Chapter 29
Grimbeorn the Old
19 March T.A. 3019
Arestel slept soundly atop Gareth's back. She was tucked under Thorin's fur coat, and Gareth could feel his passenger snuggling into it. He slowed down his pace, careful not to wake nor drop her. They had been flying over night and tonight was a very cold one indeed. The Misty Mountains loomed up ahead but it would still take them quite a while to cross it. To make matters worse, Gareth's wound from his fight against the Ringwraiths had not yet subsided. The new wound which was given to him two days ago was not completely healed. Lady Galadriel's power was not enough to make it fade. And it was too soon for Gareth to move too much. If it had not been for Arestel, he could have gotten his rest by now.
Gareth gritted his teeth and looked down to his shoulder. The wound was open and it slowly exuded his fresh blood. He cringed and looked ahead. He felt cold; his wound was freezing against the chilly winds of the mountains. He searched desperately for a place to rest but he felt something light behind his back. He remembered Arestel, curled up under the coat and shivering lightly. He shook his head and flapped his wings. All of a sudden, Arestel sat up and rubbed her eyes and yawned.
"Are we home yet?" the girl inquired with sleepy eyes.
Gareth replied with an unusual soft voice, "Not yet, Estel. Get more rest. We'll get there in the morning."
She yawned again. "Okay if you say so." She closed her eyes and flopped back on her previous position, pulling the coat closer to her. As she drifted off to sleep again, Gareth's wound cracked up again so painful that it made him roar very loud. Arestel jolted up and yelped. "What is it?"
"Nothing," Gareth's quick answer came. He clamped his mouth shut to keep himself from further wincing. Arestel narrowed her eyes and peeked on his head but there was nothing out of order. She decided to look more sideways until her eyes caught a strange-looking patch on her friend's right shoulder. Blood slowly trickled down from his wound and she could tell that the cold winds were making it harder for Gareth.
"We need to stop," Arestel whispered. Gareth paid her no attention. She tapped on his neck and said louder, "We need to stop! You need rest. Can't you see your wound? It's terrible!"
"I can manage." Gareth's vision blurred and his breathing became heavy. The pain was getting the better of him and he couldn't hold on much longer. Ever so slowly, his eyes began to close and his wings began to stop.
"You listen to me now, Gareth, or we'll—"
Her statement was cut short. Gareth had collapsed in midair and they were both falling. Arestel could feel herself panicking. She held on to one of Gareth's bony plates on his back and kept the fur coat close. She pulled herself near to his ear and began yelling words. She yelled in Elvish, exclaimed in Westron, and finally cursing again in Elvish. Her friend was unconscious. No, he was dying. Arestel watched in horror as the ground came into her view faster than she expected. She closed her eyes tightly and braced herself for the impact.
Gareth crashed on the river. He was so big that the water in the river almost poured out. As the dragon slowly sank in the water, Arestel could feel his weight pushing down on her. She swam as quickly as she could, praying to Iluvatar that her would not get drowned under Gareth's weight. She held her breath and swam her way towards the shore. The fur coat in her hand was now heavy with water and she let it fall on the ground. She ran for Gareth whose head was on the shore while the rest of his body and legs were in the river.
"Gareth?!" Arestel called out to him. She tapped and caressed his muzzle. "Gareth, can you hear me?!" No answer. She went into the water and checked out on his wound. The wound sank into the water with the rest of his body. She cursed once more and went back to Gareth. "Can you hear me?! Gareth!" Now she was surely panicking. Her friend's life was in danger; they were in the middle of nowhere; and anytime soon, enemies could have heard the crash and go after them. It would be difficult to protect Gareth and herself at the same time.
Arestel went back the shore and picked up Thorin's fur coat. She rinsed it and due to being heavy, her energy was drained. Her Orcrist was soaked too, and she used some leaves to dry it off. After that she began drying herself. However, she couldn't remove her clothes and it was a nuisance. Arestel sighed exasperatedly and groaned to herself. She wore a traditional tunic and jerkin which she acquired previously in Mirkwood, leggings and a pair of heavy black boots. They soaked clothes were weighing her down but she could still not remove it. She looked back to Gareth who still lay motionless on the shore.
