Morine followed Beorn for miles as the Misty Mountains rose steadily on the horizon. The shadows were growing longer despite the persistent heat of the day. Finally, the sound of running water filled the air, and the plants grew greener as they got closer to the Great River.
In the middle of the swift, wide stream protruded a gigantic rock. Morine had never seen the place before, though centuries ago she had crossed the same river at a point much farther south. It looked more like a mountain, standing authoritatively over the low laying plains surrounding it. She watched Beorn easily swim through the current and climb onto a flattened portion of the rock, black fur matted down with the weight of the water. He shifted back into his human form, beard and woolen clothes dripping, as he stood and waited for her to cross.
The icy water nearly paralyzed her as she plunged into the river, cursing herself for not checking the temperature first. Only now did she realize that it flowed from the north, and she guessed from the temperature that it must be from the frozen heights of either the Misty or Grey Mountains. Arriving as happily as any other skin-soaked feline would, she pried herself up onto the ledge and nearly collapsed in exhaustion, bones shaking. Shifting wearily into a human, she was sopping wet and frustrated at the large man who was guffawing jovially at her annoyance, warm brown eyes dancing in cruel humor. "It's not funny," she said stonily, following him up a long and twisting staircase that was formed into the rock with nearly chiseled precision. Morine wondered if he had made the staircase himself, if it existed naturally, or if some other person before him had made it.
Beorn waited patiently for her atop the rock, hardly out of breath from the hefty climb. When she had made the last few steps, she stopped in her tracks. As impressive as the rock was from the bottom, it was nothing compared to the view it offered from the top. To the south lay golden fields of grass as far as she could see, blowing in the waves of wind. To the west, the sun's rays peaked over the snowy tops of the Misty Mountains, their ridges and valleys in high contrast as they ran as far southward and northward as she could see, like a divisive spine running through Middle Earth. To the north, the lands were already being cast into shadow. Finally, to the east lay her beloved home, a forest of never-ending trees, nearly as imposing as the mountains that lay opposite of them. The river flowed between the two forces like a middle point.
For the second time that day, Morine stood breathless in the absence of words. Beorn stood near the edge, hands set squarely on his hips in unabashed pride as he took in the view as well. "Amazing, isn't it?" his deep voice boomed at her.
Dumbfounded, she nodded her head and walked toward the edge to sit beside where he stood. "Wow," she whispered, drinking in the rich colors before her.
"I call it the Carrock," he informed her, referring to the mountain-like rock.
"I like it," she said. The distance of the visibility was astonishing, and she wondered how far they would be able to see were the forest and mountains not so invasive. The last rays of sunlight sparkled on the water as it raced off to the south.
She turned to Beorn as he smiled at her. "When I first moved here from the mountains, I discovered this place," he began, slowing taking a seat beside her near the edge. "I'm not sure if you noticed, but there is a small cave at the base of the rock. For a while, I lived here. I was young at the time, and alone. I thought the swiftly moving water would protect me, and it did until I grew enough to risk leaving."
"Why did you move from the mountains?" she asked in curiosity.
He sighed and looked over to their snowy peaks. "It was not by choice," he said darkly, a shadow cast upon his face. "Damn goblins." She waited patiently for him to continue, noticing that for once the silence between them could pass for comfortable. "My family lived there for many generations before the goblins began creeping up the western slopes. We thought that the mountains would keep them on that side, but they seem determined to conquer and take everything they can reach. It was not long before they had tunneled through to the eastern side. They waged skirmishes against my kin, but while we kept them at bay for years, they dug more and more tunnels and grew in numbers, slowly overtaking us."
Morine was becoming intoxicated with the soothing sound of his deep voice, and she wished that he would tell more stories.
After a pause, he continued, "Then one day, the Great Goblin appeared. He led the horde in an organized attack against us, and we were surrounded on all sides. I lost all of my family that day," he finished heavily.
"How did you survive?" Morine quietly asked, turning to look at his face.
