The elf kept her distance as they walked, the leaves put away and her bow in hand should he become a bear once more. As closely as she watched him, he watched her; he would not lead this elf to Dolraw only for her to kill her. And Dolraw was already so weak, so hurt that she would have no means of defense - she was utterly vulnerable, and he regretted once more ever leaving her side.

"How was she hurt?" she asked him, looking up at his unkind face awaiting his response. Though his only answer was a hard look and the baring of his teeth. "You could be taking me to a woman looking for her next meal," she told him, her words proving she did not trust him.

"I could be taking you to a woman who cannot arm herself," he replied bitterly.

Her eyes once more found their way to his back where scars of a whip lined his skin, and she realized if he were telling the truth in his wife being hurt then he was being forced to trust that a person he did not know meant her no harm. "Is she the lion?" she asked, meeting his wary eyes. "You both were spotted walking along our boarders many days previous." She had been patrolling when she caught sight of them, staring at the two through the trees as they walked together - such a strange sight they were, a bear and his lion, though she had seen him nuzzle her fondly, seen the lion lick his face in return. At the memory of the animals who were so clearly devoted to one another, she did not believe harm would fall her; it was then, staring at the human face of the bear and seeing his worry, she realized that the lion truly was hurt for he would not risk leading an elf to her. "How was she hurt?" she asked again, her voice gentle and her eyes less hard.

He looked at the she elf closely, the sense of threat ebbing away as she continued to walk beside him. "An orc," he answered finally.

"You were running from him," she said, having first thought they had been hunting. "Do you believe he may return?"

Beorn shook his head, the line of trees their house was behind coming into view and he watched her out of the corner of his eye as they drew ever closer. "Azog is many things but he is not stupid." And he truly believed Azog would not dare return, not when Beorn was alive and well with rage burrowed in his heart at what he had done to Dolraw.

She almost smiled at his words. "He would not return when you are so fit to tear him apart," she finished. Without meeting his lion she knew he loved her greatly, and she only had to draw to mind the tender way in which the lion had licked his face to know she loved him as well.

Beorn looked down at her giving a short laugh before he quieted and stepped through the trees. He strained his ears listening for any sound, stepping in front of the elf at a branch snapping before he saw the small animal that had done it.

She followed after his quick strides as he returned to the lion, eager to see to her wellbeing; he had almost been afraid he would return to her screaming, though he found her laying quietly as she shivered, her mind drifting in out of consciousness on the waves of pain. "Dolraw," he said softly, kneeling beside her as he smoothed the hair from her sweaty brow.

With furrowed brows she turned to him slowly, her head falling to the side as she blinked once before falling once more unconscious. He turned from her only when he heard the sounds of the she elf outside and he moved to the door to find her searching through the pile of things Dolraw had pilfered from the camp. "What are you doing?" he asked her, not liking that she was now aware of the place they called home.

"She needs to drink it," she said finding a kettle, having heard the woman's breathing and knowing from the soft wheezing that her ribs were broken.

Beorn watched her build a fire, guarding the way into the home until the elf stepped before with a hard look and a small wooden cup Dolraw had carved. "It would be better for her to take this now when she already sleeping, she would sit in agony waiting for sleep to come to her if you make her wait."

With great reluctance he stepped aside and allowed her through, watching her eyes widen when she saw Dolraw; her arm and side were blackened from where she had been struck by Azog's mace, her breathing deep and wheezing. She knelt beside the woman and looked up at the bear waiting for him to hold her up so she could pour the crushed leaves down her throat in the form of tea. "Shh, I know," he soothed Dolraw when she whimpered at him moving her, and he waited as she slowly drank the earthy water before settling her back down and covering her.

The elf watched as he soothed her into a troubled sleep, not leaving her side or even taking his eyes off her until she stilled. "These are for sleep," she said holding up a leaf, "these are for the pain, and these are for healing. For a few days you should make her sleep, it will be easier for her. Make her drink every meal, and if the pain is too much give her more. After a week only give her these leaves," she said holding up the ones for sleep, "at night. Within a month she should be on her feet, but she will still need to rest."