Then, the trees on the other side of the river moved. Arestel stood up slowly and narrowed her eyes; her gaze affixed on the trees and Orcrist on hand. She glanced down to it but the sword didn't glow blue. Heavy footsteps came next. It sounded like thunder and this thunder was heading towards their direction. Arestel stepped forward until her feet were sunk into the water; Orcrist pointed bravely in front of her.
"I do not take strangers lightly," she warned. Unfortunately, this daughter of Elrond could not deliver a single threat properly.
The stranger closed in even more. He gave out a roar which made Arestel suspicious. His dark figured emerged slowly from the line of trees as quiet as the night. Arestel couldn't see what the man looked like for the other side of the river was very dark. She could only see the dark figure in front of her slowly going down into his knees and then it seemed like his shape had changed. Arestel's eyes widened when a creature with dark brown pelt bellowed and charged towards her.
Arestel felt an urge to run away but she had to stand her ground for Gareth. She braced herself as the creature lunged itself towards her; its fangs ready to crush her bones. Arestel leaned back and held Orcrist tightly but the creature was trying to take it away from her. They both fell on the shallow waters with the creature on top of her. It bellowed once more and pounded Arestel with its large and heavy paws. Arestel gritted her teeth as she reversed Orcrist so that its hilt would point to the creature. With a strong force she charged the hilt of Orcrist on her attacker's chin, forcing it to yelp in pain and back away. She scrambled into her feet and tackled the creature back to the water. Now that the tables were turned, Arestel held Orcrist above the enemy and was about to slit its throat when it roared again and attempted to bite her arm. She recoiled and was thrown off the creature's body. She stood up and held Orcrist with two hands. The dark creature stood on its hind legs and towered over her. The moon's light penetrated through the clouds which showed the creature's appearance.
"Beorn?" Arestel breathed, slowly lowering Orcrist. She looked at the man in bewilderment. "Is that really you?"
The creature moved down in all fours and seemed to be staring at her intently. Its dark eyes widened and the creature slowly shifted into another form. In a few seconds the creature was back into a man with grey hair yet with a tall, heavy build. He stepped forward to Arestel and leaned down to look at her face.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" the man amused himself at the sight of her. She gave him an awkward nod as if acknowledging her own presence. The man looked grim and passed through her. She blinked and followed him back on the shore.
"Um, do we know each other?" She hoped not. The newcomer was intimidating.
"This is not your first time to see a shape shifter?" the man asked. She shook her head no. "If not, then I am Grimbeorn the Old as some people call me, the son of Beorn." The smile slowly came flashed in features. "Surely you know my father, young Elf."
Arestel smiled widely and refrained herself from embracing the large man in front of her. "I know Beorn," she beamed. "He is my friend."
Grimbeorn nodded. "A silver-haired elf you are. Then you must be Arestel."
"How did you know?" She cocked her head to the side.
Grimbeorn shook his head. "My father told me all about you. I did not expect your arrival here, Lady Arestel."
Upon mentioning that, she ran towards Gareth and caressed his muzzle. He moaned quietly and his breathing was still heavy. Her beaming expression was turned into a worried one. She gently ran her hand on Gareth's muzzle and leaned her head near his eyes. She heard Grimbeorn coming towards them with a questioning look.
"He is injured," she said, not taking her eyes off Gareth's face. "He had been pushing himself for days when he has a very terrible wound. We crashed into the river and now he's not responding." Her tears welled up in her eyes but she refused to cry. She looked up to Grimbeorn and said, "Will you help us? He really needs medical attention."
"I will," Grimbeorn quickly replied. "But first things first. We need to get back in my house to get you dry clothes. I have acquaintances to help your dragon friend here so don't worry."
"I can't leave him," Arestel insisted.
"Things will take longer if you protest," Grimbeorn replied sternly.
She heaved a sigh and nodded. She picked up the fur coat and followed Grimbeorn as he led the way into the other side of the river. Before they could fully disappear, she looked back to Gareth and whispered, "I will be back, Gareth. Hold on."
"Watch your step," Grimbeorn warned her quietly as they reached the gates.
Beorn's Hall, as Arestel remembered how it was called before, was surrounded by oak trees and an inner thorny hedge with a high wooden gate. Within the hedge were rows of bee-hives. There was a large garden in front of the entrance and a stony pathway leading to the hall's main entrance. Grimbeorn kindly assisted Arestel as she took her steps. He opened the large wooden door for her and gestured her for to come in. Arestel did what she was told and took her time to scan the place.
