Hey everyone. Work is working. Things are thinging. Life is going and these would be posted much more quickly if they stopped giving me 2-11pm shifts at work; can't really complain though. I hope all is well with you!
Anyway! Thank you to everyone who favorited and followed! And a special thank you to reviewers. Every kind word is appreciated – and constructive criticism is welcome.
angel897, Samm, Silversun XD – Thank you for the kind words and I hope you like this part!
Guest – I'm so glad you took a look at my story and more importantly that you enjoy it! I want the reader to have their own imagination work with my story to fill in the blanks I leave, but still following along this journey with this character as well as Tolkien's. As two the last two comments all I can say is keep reading! :)
Wintry Leaves – I hope my last PM didn't aggravate you, I was enjoying our conversation. Regardless, thank you for your review and your consensus on language's importance in a story.
Nevermorea – I'm sorry to hear about your predicament in regards to your health, but I'm glad my last update made you happy. There should be a couple sad flashbacks, but then the sweetness will return…before I possibly destroy it in Mirkwood…BTW I'm sticking with my plan for Beorn with a little more drama added for shiggles.
I've decided to do a story recommendations corner for my lovely friends here on FF. Since you're here for Thorin/OC I will only recommend those unless otherwise requested. I will do two incomplete so you can follow along with the journey and one complete for those who are impatient = (Me…Most days…)
CeffylGwyn: I've Seen Hell. *Complete*
Lystan: Destinies Entwined. *Incomplete: Updated: 03/10/17
Vargavinter: Dwarf Gold (The Sobriety of Hemery Skinner). *Incomplete: Updated: 06/22/17
We have done our best to try and keep a good pace over the last few days and now the safe haven Gandalf has promised us is near. However, with the howls of wargs filling the air it becomes apparent that they have finally caught up with us. Both Thorin and I have healed well; even now the only lingering effect is the fatigue.
I will not lie that there is temptation knowing Azog is so close and that I could attempt once more to take him down, but I know, in my heart, that I cannot leave my companions should they need me. Another howl splits the air and I can feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up. We are hiding on a ridge, awaiting Bilbo's report about what he sees. I hate waiting, but at least the rocks provide some cover.
Ori kindly tries to offer me the last of the peaches. We are trying to remain silent so I mime to him by pointing at my nose and then the ridge. They would easily smell that amidst the mountain winds if they didn't already. He shyly acknowledges what I tell him and with a small nod, puts the peach away. I grasp his arm lightly and give him a smile before releasing him.
Looking around the landscape, I feel uneasy. If there was more ice I would almost say it looks like the hills surrounding Gundabad. Thankfully there are more trees and the weather is far more far despite the chill. I wish the memories would fade, but it is so hard to shake.
"How far is the pack?" asks Thorin. His question startles me as I didn't realize that Bilbo had returned. However, I join the others around him to hear what he saw.
"Not far – a couple leagues; no more," says Bilbo breathlessly. "But that's not all."
"Have the warg's picked up our scent?" asks Dwalin, not giving the poor man a minute to breathe.
"Not yet, but they will," says Bilbo dishearteningly. "But we have another problem."
"Did they see you?" asks Gandalf with concern.
"No, that's not it," responds Bilbo.
"There, what did I tell you? Quiet as a mouse," says Gandalf proudly. "Excellent burglar material." I shake my head a little at Gandalf's boast, but I must agree that no other hobbit would do for this job.
"Will you listen to me? Would you just listen!" says Bilbo pleadingly. "I'm trying to tell you there is something else out there." Something else? Isn't Azog bad enough? I look up at the sky for a moment hoping that the Valar can see the distain in my eyes; they just let us reach the house without facing yet another obstacle.
"What form did it take?" asks Gandalf. "Like a bear?"
"Y-yes!" says Bilbo, surprised. "But, bigger – much bigger."
"You knew about this beast?" asks Bofur. Surprisingly, the miner panics somewhat and suggests, "We should double back." I look over at him and I can see the fear on his face. Bombur looks even more scared. I wonder what's going on with our Firebeard friends, but I don't have long to focus those thoughts.
"And be run down by a pack of orcs?" asks Thorin rhetorically.
"We are near the house. It is not so far away now; we can take refuge there," says Gandalf urgently.
