After a time, the company came to a daunting wooden gate amidst a thorn-hedge so thick one could not see the light on the other side. I lifted myself off the ground by a steady jet of air to peer over the thicket of thorns. Inside the perimeter, I saw a garden and a group of peculiar buildings.
"Lyra! Get down!" Gandald chided, huffing in irritation as he tugged on my ankle.
I dropped down with a smug grin before I took a seat on a nearby boulder. "Only because you didn't think of it first," I remarked softly in good nature.
"You had better wait here," Gandalf advised the dwarves, "Come in pairs at my whistle with five minutes between each pair. Come, Mr. Baggins and Lyra!" He motioned for us to fall in step with him with an impatient jerk of his staff. Bilbo and I followed Gandalf into a courtyard where we came across some magnificent ponies. The animals looked at us intently before they galloped to the great house. "They have gone to tell him of the arrival of strangers," Gandalf explained at my perplexed expression.
I could sense the skin-changer in the earth before I physically saw him. He was formidable, and I could easily picture him as a hulking earthbender. Beorn was a huge man with a thick, black beard and hair; he wore a wool tunic that left his massive arms and legs- both knotted with muscle- bare.
"They don't look dangerous! You can be off!" the skin-changer laughed as he was leaning on a large axe. He set his axe aside and came up to tower above the three of us. When his eyes fell upon me, I did my best to seem undaunted by squaring my shoulders and meeting his gaze as level as I could. A light smirk quirked the corner of his lips in his amusement at my action before he looked warily at Gandalf. "Who are you, and what do you want?" he demanded.
"I am Gandalf," the wizard answered simply.
"Never heard of him- and what's this little fellow?"
"That is Master Baggins, a hobbit of good family and unimpeachable reputation." Gandalf supplied in the disconcerted Bilbo's stead.
"What about the woman?"
"I am Lyra of the Earth Kingdom," I answered smoothly, and then added fondly, "You might also remember me as the little girl you would tell stories to, and who you taught to ride a horse…you would give me honeycomb to suck on…"
"Are you indeed? Still a small thing if you are who you claim to be," Beorn chuckled faintly, "And she was such an imp of a girl last she came…can't quite recall how long ago that was…" His eyes twinkled just so until he once again returned his attention to Gandalf. "Now I know who you three are, or who you say you are. What do you want?"
Gandalf began the tale of our journey, making sure to mention our latest encounter with the goblins of the Misty Mountains. I breathed in the heady air and felt the vibrations of various animals Beorn cared for. My brow furrowed at the fumbling steps of a clearly wounded foal; I looked around at those who had joined us whilst Gandalf continued to regale Beorn. I silently made my departure, and went in search of the foal. I passed Beorn's bee hives with great care, hyperaware of the ceaseless work of the drones. I followed the erratic vibrations through the thick grove of trees, and found the foal stumbling through the thicket. At my arrival, the youngling wheeled about and let out a shrill cry as it eyed me warily.
"Easy, easy," I cooed warmly, and ceased my approach. I saw the cause of the foal's injury- it was a large thorn, from the hedge marking the boundary of Beorn's home, deeply embedded in the flank. Every jerking movement caused the foal further pain, which in turn set the babe even more on edge.
I slowly knelt on the ground, open hands resting on my thighs, and waited. Whilst I did, I went through the breathing exercises Ephraim had taught me what felt like a lifetime ago, my steady exhales marking the otherwise calm air. In order to lead another, one must first guide themself; that was what Beorn had told me at the beginning of my riding lessons. The foal began to mimic my breathing, and began to calm down in turn. I took the opportunity to meditate and open my chakras to the small piece of the world around me; I rustled with the wind-stirred grass, I flew with the humming bees. I was drawn away from my pastoral synchronisation by the brushing of a velvety, slightly whiskered muzzle on my brow. I opened my eyes to calmly meet the foal's, and smiled at the tranquil shade of amber the aforementioned possessed. "Hello again," I whispered, and nudged my head against the inquisitive muzzled still ghosting across my face.
The foal snorted as I rose to my feet, but did not draw away. I chuckled to myself at the insatiable curiosity that sparked in those amber eyes- for I had the same desire as a child. The foal limped closer to me, and bumped its head against my arm. I briefly threaded my fingers through its short mane, and combed along the expanse of neck.
"Let's fix that leg, shall we?" I mused warmly, an examined the embedded thorn. It would be less stressful on the foal if I were to remove the large obtrusion by water- for a more, painless extraction. I summoned water slowly from the nearby pool, and then molded the water over the affected area. "Sh sh, easy," I cooed when the foal nickered nervously and sidled away, "I am going to make it better, little one, I promise," I drew my hand back, bringing my fingers together to form a steeple over my palm. The thorn dislodged itself from the foal's leg, and I quickly wiled the water to heal the open wound. The foal bobbed its head nervously, but stilled when I placed a tender hand on its nose. The steady crash of warm air against my palm sent tingling jolts up the length of my arm, and I rubbed my face into the foal's downy coat.
"There, almost finished," I murmured, and watched at the wound sealed shut. I banished the water, and laughed heartily at the foal as it took off in a prancing trot. "See, little one? Good as new!" I called after the frolicking foal.
"That one!" Beorn boomed, thoroughly startling me, "That little person, I know- little Lyra. If she is part of your company, Oakenshield, I welcome you into my home!"
"Well done, my dear," Gandalf mused wryly, as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder.
"But, Gandalf…" I sighed, "Oh never mind."
I sat next to Thorin and Bofur at the dinner table, fascinated by the ability Beorn's animals had to serve us our meal. The skin-changer sat at the head of the table, and watched me idly from over the lip of his goblet.
"Don't worry yourself, lass," Balin assured me from across the table, "I think Beorn is fascinated by your remarkable affinity- as we all are, really."
I gave him a grateful smile, and then resumed tucking into my supper. The meal was one we all had not had since we departed from Rivendell; the torchlight danced across all our faces, and the sight of the flame-lit faces of my friends caused me to stiffen.
"Lyra?" Thorin murmured, eyes narrowed.
"I'm fine," I lied hastily, and dropped my gaze to my clammy, clenched hands on my lap.
"What troubles you?" the dwarf prince insisted.
"A memory- that is all," I dismissed.