The Hall looked the same like it was before: there were two wings and a dark door that led into the fireplace in the middle. Grimbeorn led her there and she sat as he set up the fire. The roof above was open to let the smoke out. Not too far from the fireplace was a wooden long table with wooden circular chairs; chairs on each side of the tables. Arestel sighed and placed her fur coat down beside her. Grimbeorn emerged from another room, holding a dark green tabard with a white dress underneath. He handled her a short rope to tie the clothes together.
"Thank you," Arestel whispered as she received the things. Grimbeorn nodded at her and went out again. She quickly stood up and removed her soaked clothes, replacing them with the ones offered by Grimbeorn.
The raiment was quite loose and long, given her petite build, but it suited her just fine. The rope held her clothes together but it made moving difficult for her. The sleeves were long; the skirt was long. She removed her boots and went barefooted in Beorn's Hall. Her once soaked hair was now dry and she wore it in a loose side braid. After that, she rinsed her clothes again and hanged them by the window. By then, Grimbeorn arrived again with a pot on one hand and a tray of water and cups on the other.
"How is the dress?" he asked her. He settled the pot and tray on the nearby table and sprawled out the things. Arestel watched him do it with hands behind her back, and she smiled at him. Grimbeorn returned the favor and sat on one of the chairs. "You must be hungry, I trust?"
Arestel laughed and took a seat in front of him. "I'm going to dig in," she said. The large man in front of her laughed out loud and shook his head. Then he proceeded to take out some bread and laid honey inside it. He handed two breads over to Arestel and she took it with a smile. "Mmmm, this ish good," she said through mouthful and then took another bite. "We don't have honey like this in Rivendell."
"Well, of course," Grimbeorn chuckled and took a bite on his bread. "The honey came from our place's bee hives. That's why its taste is uncanny to strangers." He poured water into their cups and handed one to her. "Come on," he said. "Eat and drink more! I've never had any visitors before!"
"Don't mind if I do," Arestel said and drank from her cup.
The rest of the night was full of conversations between the man and the elf. Grimbeorn asked nonstop about news in the West and Arestel gladly told him about the tidings in Rivendell. She told him about the Fellowship and their quest; she told him about their battle in Helm's Deep, and about the assault in Lórien. Hearing this, Grimbeorn was suddenly angered as he greatly hated the Orcs of the Misty Mountains and that of Dol Guldur. Arestel also gave him news about the fall of Dale and Erebor, and the passing of their Kings, Brand and Daín Ironfoot.
"And now Gareth is injured," she ended her tale with a deep sigh. Grimbeorn looked at he with his eyebrows furrowed. "I must return soon to Lórien and have him healed by Lady Galadriel. Only she can tend to his wounds." She pounded her cup on the table and stood up abruptly. "I will return to Gareth," she announced. "I cannot delay any longer!"
Arestel went for the nearest doorway in which they used to enter but Grimbeorn immediately blocked the pathway. She blinked at his sudden action but nonetheless, tried to fight her way through him.
"What are you doing?" she finally asked when Grimbeorn remained blocking her way.
"There is no need to worry now," he said gently. "The night is waning and soon the day will come. Get some rest. Your friend will be fine in the river. I've sent my dogs to watch over him. We'll tend your friend's wounds first thing in the morning."
She couldn't believe that she was hearing. "Dogs, you say?" she repeated; Grimbeorn nodded. A small smile came to her lips and she became passive. "I remember that Beorn used to have dogs before," she continued. "Are they the same type of dogs? Capable of language?"
Grimbeorn nodded. "Yes, they are smart creatures. I am sure your friend is safe with them." He stepped away from the door and gestured for her to follow him. "Come," he said. "I'll show you in your room." Arestel quickly complied and followed him but the doubt never left her heart. She took Orcrist from the table and held it tight until they reached the room.
He opened the door and there was a platform bed inside. Everything was made of wood, even the small bedside table. The bed was covered by a peach-colored sheet which seemed to serve as the blanket. There were two pillows as well. On the eastern corner of the room was an open window which overlooked Grimbeorn's interior garden. The wood creaked as she entered but it looked extremely cozy.
"I like it," Arestel whispered before Grimbeorn could even ask her. She turned to him and said, "Thank you for your hospitality, Grimbeorn. I am truly grateful."