"You have evaded the question long enough wizard. The last time I left this to you we ended up as elven guests. Now, whose house is this? Are they friend or foe?" My worries aligned with Thorin. He has not spoken of this "friend" since we left our first camp at Carrock. While even Rivendell elves might be welcome in this situation, I'm not too sure about this one.
"Neither. He will help us or…he will kill us," says Gandalf solemnly. I glare at the wizard while the others fret silently. He really must relearn what a 'friend' is. Somehow I doubt that they want to kill you regardless of their mood.
"What choice do we have?" says Thorin with a huff.
A familiar loud roar sounded from over the ridge and made me flinch. It may have been a bear, but there is nothing that big, except for one. Could it be him? I could feel my heart racing in my chest. I look back at Gandalf, wondering as to what madness he has led us to now.
"None," he answers to Thorin's question. "We must move. Quickly, now."
We are running once more and the exhaustion still hits me. However, I can easily say this if far better than the running we did in the goblin tunnels. At least out here the air is far clearer than the infested hole in the mountain. It surprises me how quickly the scenery changes from the rocky slopes into fields of flowers. I didn't think that Gandalf was lying when he said the house was near, but I didn't realize it is so close. It makes me optimistic that we might make it.
I can see a large stream ahead and I intend to slow, but as if Gandalf read my mind he calls for us to hurry faster. Bifur, who is running next to me, shares a look with me, but we continue on. Gandalf has made the right call though, as we are quick to discover that the stream is much shallower than we anticipated. We run through it with little trouble and cross the remaining flat land into another small patch of forestry.
Just as we entered another roar from the bear startles us. Fili grabs my hand and pulls me ever forward. I run forward, but I am looking behind me as I notice that Bombur hasn't moved. Thankfully, Thorin is on top of it.
"Bombur, come on," says Thorin, as he grabs his companion's beard to pull him away for the tree line. My long legs give me a slight advantage, but the tiredness I feel keeps near the middle of the pack. Before long we immerge from the wooded area and end up in a patch of grass lands.
"To the house!" shouts Gandalf. "Run!" At first I was going to yell at him about what house, but then I look up. Sure enough there is a house, well blended in the forest behind it. The roof looks like part of the treetops. The walls look like ruins, despite being whole. It is so well hidden I wonder how Gandalf even knew it was here.
When I see something in the corner of my eye I look over to see Bombur passing all of us. I would have never thought someone like Bombur could run so fast. He is the third one to pass through the large doors that act as a gate to the courtyard of the house. Gandalf pauses at the gate, allowing the others to pass through first. I wait as well looking back at the trees we passed through only moments ago to see the bear appear.
My heart leaps to my throat. The bear is large; larger than any warg and about the same size as the trolls. It breaks trees as it exits and as its paws hit the ground it sounds like thunder. Surprise more than anything overtakes me as I realize I have seen him before. The skin changer kept captive in Gundabad. I had seen the day he broke his chains and fled from Azog's cruel rule. I remember wishing I could join him. I only saw his bear form once, but the memory burns fresh in my mind now that he is before me once more. I am mesmerized and it takes Thorin's pull to stir me. As I approach the door to the house I realize that none of the dwarves have opened it. I see the small latch just out of their reach. I climb over some of them and lean over to reach it and lift it.
They fill the entry way with haste and try to close the door behind Gandalf, but are blocked by a large black muzzle. Every dwarf throws a shoulder into the wood in hopes of keeping him out. Bilbo is so startled by the intrusion that he draws his sword. I just stare at the door with bewilderment; of all the people this home could have belonged to – it is his. It suddenly becomes hard to breathe knowing my past has begun to haunt me.
The dwarves manage to hold the door to the point where the bear could no longer push in any further. He moves back, perhaps to make another attempt, but is stopped when a large piece wood is used as a barricade. True to theory the door flexes under the weight of the skin changer's push, but it does not give. The others are panting from the exertion and watching the door with wary eyes in case it should begin to give.
"What is that?" asks Ori.
"That is our host," replies Gandalf calmly. "His name is Beorn…and he is-"
"A skin changer," I whisper. I didn't think they heard me, but they did. They are all staring at me now, even Gandalf.
"Do you know him?" asks the wizard with curiosity.
"I saw him once. He was a captive in Gundabad," I say. My legs have started shaking from the pain of forcing myself to remain standing. "I saw him escape from that place…I never thought I would see him again." Before anything else can be said I collapse suddenly. I fall back into a wooden post.