Beorn shrugged his shoulders. "Luck? I don't remember much. It happened so fast. Everything is a blur. I remember dodging the goblins around me and running downhill into the trees. Next thing I knew, I was here," he said, slapping a palm on the rock.
Her eyes were wet with unshed tears when she softly said, "I'm sorry." They sat in the peace, listening to the birds go quiet and looking at the golden plains that stretched before them. Finally, she offered, "I lost my brother." Beorn set his warm brown gaze on her pale face. "He came with me from the west, over those same mountains." She gestured toward them. "We were always together, just the two of us. When we got to Greenwood the Great—as it was called before Mirkwood—I fell in love with it. I never wanted to leave, but Romen was intent on continuing our journey eastward." She shook her head at the thought of his stubbornness. "We argued about it for a long time, though I accompanied him to the eastern edge of the forest. When I saw the barren landscape that lay beyond it, I felt it could offer me nothing, but he was even more determined to see what was on the other side of it." Much softer, she said, "So he left."
Beorn suppressed the sudden urge to wrap an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. His own family was a tight knit group, a clan, that would never abandon one of their own. The idea made his stomach turn and temper flare. For a woman to be left alone in that forest, even before the Necromancer's arrival, she would have to be strong and capable, though he had already known that Morinehtar was such a woman. She was so unlike any other woman he had met.
Suddenly, she said, "That is why I am determined to see this evil eradicated from Mirkwood." He could see the passion burning in her eyes. "The forest is my home. I cannot lose it." A knot stuck in her throat. She thought of Gandalf and the weapons he had given her to aid her quest, and she wished she had given him something else in return. "I pray that Gandalf succeeds in toppling Dol Guldur. For too long, I have witnessed the power of the Necromancer growing, overtaking everything in its path." Clenching her fists, she predicted, "He will not stop until the whole of Middle Earth is torn asunder." Beside her, Beorn nodded. "And if it means that I must go kill a dragon—Smaug, they call him?—then so be it. I will do whatever it takes."
"I would do no less for my own home," he agreed. "Though I have lost my home to the goblins, I swear that I will one day return to take back the land of my forefathers. Until that day, this land," he said sweeping an arm across the amber grain and green brush, "is my home, and I will not allow it to be taken."
His fiery warm brown eyes met her cool dark green ones. Pulling from his gaze, she took in the landscape again. Every part of Middle Earth that they could see—the mountains, the plains, the forest—was considered their home, and they had vowed to protect it. The Carrock was right in the middle.
Morine gathered the courage to ask him what had been bothering her for nearly three weeks. Knitting her brow, she asked him, "Why did you save me?" Beorn considered it for a moment. "And don't say it is because of Gandalf. You know as well as I that he would not have blamed you for it, had you left me, because chances are great that he would never have found out your involvement."
Growling at her in response, he realized that she would accept nothing less than the truth. He had come to know what his motivation had been during the past weeks as he watched her train, though he struggled with it. Ever since that night by the fireside, she had not strayed far from his thoughts. Casting his stubborn fears aside, he swept a loose strand of her ebony hair behind her ear and leaned closer, catching her off guard with the gentle touch. With transparent sincerity, his baritone voice answered, "Because ever since you stepped through my door, I have wanted to know more about you." With a breath, he continued, "You are the most intriguing person I have ever met, and I couldn't just leave you there." In the west, the sun was half-set behind the trees, showering everything in warm red hues in the final moments of the day.
He cupped a warm hand under her chin to tilt it up toward his own face. A fearful chill raced up her spine, and she briefly smelled the sweetness of honey with a hint of spicy cinnamon. His lips grazed hers softly for a long second before he pulled away, withdrawing his hand from her chin. She searched his brown eyes, finding nothing but warmth and welcome. He wrapped an arm around her waist as she leaned into him, and he entwined his other hand into her thick hair at the nape of her neck. They kissed again, unexpected passion quickly rising as the heat grew between them. Suppressing any nobler thoughts, she embraced this unknown primal feeling of humanity and lost herself in Beorn's sensuality.