He smiled and nodded. "Of course. I'll see to it that you are comfortable, Lady Arestel. Now, get some rest." With that he shut the door quietly and his heavy footfalls slowly faded.
Arestel placed Orcrist on the bedside table and lay on the bed. It was surprisingly soft and quite warm. She curled under the blanket and sighed in contentment. "Good night, Gareth." And yearning for someone's voice, she added, "Good night, Legolas."
A few minutes later, a voice answered her.
"Good night, Estel. Sleep well, beloved. I shall see you soon."
She woke up late the next morning. At first there was a sound of a soft whimper beside her but she ignored it. Her senses kicked it when she suddenly remembered Gareth. The blanket was abruptly thrown away as she scrambled into her feet. She quickly tied her hair back and grabbed her sword. She ran towards the fireplace but Grimbeorn was not there, only a large grey dog.
Arestel looked at it in confusion but she knew who it was. It was one of Grimbeorn's dogs. It stared back at her silently while its tail moved to and fro slowly. She shifted her gaze on the table and was surprised to see bread and water prepared on the table. There was a note there, written in big Westron symbols saying, "Your breakfast. Meet me in the river. My friend will guide you there." She blinked again and looked back at the dog. It seemed to understand the situation as if whimpered again and pointed its muzzle on the food.
"…O-kay," she awkwardly drawled, very unsure how to react. The dog barked and ran towards the door. When it noticed that she was not following, it barked again. Arestel took the bread and ran after the dog.
They ran across the forest for a while. Her loose dress was difficult for her and she had to refrain herself for actually ripping the long skirt off. After a few more struggles, they reached the edge of the river. Gareth's golden-scaled body came into view. The sun's light made the river glow ever more. It was hard to fix one's gaze on the water while crossing. Arestel held up her skirt while she was guided by the grey dog. Upon reaching the other side, four more large dogs ran towards them. She noticed how these dogs seemed to communicate with each other. She followed them as they ran again, and towards Grimbeorn who was indeed tending to Gareth's wounds like he promised.
He sat on the shore with some sort of tools sprawled out on the ground. Arestel narrowed her eyes as she noticed that Gareth's body seemed to have been adjusted. Last night his wound was underwater but today, the wound was already ashore, and Grimbeorn was tending into it. He looked up to her for a second and then went back into his business.
"Morning," he greeted her while soaking some herbs into a lukewarm water. Arestel knelt in front of him. He glanced at her again and continued, "Athelas, you Elves call this, but I like the term Kingsfoil better." Then he chuckled. "Quite a useful plant, don't you think?"
She nodded. "Yes, my Father grows them in my mother's garden." She shifted her gaze to Gareth and pointed towards him. "How is he doing?"
Grimbeorn shrugged. "Earlier this morning he was moaning. But then I patched some athelas on his wound and now he is purring. Must have eased the pain, I must say."
"Oh, thank goodness," Arestel sighed in relief. She stood up and went to caress his muzzle like she always did in hopes of comforting him. Upon contact she heard Gareth purr and his breathing became slower. She could feel him forcing himself to move but she dismissed it. "Hush," she whispered near his ear. "We're here, Gareth. Beorn's son is helping us. Don't worry; you'll be fine."
It was as if he heard her that Gareth actually sighed. Arestel smiled and patted his nose. She turned around to take a look at his wound. The blood was already dry and there were patches of athelas stuck on the wound's opening. She cringed at the sight of it and just imagining the pain made her wince. She made her way back to Grimbeorn and then his large dogs growled.
"What is it?" Arestel suspiciously asked. Grimbeorn stopped his doings and stared at his dogs. The creatures had their fangs bared towards the mountains. Then footsteps echoed in the forest as Grimbeorn stood up and went in front of Arestel.
"Orcs," he glowered to her. "They have come, those despicable Orcs from the Mountains!"
Next Chapter: Grimbeorn in action and some character death.
Author's Notes: I'm starting to notice the character deaths. Is this like, a George R.R. Martin fic? LOL. Anyway, here's another chapter folks; quite a long one, I guess. Grimbeorn is Beorn's son, y'know the badass bear dude we see in The Desolation of Smaug? Yeah? Okay. Hope you guys like this one. Thank you for all the reviews!~