Thorin rushes forward, "Oin!" He didn't need to shout though; the healer is right next to him. He starts to look at my wounds. It is apparent under Kili's cloak that I managed to open the wound on my neck. It must've happened when I went for the latch on the door. Luckily it's not bleeding horribly, but it's enough to worry the others. Fili and Kili leave the door to join me. Fili replaces himself with the post, allowing me to lean against him instead and Kili takes up beside us, still anxiously watching the door.
Gandalf continues to explain though, "Sometimes he is a huge black bear and sometimes he is a great, strong man. The bear is unpredictable, but the man can be reasoned with. However, he is not overly fond of dwarves." Why am I not surprised?
"He's leaving," says Ori as he leans closer to the door. I hear Kili's sigh of relief in my ear.
"Come away from there," says Dori, frightened. He grabs his younger brother and leads him away from the door. "It's not natural, none of it. It's obvious…he's under some dark spell."
"Don't be a fool," says Gandalf chidingly. "He's under no enchantment, but his own. Alright now, get some sleep –all of you. You will be safe here tonight." He mumbles something else, but I cannot hear him.
Ever the worker, Oin immediately begins to tend to me. "Let's see if we can get her situated for the night. You lads start setting up a spot for her to rest for the night. I'm gonna see what I can do about stopping the bleeding. Thorin, you stay here with her," instructs the healer.
Fili places a small kiss on my forehead and Kili does the same to my cheek. As Fili moves away, Thorin takes his place in steadying me. Oin begins investigating a nearby chest for anything that might be useful; however, he is quick to realize there is nothing of use and move on. The others are suspiciously quiet as they examine the house, giving Thorin and I plenty of space near the door. Thorin's hand is on my waist sets my skin on fire, but it isn't discomforting. I turn my head to look up at him, but he is looking around the house.
I follow suit, curious about the man-bear I had seen once. There are many animals roaming around the house. I see goats, sheep and chickens wandering the house. I distinctly notice some white mice walking across a large chess table. It's through a doorway and passed what could only be a large dining room table. My heart unexpectedly drops again; the last time I had seen this man he had been a prisoner, alone in the dark dungeons of Gundabad. Here he is surrounded by animals and no other living soul for miles. Who did he play with? I turn my head slightly and I can see the lack of shine that the lacquer on the other table had. There is a layer of dust on the pieces; so I suppose the answer is no one.
Bombur, Bilbo, Gloin, and Nori make toward what might be a kitchen. Everything in the house is so large and open that the rooms are almost unidentifiable, but then again this is not a normal tenant in this unusual house. A kitchen is the best guess though seeing as it has there are various large jars of flour and honey. Upon the announcement of honey, Oin quickly follows them with makeshift bandages in hand in hopes of making a poultice.
I spare another glance at Thorin to see he is once more watching me. He seems surprised that I even bothered to look at him. Then he seems anxious that I caught him, his eyes flickering away from me and looking everywhere, but me. We all made it through once more, unharmed and with exhaustion running through me I can help giving him a smile. When he realizes I am still looking at him, he looks back and gives me a small smile in return. I turn in towards him and settle myself on his shoulder. He feels warm and regardless of the smell of sweat and goblin that lingers on him there is something else. It has no name so it must be him.
As I turn into him I can feel the brush of his beard against my temple. One would think that a beard would tickle or scratch your face if you pressed yours against it, but only a brush of his hair I all I could feel is softness. I could have just missed his beard entirely, as beards are very important to any dwarf, but I simply couldn't resist. Thorin makes a noise of some sort, maybe indignation, but I am too comfortable to care. I close my eyes for what felt like a brief moment, but before I know it Oin is waking me.
"Sit up straight, lass," he says as he begins to clean the wound. "We'll clean ya up, get some food in ya, and then you can rest."
I nod, but I don't necessarily agree with Oin's order of priorities; I'd rather sleep, then eat, and then clean up later. However, as I say that I begin to realize just how much my body reeks. My last bath that didn't consist of using a wet rag to scrub myself was in Rivendell. Soon, I think, I will take care of it soon. Instead I look over towards the stable area where larger animals are tethered.
I looking across the room, I can see the others settling down their rolls and some blankets the empty pins. Each are busy with their task they don't seem to notice my stare. I immediately lock on to Fili and Kili making a bed in the corner of a stall, beneath a small window for ventilation. The set up they had is obviously too big for me alone. I know it's for all of us and my heart swells.