Beorn looked up and nodded before turning back to Dolraw, staring at her intently as though he could see inside her mind to hear if she was swimming in numb peace. When next he looked up the elf was gone and the leaves on the floor beside them.

He did as told and let her sleep, returning to the roof to finish it – stopping only at noon to pour the tea in her mouth, and then again when the sun set. Her soft whimper woke him early in the morn and he gave her the last of the leaves, stepping outside to go gather more only to find a pile of them before the door.


Dolraw stayed her place on her knees before Azog, her heart beating hard enough to break out of her chest – it might have, if Azog had not taken his eyes from her face and looked to Thorin. She felt the wargs at her back, sniffing her curiously as they recognized her scent, though she did not take her eyes from Azog, remembering how great the pain she felt when last he'd caught her with his mace.

One word he spoke did she know, kill – it was a command he had given her more times than she could bear to remember. The wargs swarmed around her, leaping over her or running past her close enough their fur brushed her arm; the sound of trees breaking and crashing to the ground met her ears, of the dwarves yelling in fear as the wargs leapt for them in a mad fervor, and still she did not turn. The moment she turned her back on him, the very second her eyes shifted showing she was considering running, Azog would lunge for her and they both knew he would catch her; whether by hand or by mace, he did not care if she were broken, pain is what he wished to give her.

It was not a yell, it was not Azog moving first, it was not even a sound that had her turning, it was the smell of fire. She realized the moment she smelled smoke what Gandalf had done, he was buying them all precious time, and while Azog's eyes were on the others she changed skins and charged for the last remaining tree; moving around the wargs as they timidly inched back from the flames paying her little mind, leaping over the wall of fire they had created and sinking her claws into the bark. Though it would hurt she retracted her claws and pushed herself higher before hanging once more by them, finding herself in reach of a hand held out for her. If not for little Bilbo holding onto him, Fili might have fallen when Dolraw grabbed his hand – her long body nearly the length of Gandalf's. But he pulled her onto the branch where she sat breathing heavily as she looked to Azog, seeing his enraged eyes at her having escaped him again. Though her mind was stolen from the small hope that she might return home after all when the tree began to shake, groaning as the roots dislodged from the soil and they began to fall.

She had not realized they were cornered at the edge of the cliff, not until she was left as a lion dangling from the tree over open air. Once more she was faced with death, for already her claws were dragging down the bark; if her end was here, at the base of the Mountain, Beorn would find her – he would come looking for her and discover her broken and lifeless, she could hear him scream as he fell to his knees taking her in his arms. Death was not an option, she could not leave him.

Her efforts were in vain, for the moment she tried to gain footing with her back paw she would slip further down the tree – and then Thorin got to his feet and charged toward Azog, his movements jostling her further down the bark as she looked after him – losing him behind the wall of flame. But she heard him cry out, heard Azog's roar of immense pleasure and knew Thorin had lost. It had all been for nothing; she was too low on the tree, unable to pull herself up without losing her balance or her hold on the tree, dangling by the tips of her claws as they tore through the bark bringing her ever near the end. Until finally the bark of the tree could hold her no longer and she slipped away, falling into the night.

The moment she felt soft feathers against her fur she changed her skin, turning on her belly to find that she was on a large eagle – and he craned his neck to give her a look, letting her know he was not pleased to be carrying a lion. Though he flew her all the same, for they had been called most urgently to aid; he was not pleased, in fact he was very wary of the woman who had been a lion when she first fell, but he carried her to the Carrock all the same. And as the sun painted the sky pink and orange he let her down on the familiar rock before lifting off into the sky; leaving her staring in the direction of her and Beorn's wood, seeing the line of trees that hid their home. She was almost there, almost home; she was so close now she could almost smell him on the morning air.


And you all were afraid something was going to happen to her :D but no really, if anything happened to her before they reached her house Beorn would kill them. Also, next chapter will be the last with the flashbacks because I will pretty much be caught up to the present.