Morine kept her unspoken word by staying out of Dol Guldur, though she was keeping an eye on it from the top of a small hill in the forest. She nimbly climbed to the top of the tallest tree she could find on the hill and sat on the highest limb that would support her weight. The occasional breeze in her dark fur was delightful, and sometimes she would close her eyes and purr.
Mostly, the movement down below and outside of the fortress vied for her attention. While there was a constant trickle of orcs in and out of the dark gates, it seemed to her that they were up to something. One morning, the complex was too quiet and still for her liking. Morine was sure that something was happening or about to happen. Growling, she hopped down from limb to limb, digging her sharp claws into the scratchy tree bark to maintain her balance. The grass was soft between her paws as she prowled closer to the gates, hunched down low, and listened intently.
"Sorry, Gandalf," she thought as she stared at the fortress a few yards away, hiding in the thick brush. Keeping his promise had never been a priority, but the safety of the forest was her only concern. "What are they up to?" Emerald eyes scanned the black stone walls frantically.
A few uneventful hours passed until the black gates slowly swung wide open. Several dozen orcs in varying degrees of armor loosely trooped in file just a few feet from where she lie hidden, her heart nearly beating out of her chest. These orcs did not look like the ones she usually saw. Their ears were pointy like elves, and they were much taller, larger, and stronger looking. Morine had never seen anything like them. "Is this what they were up to?"
She followed behind them for tens of miles, wondering what mission they had been sent on. This part of the forest was unknown to her, as it was entirely overrun by the evil creatures that the Necromancer brought with him. When the troop stopped for a quick meal, she climbed a tree to check their bearings. Her head poked through the oversized leaves of the canopy, she was shocked to realize that they were nearly to the edge of the forest. A slender coil of smoke rose in the northern sky off to the right. "Beorn!" she thought, feeling a punch in her gut.
By the time she hit the forest floor, the soldiers were moving onward to leave the forest. "No!" She could not let them get to the grasslands. Men had settled a few miles to the south of the exit they were rapidly approaching. "I'm so stupid. Why didn't I stop them sooner?"
Stealthily, she pounced on the orc that was last in line, slicing his Achilles tendon. He did not have time to scream when he fell, and her sharp teeth bit into his neck to open his main artery. He bled out in minutes, and she moved on quickly to the other, spitting out the nasty black blood as she ran.
Her ferocious growl as she tackled the second orc startled the rest of them, and they began running forward, armor clanging loudly. She sliced through the orc's bare chest easily and ran after them. Two orcs stopped and aimed their arrows at her. One missed her, but the other whizzed by her ear. She jumped between the two of them, clawing their necks in midair and running onward. Only four orcs had been taken out when she saw the bodies of the orcs outlined by the bright sunlight from outside the forest.
"Stop!" she wanted to scream, a loud roar erupting from her throat, making them run faster. As the first few entered the openness of the grasslands, they stopped in their tracks. A huge black bear stood before them. Rising on its hind legs, it roared so ferociously that Morine felt a shiver of fear run down her spine, and she saw the bear's lips pulled back over its long, sharp yellow teeth. It raised a gigantic paw and swiped at the closest orc, whose throat spewed black blood. Frozen in fear, the troops began to panic and scramble when the bear growled again.
They scattered in all directions, some towards the bear, and some towards Morine. She took care of the two closest to her, catching glimpses of the bear as it swiftly felled orc after orc. If the animal became a problem, she would deal with it later. For now, it seemed that they had the same goal. Peeling her eyes away from the bear, she bounded after the over half a dozen of the strange soldiers who had retreated back towards Dol Guldur, hoping that the bear would kill the rest of them.
She ran well back into the forest until she was sure that she should have caught up with them already. Pausing to sniff the air in hopes of catching their stench, she heard a twig snap behind her. Too late did she realize that she had walked straight into a trap. "Dammit!" Her feline form moved in slow motion, struggling to turn around and attack.
The first arrow thudded into in her left shoulder, body lurching in surprise. Another struck in her right hindquarters, confirming that she was cornered. Raising her head high, she roared weakly as the pain struck at once. A third hit her ribs, making her sight go black. Morine felt herself slowly falling, body thudding heavily as it hit the bloody grass beneath her. Her left paw was twisted and stuck beneath her weight. Despite her will power, she could not muster the strength to move her body.
Three of the monstrosities towered over her now, laughing cruelly as her green eyes clouded over. One raised his sword to swing down upon her when a growl was heard in the distance, making him recoil. "Leave it," the largest one barked, observing her deep breathing and heavy lids. "Let it bleed to death. We still have the bear to deal with."