They told me after our first day of trekking through the remaining peaks that they're intent on declaring me their sister; I would never say aloud just how much the notion made me happy. I accepted humbly with as many words as I could manage. My brothers…there is nothing else in the world I could want more.
"There you are," says Oin. He releases my arm and quickly looks it over before standing up. "Bilbo and will take a look through the stores to see what we can find." He turns to Thorin, "Keep her awake – we need her to eat something."
The healer disappears once more into the kitchen. Thorin shifts around momentarily. For a moment I worry that I had gone too far and he is avoiding a repeat of my earlier embrace, but that is not the case. He actually brings me closer to him after he finds what it is he is looking for. I'm almost back to my previous position when Thorin places something in my hand. I look down to see Thorin placing the peach Ori tried to give me earlier into my palm. I feel another smile on my face and take the fruit. When I do Thorin covers my hand with his. I look up at him to see him looking back at me.
"Make sure you eat all of it. I know the worst of you anemia has abated, but with your wound reopened we can't take any chances. You need to heal while we are here," he says seriously.
My heart flutters in my chest a little at his intensity. I recall a time where I simply thought Thorin and I to be similar, but as time and truths passed between us we have become…more. It also makes me realize though, that I don't know much about him. I have revealed myself to him, in more ways than one, and yet I know very little more than the legend of Thorin Oakenshield. The little I do know is in his personality than his past; I know he is honorable, loyal, and full of hope even if he doesn't realize it. I want to know more…I am drawn to him in a way I never have with anyone else in my life before.
I know there is more between us than we are willing to express fully – not that our situation is ideal. However, as these tender moments increase in their frequency it becomes harder to…ignore? I wouldn't say I'm ignoring it, but trying to balance romantic feelings with various life threatening situations is rather difficult. It only makes it harder when I know nothing about such relationships. My mother and father are hardly ideal for the plight I find myself in and despite Hadrien's "advice" it is hard to explain. Thankfully for the most part every moment Thorin and I have shared has been natural – easy as breathing.
He looks at me expectantly so to pacify him I start in on the peach. It's a good think this is the last one. The skin is beginning to toughen and the interior is softer than it should be. If we waited much longer, that fruit would have started to turn. It feels like under Thorin's gaze that I am going too slow, but I eventually make it to the pit. Thorin takes this from me and throws it into the fireplace near us. Somehow I doubt that Beorn would appreciate that, but I'm too tired to do anything to the contrary.
Thorin now moves his hand to my back and presses me closer to him. I wrap one of my arms around Thorin's waist and resume the position I had taken up earlier. I focus on Thorin's breathing and before I know it I am drifting once more. However, I stir when I hear Oin's voice after he returns once more.
"I thought I told ya not to let her sleep," says the son of Groin, frustratedly.
"'m not sleepin'," I mumble out.
Thorin's chest rumbles slightly though no sound actually comes out.
"Sure ya aren't, lass," says Oin sarcastically. "A look in the pantry speaks volumes about our host's dislike for fresh meat. Bilbo has foun' some cranberries and will make a drink for ya. We will have to wait until mornin' to find somethin' more effective."
"Alright," is the only response I can muster. My brain has become foggy and with Thorin so warm beside me the motivation to stay awake has almost disappeared altogether.
"I had best move her now. I don't want to leave her sleeping by the door," says Thorin. Oin only gives a hum of agreement before his voice disappears completely. Then I feel light and a little unstable, so I throw my other arm over Thorin's shoulder. He sets me down on Fili and Kili's makeshift bed tenderly, removing my arms from his person with delicate precision. However, I hold onto his hand and give him another smile. I notice Fili and Kili looking at us both in surprise, but they say nothing. I feel such relief to find a haven from Azog, not matter how dubious the host. I'm sure Thorin is feeling something similar and I can't help saying it out loud:
"We made it; we're safe. We're so close now. We will make to Erebor, Thorin. I know it."
Then he gifts me with a genuine smile and a nod of his head. His fingers tighten slightly around mine. "We will, Tahna. We'll be home soon."
Home…it sounds wonderful. The others clearly think the same as they start to smile with misty eyes at the thought. The moment settles for only a few seconds more before Bilbo appears with a large cup of cranberry juice.
"Here you go," offers the hobbit.
