AN: Well, just for a heads-up this is going to be a shorter chapter, but there will be another coming up in a couple of days (not a whole week I promise!). I'm realizing that more and more people prefer getting shorter updates every few days than waiting a longer period of time for a long chapter. If that's you, (or not) please tell me! I'll consider doing this more often.
~Ere Break of Day~
Chapter Ten – The Bear's Den
Why was it that he always got stuck with the worst jobs? Bilbo wanted to know.
He let out the breath he'd been holding after creeping back under the relative safety of the boulder. Not only was the orc pack still on their trail and gaining fast across the mountainside, but there was a large animal that was akin to a bear, but larger than even a warg. It was chasing the orcs and making a beeline for the forest ahead.
Bilbo returned to where the company waited at the base of the Carrock. Thorin was the first to spot him and stood straighter at the sight of the hobbit's alarm.
"Did they see you? Are they coming?" he asked quickly. The others stood up as well and looked at their burglar in anticipation of a chase soon to begin.
"No. No, they didn't, but—" said Bilbo, and they rest heaved sighs of relief. Thorin himself allowed a smile to grace his features as he shared a glance with the wizard.
"I knew it. None can best our hobbit," he said, to the agreement of the others.
"But wait—" Bilbo's plea was drowned out by Thorin's instruction of having a small rest before continuing their journey.
"Listen!" Bilbo exclaimed, surprising everyone into silence.
"There was something else there, on the mountain…" How could he put it? "It was a large creature—"
"Was it, by any chance," Gandalf cut in, his knowing eyes meeting the hobbit's, "a bear?"
"Well, yes, actually," said Bilbo, perturbed. "How did you know?"
"I thought as much…there is a house close by where we will find shelter, but we must leave now, and move quickly," he said, and instructed the dwarves to pick up what belongings they had. Thorin further directed the company by leading them down the grassy plains, picking up pace until they were racing through the forest. Kili had protested at such a pace until the howls of wargs and the battle cries of orcs could be heard not too far off.
This drove Aneira to keep running, though her body was beyond exhaustion as she stumbled over raised roots and was quickly falling behind. She could hear her heart pounding in her head while her bangs became plastered to her forehead and the sides of her face with sweat. When she tripped over a dip in the ground, Bofur yanked her up by her elbow and kept a firm hold on her upper arm, practically dragging her through the brush. After a while, the trees and branches were beginning to blur, and her chest was clenched so tightly with the lack of air flowing to her lungs that she thought her body would seize. Vaguely she heard growling and snarling behind them, which made the grip on her arm tighten and become more forceful.
Then there was a large tree just over a slope of green grass. Within it was the cabin, she was sure. It was peculiar, as the house was not separated from the tree, but nor was it a treehouse in the traditional sense. More of that the great elm was a part of the wooden logs and rope and mortar that made up the house, and the house part of it.
They were coming upon it at a sprinting pace. Its great door was partially open, to their luck as heavy galloping steps were not far behind them with the sound of a beast's roar, far larger and far more menacing than that of a warg in Aneira's opinion. She turned her head over her shoulder and caught a good look of what was behind them.
A bear far larger than any she had ever seen—its eyes wide and its jowls snarling with saliva and a full mouth of glistening teeth—pounded after them and kicked up grass and dirt in its wake.
For the first time since the eagles left them and the company began their tiring race, she became aware of herself and her immediate danger. With a jolt than ran up her spine and jumpstarted her brain, she used every iota of energy left within her to propel herself forward with the rest of the dwarves through the door and into the cabin.
Unfortunately, she stumbled over the wooden floorboards and landed into a pile of hay, falling in a heap of limbs she could no longer feel. Aneira watched as the dwarves held the door shut and yelled and shouted at one another while they met the creature's resistance from the other side. Eventually they managed to set a plank over the door, effectively locking it, and one by one they dropped into the hay just as overly spent as she was. Her breaths were coming out in labored gasps, but it was becoming easier to breathe when she simply concentrated on easing air into her stinging lungs.
She managed to turn her head when her name was uttered, and she met Kili's tired brown eyes.
"We made it," he said, panting while he lay on his side. She smiled even as her eyes closed.
Aneira woke to rays of golden light hitting her square in the eyes.
"Ughh…" She immediately closed them.
"My sentiments exactly."
A sigh escaped her, but she refused to open her eyes again.
"I suppose it's morning," she said, and rolled over away from what could only be an open window. She begrudgingly opened her eyes and found Bofur, looking a little unkempt, but far less dirty than she felt, and much more awake as he sat leaning against a wooden beam. She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, ran a hand through her wild hair and tried in vain to shake the strands of hay out of it.
For the first time, she really took in her surroundings.
It seemed to be a stable of sorts, with horses and cattle happily eating and drinking water from their respective troughs. The floor was covered in dirt and hay, but this stopped a little ways ahead where the wooden floor was spotless further into the house.
"It is," said Bofur. He leaned off the beam to stand. "You are the last one to wake. Our host has just finished preparing breakfast for us."
"Thank you, by the way. If it hadn't been for you," she said, and looked down, avoiding his gaze. "I would be…well, I wouldn't be here."
In hindsight, Bofur was consistent in making sure she kept up with the group, even dragging her the rest of the way if necessary. She was grateful to him, though sorry that she probably could have gotten him killed for having to help her.
Booted steps came nearer, but Aneira didn't look up until she felt a hand tousle the hair on her head—a gesture meant to be comforting when she saw the fond look in his smiling eyes that crinkled in the corners.