As they walked away, the smaller one snarled and tried to slash her gut open as she lay vulnerable, but he was pushed forward by another orc, blade slashing her right oblique. Without pain, she felt the cold, thick metal run through her muscle. A second growl, much closer this time, sent them sprinting. A few moments later, she faintly saw a large black shadow pass over her as it chased after her attackers, and she figured it was the black bear, who must have left her for dead as well. Numbness overtook her as her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
***
Beorn had been keeping a closer eye on the forest since his unexpected guests, especially the southern end. His mind often wandered to the mysterious woman he had taken an instant disliking to, who claimed she lived in southern Mirkwood. There were only a few settlements near the area, and he had confirmed with his friends who lived there that no one they knew fit her description. It was as if she came from nowhere, and it was another slight he added to his list of reasons not to like her.
It was good fortune, if one could call it such, that he was patrolling near the gate to the old southern forest road when several dozen orcs of unfamiliar nature came stumbling blindly into the daylight. The few orcs that had ever made it out of the forest to launch attacks on his friends' villages were usually weak and ill prepared for battle. He noticed that these were equipped with armor and both melee and range weapons. They also looked larger and stronger than the ones he had fought off before.
Children and women outnumbered the male population of the tiny towns, and any threat was a serious one to their well-being. He had to protect them at all costs. Even his capable friends would stand no chance against several dozen of these apparent soldiers. Already in bear form, he had to seize the blinding moment of transitioning into the daylight to intimidate them. He knew how dark the forest was, and he had only seconds before they would continue to slaughter anything in the way.
Rising on all fours, he roared as loudly as he could, even his stomach rumbling deeply. Spittle flew from his mouth, and he tensed up, ready to strike at the orc that was nearest to him. The orc fell quietly atop the golden grass, blood staining the brush around him. He let his fury fuel his fighting. His strong arms swung swiftly at the throats of his enemies, whose swords were too slow for his enraged state. He had annihilated several before noticing another creature that was preying on them as well—a large black feline. It was clearly a creature of the forest, as its fur was dark as night, and even now it chased after the ones who ran back in the way they had come. For a split second, they had made eye contact, and Beorn swore that the green eyes staring back at him were familiar.
Turning back to the threat around him, he shook off the feeling, knowing it was neither possible nor important. The lives of his loved ones were at stake. He ferociously slayed every single orc that had stepped into the sunlight, though it took some time. Without mercy he slashed with his dagger-like claws at any body part he could get to, making sure to leave none alive.
When they were eliminated, he cautiously poked his head inside the gateway. The forest hung heavy and low, darkness swallowing the light just a few yards ahead of him. It was too quiet for his liking. Hoping he would not regret the decision, he ran forward on the overgrown path. The cowards could not have run far, and he had anger left to spare as he roared once more. Eventually, a lump of blackness lay in the path ahead of him, and the distinct smell of blood invaded his nostrils. From this distance, he could tell that it was not orc blood, which had a foul stench to it. He would have time to ponder it later, despite the concerned tug in his heart for the unfortunate creature. He leapt as high as his huge body could over what he recognized as the panther that had run the orcs out of the forest.
The orcs were close enough ahead of him that their footsteps were clearly discernible. He counted seven of them total and knew he could easily take them out. A few were difficult to down, but it was not until the last one was left—perhaps the largest of all the ones he had fought—that he had to struggle. The orc even managed to nick the pad of his paw with his sword while Beorn swiped at him. Several long minutes of tense battle passed, enraging Beorn more. He could not let even one escape. If he knew where they had come from, he would make sure that none would emerge on his land again. Finally, he settled for a low blow: he sank his teeth into the orc's ankle, making him fall and drop his sword. In a second, it was over.
Breathing heavily, Beorn came down from the high of battle. The adrenaline pumped loudly in his ears as his heart rate slowed. Victorious, he turned back homeward. When he came to where the large feline had fallen, he was shocked to find an unconscious Morine where the panther had fallen in battle. Three arrows and a huge gash were slowly bleeding her to death.
Pride argued that he leave the menace to die. In this forest, no one would ever know the better, but the thought was fleeting. He was irreversibly intrigued to find Morine, and Gandalf had considered her a friend. He knew better than to make enemies of a wizard. Looking around cautiously, he shifted effortlessly into his human form. He rolled her onto her back and picked up her dead weight, exhaling slightly from his sliced open palm, though it was nothing compared to the ones Morine had sustained. With heavy, careful steps, he made the long trek home.