I give him a nod of thanks before sipping from the cup. It is rather bitter, but I drink it anyway. Once I finish, I return the cup to Bilbo and begin to settle in. I faintly hear the others talking around me for a little while, not sure how long. However, when Kili settled in behind me the warmth was enough to put me to sleep.
Thorin is the last one awake, except for Gandalf. Gandalf rests next to the fire, smoking his pipeweed silently. He is lying in the hay a few feet from his nephews and the ranger. With the space allotted he could have taken up a similar position as he had before, above their heads; but the desire to touch Tahna's hair would have been overwhelming, so he watches them safely from a distance.
The others had also sprawled out among the back pens. Just passed the post near his head is the hobbit. Thorin couldn't see many of them, but he could hear their breathing. He did notice the hobbit turning in his sleep, but is distracted when the large door opened. He turned his head to see past the piece of wood blocking his view, but is cautious in not creating too much noise. The sound of footsteps suggests it could only be their magical host. When the footsteps stop Thorin almost stops breathing; he could feel the skin changer watching them.
Beorn has nothing on, revealing the peculiar amount of hair growing along his back. They looked like hackles, despite being in human form. He is taller than any person Thorin has encountered; if anything might act as a comparison, he thinks about the trolls they had encountered earlier in the venture. He just watches silently for a moment – his gaze shifts to the wizard who is already looking back. They just look at each other for several moments before the skin changer breaks his stare and continues back into a further part of the house.
Thorin only releases his held breath when the sound of the skin changer's footfalls couldn't be heard. He sees the wizard relax physically, as though despite his calm he had been preparing for a fight. Anger and impatience boil beneath his skin; even if he and his kin were fine for now the wizard had brought them somewhere that may have been equally as dangerous as Azog's hunting party. A rush of frustration fills the dwarrow king. His whole life has been at the decisions and mercy of others. First it was Smaug who forced him from his home, then his father and grandfather who led them into battle at Azanulbizar; then his people who relied on him to lead and the mercy of men who provided him with the work to care for them. It is an endless cycle now: not having enough and relying on others to provide the work so they may earn enough to keep his kin alive.
Despite Gandalf's urging, it was his decision to undergo this quest. Once they have reclaimed their home they could be self reliant once more. Dams and children would never have to consider working and the dwarrow could stay home with their families or pursue their crafts at their leisure. There would be pride among his people once more. It is a day Thorin has long dreamt of and this quest would secure it. This mission is his choice and only those who followed him have taken it as their own.
He looks over at Tahna once more as she curls herself closer to Fili's back in her sleep. She had been another choice he had made. It's strange now to think that he might have left her behind, never known her. Gandalf had even at one point advised against bringing her.
It had been his decision to bring her with them…and it comforts him; she comforts him and she chose them. Thorin takes heart not only in his decisions, but hers. She knew what she would be getting into, for the most part, but chose to follow him. Her connection to the company palpable, but it is only because she chose them. She wants to be here. He may not have known everything at that the time he offered her a place in his company, but he cannot think of anything worth changing that.
Thorin changes his mind and moves over to where they slept. He takes up a position by their heads once more, propped against the stone wall. His eyes rest on the three of them, watching their breathing until he slips under Irmo's embrace; dreaming of when they would reclaim the mountain with Tahna beside him.
The air is musty from the staleness of the hay, but it is warm. There is a loud noise, not steady, but consistent. As it continues I realize it is muffled by the walls. I open my eyes to see the sunlight streaming in from the window above. I move away from it, hoping to hide my eyes with Fili's arm, but that's when I realize I am alone. I become alert, finally drawing more energy than I have had in days.
As I regain my senses from slumber, I can hear the dwarves muttering amongst themselves down the hall. I hadn't heard them over the rhythmic striking coming from outside. I rise, leaving the warm bed my brothers made the night before. I notice Thorin's coat had been placed over me so I leave it lying nicely on the hay. The others had all left heir things amongst the stalls so I doubt there is much danger here at the moment.
As I walk passed the oxen in the barn I stop at one of them and gently brush the hair along its necks. I feel a sudden longing to brush Wildwind's mane and I wish for the presence my equestrian friend. The beast seems to enjoy the attention, but with a pat on their heads I continue down the hall to a secondary door.
