Renee: thank you again for your review. I'm glad you like how I ended up doing it, and he'll eventually forgive her but it may take awhile.
Mya: Thank you, I'm glad you liked it. He had more than enough reason to me mad.
I can live with your ghost
if you say that's the most that I get
Send Me the Moon by Sara Bareilles
Beorn grabbed the round tub he'd made when he had first found Arael, when she was too weak to bathe herself, and stripped her of her dirt caked clothes and put her in the warm water. He picked the sticks and leaves out of her messy tangled hair before washing it. The water had turned completely brown within moments of pouring it over her hair and she had to stand naked in the cold as he dumped the dirty water and warmed some more. She stepped back into the wooden tub and wrapped her arms around her knees as she shivered, feeling Beorn run his fingers through her tangled hair. In the end he had to cut its ends, it being too knotted to salvage, and it barely concealed her breasts as it fell over her shoulders. Though it curled beautifully when it dried, framing her lovely despaired face.
"Something happened," Beorn said after he had wrapped a blanket around her nude body, having no clothes for her to wear and her own being too dirty to even clean.
"Doesn't it always," was her reply and her voice sounded so dead Beorn did not know what to do other than leave it alone.
"You should rest," he offered, seeing the dark circles beneath her eyes, but she shook her head. "Eat something?" he asked and again she shook her head, but he gave her no choice, her cheekbones were sharp where they stuck out of her gaunt face, having lost much weight from not eating. She slowly ate the honeyed biscuit he placed in front of her and waited for her to finish.
"The honey needs to be harvested," he said and she followed after him with a bucket to help. When night fell he gave her a single biscuit and ale before leaving her to retire; knowing very well she wouldn't. And so he was not surprised to return at dawn to find her sitting in the chair he had left her in. She would have sat there all day staring at nothing if he had not placed small knife and a block of wood in her hand. When night fell again she had carved, in full detail, a wooden figurine; she had worked hard without thinking and was left staring at a figure with large hands and too big feet and two braids on either side of his head and another two framing his mouth. Beorn watched as tears welled in her eyes as she looked at what she had done before she viciously threw it into the fire and curled into herself on her bed. Beorn sighed heavily before leaving her once more, hearing the moment she began to weep when she thought he had left.
Her tears had dried leaving her to feel empty and used as she laid quietly listening to the wood in the fire crackle as it burned. Thoughts of Fili flooded her mind and she drowned in them unable to push them away, until well into the night she heard a scratching on the door. A loud thump sounded when something hit it and it continued until Eleni got out of bed to open the door.
"I don't want to," she told Beorn when she saw his massive black shape staring down at her. He pushed against her with his head before kneeling on the ground for her to climb on his back. She stood in the doorway holding her ground before he roared angrily causing her to agree. His fur was warm against her skin as she held onto him, the air chilled around her as he ran. They came to a small hill where he knelt so she could slip down and she stood shivering against the coming-winter wind realizing for the first time she was not wearing clothes. It took a few moments to remember Beorn had tried to salvage her skirt and shirt but he had not been able to, and that she had been nude for two days. She looked down at herself, seeing her skin was milky in the moonlight, wondering how she had not noticed that. Beorn laid on his side and she curled herself into his thick fur as she looked up at all the stars, seeing the shapes her and her brother had learned so many years ago. She stared at the small twinkling balls of light until her eyes grew bleary and she opened them to find that the sun had risen.
"Tell me what happened," Beorn said and she turned to see he was now a man, and though he had seen her without clothes many times before she brought her knees to her chest to cover herself.
"I would not know where to start," she answered honestly.
Beorn looked at her closely, studying her, seeing how slender her waist had become from the weight she had lost. "You could start with the fair-haired dwarf," he said surprising her. "You did not leave his side, not even after he had woken. You love him," he said watching her face for emotion though he saw none.
"It does not matter," she said quietly wrapping her arms tighter around her legs.
"Everything matters," he said correcting her.
She shook her head. "Not this time."
"What happened?" he demanded.
She stayed quiet awhile before answering. "I fucked his uncle," she said bitterly and Beorn could see her guilt, her regret.
"Did you love him too?" Beorn asked to which she laughed, a high-pitched shill sound that was as unnatural as it was horrible to hear.
"No," she said looking at him with her gray eyes full of tears. No more words were spoken as they sat on the hill, the air cold as it swirled around them, winter coming upon them fast. Beorn saw her shaking and he offered her a hand to help her stand, seeing her skin raised in many bumps from the cold. After an hour of walking he sat her in front of a fire with a blanket wrapped around her.
For the rest of the winter she stayed beside the fire wrapped in a blanket, often whittling little figurines. Beorn watched as her work grew in number seeing the odd shape of dwarves and then a large piece of wood she had yet to begin working on. She made Dwalin and Balin, Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur, Oin and Gloin, Dori, Nori, and Ori, and Kili. She even made little Bilbo with the round shape of the ring in his pocket. She then spent almost two weeks creating Erebor from the large piece wood, carving the main gate and the hidden door, the spurs on the side, the look out post. It was nearing spring when she made Thorin and Fili, putting in more work on getting them just right, and when the snow had thawed and trees began to bud was when she had finished.