It reminded her so much of her father that she could only gaze up with wide eyes, slightly breathless.
"It's all right now, little one. I'll only be gone for a few days at most," Anian soothed, wiping the tears from his daughter's small face. Still, she sniffled and looked up at him with miserable eyes. He gave her a comforting smile and sat her upon his lap where he sat on the ground.
"I was planning on giving you this for your birthday, but I think you'll like it just as much now."
Out of his coat pocket, he pulled out a leather parcel tied with string. He offered it to her, and hesitantly she took it out of his waiting hands. She untied the frayed strands and carefully pulled out a necklace of silver, shining in the morning light that filtered through a window. The pearls were clear and beautiful, and they captured her awe-stricken expression.
"I made this for you when you were born, so that you will remember," he said. With eyes still glistening, she looked up at her father's tender gaze.
"Remember what?" she asked in a small voice.
"That as precious as silver and pearls are, my Aneira, you are more," He gently took the gift from her and placed it over her head to rest around her neck. He tapped at the carved symbol that lay upon her chest. "And this, to remember who you are."
Anian did not further explain his words, but he stood, easing Aneira to the ground to stand by herself. Before walking out the door, he paused to briefly touch her cheek, then kiss the top of her head before ruffling her hair affectionately. When he smiled, it spread to his eyes that wrinkled in the corners; lines that were permanently etched into a face that had creased often, whether from sadness or joy.
"I won't be long."
"Never mind that, lassie. Can't have you coming back to your mum in pieces, can we?" he said, making her smile at last.
He offered her a hand to help her stand, which she took gratefully and asked, "and who is our humble host?"
"Now that everyone has been properly introduced to you, Beorn, it is far overdue that we give our thanks for housing us," said Gandalf.
The man inclined his head, but from what Aneira observed, he was no man. This was a beast.
His eyes were of no man she had ever met, large and piercing and that of an animal—taking in everything at once yet focused on the smallest detail. His dark hair was wilder than hers, falling over his shoulders so thick that she didn't know where his beard ended or began. It was more like fur than hair. Even his teeth appeared as sharp as his stare, while his nails were more akin to claws.
Beorn was also tall. And not just compared to her diminutive stature. He surpassed Gandalf's height by at least half a foot.
"Your…story interests me," he replied. His voice was a slow rumble, the rustle of trees when shaken by the wind, but also so deep it could have penetrated the floorboards (or at least in Aneira's imagination).
For once, the dwarves ate quietly, but mostly happily after a little more than half a night's rest. Thorin and Gandalf and Balin talked with Beorn while the rest of the company talked amongst themselves. Aneira pushed the remains of her meal around her plate while she traded words with Bilbo.
"I wonder how long we will be staying this time," she said softly, not wanting their…host, to hear.
"Preferably not long…there are bees in here, Aneira. Have you seen them?" Bilbo asked. As he spoke his eyes drifted away from her face at the thought, up above him and to the side with his fork poised in his hand. "If one was to sting me, I should swell up as big as this house."
Aneira restrained a laugh at his melodrama.
"Will you spear them to death?" she joked. Bilbo smiled good-naturedly, though he gave the large man at the far end of the table a cursory glance.
"Not while he's watching," he mumbled. And when she raised a brow in question, "You were asleep when Gandalf explained a few things."
"So, who and where is the master of this house you mentioned, Gandalf?" asked Thorin, once the dwarves were situated within the great house. It was spacious and obviously built for someone large, and someone quite at home with nature.
"He can be appalling when he is angry, though he is kind enough…if humored," began the wizard with a small, slightly nervous chuckle. "His name is Beorn. He is a skin-changer, known to protect these parts of the forest in the form you recently saw him in. No doubt that is why he chased us, but we have nothing to fear. He will return in the morning, I believe."
A skin-changer? That could not be right, Bilbo thought to himself. He had read something of them before, he believed, that Beorn's kind (if he in fact was a skin-changer) were thought to have descended from the great and ancient bears of the mountains that lived there before the creatures that now inhabit it—giants and goblins and orcs.
"Are you sure he isn't under some sort of enchantment?" Dwalin said, a suspicion read clearly in his expression. A curse was more what he meant. Gandalf turned a critical eye upon the dwarf.
"He is under no enchantment but his own," Gandalf said sternly. Bilbo couldn't help but be the least bit disconcerted. This man sounded in no way safe or to be trusted, yet Gandalf was ready to wait all night in this house that smelled of horse and dirt and their already less than pleasant grime from the past few days of nonstop peril.
The hobbit sighed and resigned himself to a spot in the hay not far from Aneira and the two young heirs of Durin. While Aneira was lost to slumber already, Fili and Kili talked quietly with one another over something even Bilbo's perceptive ears could not hear. Sleep was warm and welcoming and fast to overtake him.
"Well," said Aneira. "That makes sense, I suppose."
"Were you expecting something else?" he asked. From her expression, she seemed reserved on her judgment of their host, but there was wariness in her gaze that he didn't miss.
"No, it's not that…it really does make sense, it's just…he was a creature. Even as a man, he still appears as one," she said. "Can we really trust him?"
It took him a moment to answer, but after taking another bite of a buttered roll he glanced over at Gandalf.
"We'll just have to rely on his judgment," said Bilbo. "He hasn't been wrong before now."
The image of razor-like teeth snarling down upon her came to mind, but she pushed the thought away with a shiver.
"Perhaps."