The hushed voices become a little louder, but I find that they have become quieter since I woke up. I unconsciously fall back into a stealthy volume, quietly observing to see what's wrong. I finally reach a doorway where only a few of dwarves stood. Bofur is directing them and they leave in pairs. I am confused to say the least, but I remain silent though I do notice the strange noise has stopped. Eventually, Bofur and his kin stumble out the door. The only one remaining closest to the door is Thorin, but before I can ask him anything he also steps outside the archway.
He hadn't seen me, but I'm curious about what they are doing and why were they so quiet. I follow him, unsure of what else to do. I can see all the others lined up outside, looking slightly nervous. They are all looking in one particular direction, perhaps it's Beorn. Bombur is the first one to see me and he looks worried. He steps a little closer to the house, making motions in Iglishmek for me to go back inside.
I panic a little bit wondering what could be so dangerous for me to have to back. I grab the hilt behind my back in case the company is in trouble. Thorin saw Bombur's movement and despite his stony face there is an anxiety there I haven't seen before. I had hoped that I would have the element of surprise against the skin changer, but apparently he notices.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHO IS THAT?"
The voice is thunderous and frightens me at first, but the dwarves are already at Beorn's mercy. It wouldn't do to leave them to face him alone. So with a confident step I enter the light of day. I try looking at Beorn, but my eyes have a poor time adjusting. Thorin offers me his hand to help be down the two large steps. I notice Fili and Kili's tight faces and hope that the situation is not nearly so bad as to warrant that.
So for the first time I take a look at our host in his human form. The first thing I notice is his amber eyes, not gold like mine, but at the same time not the common brown found among men. They are focused and while initially annoyed, he now seems surprised. He is also very tall as I can tell from where Gandalf stands next to him. His natural tan, the dirt on his arms and chest, and his hair prevent me from being able to tell where one begins and another ends. He holds an axe in his hand, which indicates that he was the one making the noise earlier. I do also notice the shackle that remains on his left arm. A painful reminder…
He says nothing and stares at me silently. As the moments pass the company becomes more tense, fearing that my presence has only made him more aggravated. Slowly, the bear-man lowers his axe, leaning it against the stump beside him. He approaches in large strides, Thorin quickly moves me behind him to protect me. Beorn notices this and turns towards Thorin with a distasteful look.
I don't like the way he looks at Thorin, as if he were some sort of…thing. I grip Thorin's shoulder and bring him closer to me, accepting his protection, but also in hopes of keeping Thorin calm. I can feel the tension between both sides; something must be said.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Master Beorn. I know we are not exactly welcome guests, but the shelter from the orc pack is greatly appreciated," I say.
"Mmmm. Yes; the orcs," says Beorn aloud, though more to himself. He looks back over his shoulder at the open fields, as if seeing the threat just at the edge of his boulders. He turns back to me and looks between myself and Gandalf. "I would like an explanation and I am fond of stories, but as you said, young one, I am your host and it would not do to see my guests go hungry. Enter my halls and I will see you are feed. Come!"
The large man walks past us, his gaze lingering on me slightly. As he disappears down the hall we all release a breath we had unwittingly been holding. Kili comes up to Thorin and I, at first I think he is going to talk about the strangeness of the moment, but I am wrong.
"I think he likes you."
For most I think it would warrant a blush, but the uneasiness I feel with Beorn nearby has made me unhappy with Kili's comment more than embarrassed. My angle didn't allow me to see Thorin's face, but he gave the clipped reply.
"Don't be foolish, Kili. However, he did respond," he turns to me with a blank expression. "Perhaps you should tell him what happened."
"I, for one, agree with Thorin," pipes in Gandalf.
I had almost forgotten the wizard altogether so I turn to him, "He's your "friend." Why don't you tell him? It makes sense, especially since you are the one who led us here."
Gandalf looks a little abashed as the dwarves look between us with interest. I doubt the wizard is often chastised so I take advantage where I can. It serves him right though. I am not entirely alright with this position, but if I'm willing to face a dragon for my dwarves then a skin changer shouldn't be such a challenge. That doesn't change the fact that I am uneasy…
I sigh, "I'll do what needs to be done. Come on, our host is waiting."
The others all file in, heading for the dining room. After Dwalin falls in behind the rest, only Thorin and I remain. He reaches for the hand I have settled on his shoulder still. He looks up at me, something indiscernible on his face.
"Something bothers you," he breaths. "What is wrong, Tahna?"