Beorn stared over her shoulder on the first day of spring, seeing the figurines she had spent so much time crafting, the detail she had put into each one proving she cared more about them than she had been willing to show. Her hair had grown longer and now covered the rosy peaks on her breasts, and now that it was spring Beorn could sheer the sheep and use the wool to make her clothes.
"Where are you?" he asked seeing all the members of Thorin's company besides herself.
"Where I should have been," she said simply and Beorn knew she meant she should not have joined them.
"Would you like to go back?" he asked and she looked up at him after she had made her decision. He spent the next week preparing for them to leave, him only to see her arrive safely, and her to remain there. His sheep mostly stayed indoors, it still being too chilly for them to have been shorn but he needed their wool. At the end of the week she was clothed for the first time since she had come to his home, and though the dress only ended at her knees she was thankful for the time he had spent making it for her.
It took them a little less than a week to arrive, spending many nights with her on his back as he ran over the land. She turned to him to bid him farewell, seeing that he too was sad at her parting, and it took her a great amount of strength not to cry. Beorn placed a large hand under her chin, stroking her cheek with his thumb, staring hard into her eyes seeing she was slowly mending. It had pained him to hear her choked sobs as she crafted Fili, but her tears had ceased when she'd finished him. Her hips had widened to their normal size as he gave her more food, her breasts grew fuller, her eyes warmed. He had kept her busy all through winter, hardly giving her a chance for her mind to wander, but was surprised at how sad he was for her to leave. He bent low and she wrapped her arms around his neck as she hugged him goodbye. No words were spoken, there were none, they were each other's closest friend; hers having all perished and him not favoring companionship. But she turned from him before she would cry and walked across the bridge into the elven stronghold where Elrond was waiting for her.
"Osu'Nys," she heard a boy cry and she held her arms out as Estel flew into them. She fell to her knees holding him to her chest and she breathed in the smell of her brother's son, reveling in having him near once more. "I thought you'd never come back," he said wrapping his arms around her as tight as he could.
"You've grown," she said holding him away from her to look at him, seeing he was more muscular, though not by much, and taller than when she had left almost two years ago.
"Your hair is different," said Estel holding the curls in his hands. "It's not as long," he said finally realizing what had changed.
"Yours has gotten longer, perhaps I should cut it."
"He won't let me touch it," she heard a feminine voice say and looked up to see Gilraen smiling as she came down the stairs. They held each other tightly, their love for Arathorn and now Estel binding them together. "I never thought to see you again," Gilraen whispered as tears burned her eyes.
"I could never have left him," Eleni answered though she would have, if Fili had not asked her to leave she never would have returned. The two women stepped apart and smiled at each other before laughing at seeing the tears shining in the other's eyes.
"Welcome home," Gilraen said and Eleni smiled for the first time in almost a year though she still felt a splinter of pain in her chest.
That pain would prove to never leave her over the next few months as the season turned warm into summer. She would smile and laugh as she played with Estel, as she helped him train with both sword and bow, as she and Gilraen spoke of what she would do now; but never did she speak of Fili. Instead she would lie awake at night and thoughts of him would overcome her and try as she might she could not rid herself of them. One night she woke from dreaming of Fili as he had brought himself to a finish against her leg, the sound of his voice panting her name in her ear, and even her breasts felt swollen with the need for him. She buried her head in her pillow and fought the needs of her body. She did this every night, her mind betraying what she wanted by dreaming of Fili, by imagining, as she had when they had done it, that it had been Fili she had laid with. Night after night she would wake from those dreams, an ache between her legs she had more trouble fighting, until one night she finally succumbed and gave her body what it craved.
This was her state on a warm summer day when the sun was hot on their backs and the breeze smelled of flowers.
"Keep your shoulders back," she said and watched as Estel straightened his spine as he held his bow. He whooped loudly when the arrow hit its target and she smiled and clapped at his victory and he gave her an exaggerated bow.
"And now to kiss the lady I rescued," he said in a deep voice trying to sound like a warrior before walking to her and standing on his tip toes to kiss her cheek.
Eleni smiled as she chuckled before he pointed to something behind her. "What is that Osu'Nys?" he asked. She looked over her shoulder to see a small black shape high above and watched as it circled before landing on the wall next to her.
"Roäc?" she asked unbelieving as she looked at the old raven who had first came to speak with Thorin when he told them Smaug was dead.
"Arael of the Dúnedain, daughter of Arador," he said in greeting and in that moment, seeing the bird she knew came from Erebor, she forgot about her nephew who did not know who their ancestors were. "I bear a message from Fili King under the Mountain," he cawed and her heart beat loudly in her ears.
"What is it?" she asked unsure if she truly wanted to know. Roäc held out his right leg and she saw a small rolled paper tied to it. Her hands shook as she undid the bow and then as she unrolled it. It was no bigger than her hand, which was still too large for the message that was written on it. In a lovely script written by the hands of a king were only four words, words that stilled her heart in her chest.
Come back to me.
