hand reached down and grabbed the hobbit the nearest warg lunged snarling for him.
The elf stared at the man with wide eyes, not understanding how it was possible for the bear to become a man; and she lowered her bow as she stepped back.
Beorn watched the red haired she elf retreat from him, seeing she was making to flee. "Please," he called after her, hearing the sound of her feet stilling as she waited. He chanced a step closer though she tightened her grip on the still notched bow in her hands, watching him warily – having never seen such a display of enchantment, not knowing what this half beast was only that it spoke the common tongue. "My," he paused as he thought of how to explain Dolraw, "wife has been hurt greatly. I need something for her." He did not trust this elf, he would rather kill her than make her aware there was an injured woman somewhere near – laying unable to move and entirely vulnerable, and he was left wishing he had never left her.
The elf held up a hand to him before walking back in the trees, stooping low to pluck different leaves off of plants before making her way back to the bear-man. She should not help him, she should loose her arrow and bring him to her king; but if his words were true then he greatly needed help, and she had caught sight of the many scars lining his body leaving her wondering what horrible place he had come from. "Take me to her," she ordered, seeing the refusal flare in his eyes. "You will not know what to do with the leaves and I cannot know what your wife needs without seeing her."
With great reluctance he nodded, honestly contemplating killing the she elf before taking her leaves and returning to Dolraw; but she was right in that he did not know what to do with the leaves, and so he was given little choice but to take the elf back to Dolraw.
The warg yelped at the claws that dragged down its face, saving Bilbo's legs from its terrible teeth, and the company stared down horrified at their lion now facing the wargs surrounding her. She snarled and hissed, batting at the wargs when they made to bite her, backing toward the edge of the cliff hoping she might find a way back into the tree, until three wargs circled around her keeping her from moving any further.
Her belly sank to the ground at the sound of a deep voice barking, knowing that voice almost as well as she knew her own; she sometimes still dreamt of him finding a way to take her from Beorn, returning her to her dark cell with his cold hands on her skin. He was the nightmare that plagued her, leaving her to wake with a start needing Beorn's arms around her to calm her drumming heart. And there Azog sat high and proud on his warg as they slowly came closer; his order having been that she was his and so the wargs had ceased their advances and turned to their master.
He stared down at his lion having never thought she would be so foolish as to leave her bear, for there was no escape for her without him. And he smiled savagely at the fear in her eyes, at knowing she still feared him enough to submit to him as she changed her skin; and he stared down darkly at the woman now on her knees gazing up at him.