I can feel the sad smile on my face. The memories of Gundabad have been resurfacing since seeing Azog and they are beginning to become crippling. My uncle and Morinehtar are the only ones alive who knows what happened in those mountains. They are both so far away. My mind is crying out for release of the burden I carry. Thorin has carried so many burdens, I hardly want to be another, but at the same time he is one of the few I can entrust it too.
I can't – or rather I don't – want to weigh the pain of my memories on the shoulders of my brothers; not yet. I trust the others with my life, but my wants also demand comfort along with sympathy and if I am entirely honest the one person want it from the most is Thorin.
"I will speak of it to you later. I swear," I say. I decide to test Thorin's possible reception to my tale by stepping closer to him; as I have no doubt I will need physical contact during the retelling of my memories. I remember distinctly falling apart in Neir and Hadrien's arms when I told them. At the moment my front is completely aligned with his back. It's almost funny how the top of his head rests at the top of the swell of my chest. I did not hold tight. This is his moment to decide before I make the mistake of possibly giving him more than he wanted.
I am entirely nervous and for a moment he says and does nothing. Just before the word mistake can cross my mind he takes my other hand to wrap both my arms around his neck. Now I am completely embracing him and he draws me even closer, to the point where I can bend my head to tuck my face behind his ear. I settle there, despite the strangeness of the position I am too delighted to care.
"Then I will wait for you," he says. I can hear a double meaning in his words, but I do not question it because I do not feel the need. To hold him here and now is enough.
"Alright you two," says a gruff voice. I look over to see Dwalin standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. He watches us with a smug look on his face from the inner doorway. "Our…host has begun to ask questions and I believe we agreed on the ranger being the one to answer them."
"Very well," says Thorin reluctantly. He takes my hand in his and leads me back inside. As we pass Dwalin the two exchange a look that I don't fully understand, but I have a feeling has more to it. Thorin takes me back to the dining room, putting me between Fili and Kili at the end of the table. Thorin remains standing at the back corner of the table by Fili. The table is surprisingly full of food, mostly bread and a variety of fresh fruits. Beorn has begun to pour everyone a large…tankard of milk. He looks up at me, making eye contact, and continues to pour drinks.
I pull in and Kili puts a plate of food before me with a smile. I take a bite of the bread and a groan releases from my throat with how good the honey bread tastes. It is sweet and even now I can feel the filling effect it has on me. Fili chuckles a little, but falls silent under my silencing glare.
"So you are the one they call Oakenshield? Tell me: Why is Azog the Defiler hunting you?" asks Beorn. He fills Gloin's cup with measured precision.
"He has been threatening the lives of me and my kin for ages," deflects Thorin. Then he adds, "Tahna mentioned that you had been a guest of the Defiler's in Gundabad." At that Beorn looks over at me with a knowing look.
"My people were the first to live in the mountains there were few…human settlements; until the orcs came down from the North. The Defiler killed most of my family; some he enslaved, but not for work you understand." The chinking of the chain suddenly rings as he moves. "It was for sport. Caging skin changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him." The air is heavy with his insinuation, but no one makes a comment.
"There are others like you?" asks Bilbo innocently.
"Once there were many," says Beorn. He says sadly as he places the pitcher of milk on the table.
"And now?" presses Bilbo.
"Now there is only one," says the man-bear. At least in that we were different. There were probably a dozen of those that had managed to escape the destruction of Imelkane. They lived with my uncle and cousin in Thoth, but I knew little of their day to day lives. Beorn takes a seat in his massive wooden chair. "You need to reach the mountain before the last days of autumn?"
"Yes," replies Gandalf since I put a handful of grapes in my mouth, "before Durin's Day."
"You are running short on time," says Beorn with a measured tone.
"Which is why we must go through Mirkwood," says the wizard. A small shiver passes through me as I think of the forest. I have been putting it out of my mind. With the Misty Mountains between us and Erebor I had been allowed to focus more on that, but with that obstacle removed it suddenly looming nearby and more pressing than I care to realize.
"A darkness lies upon that forest. Foul things creep beneath those trees. I would not venture there except in great need." Even the large, dangerous skin changer shares my sentiments.
"We will take the elven road. Their path is still safe," says Gandalf.
"Safe? The wood elves of Mirkwood are not like their kin. They are less wise and more dangerous…" He way he stares at me in particular make me wonder if he knows about the danger that faces me for entering Thranduil's realm, but it doesn't seem possible. "But it matters not." At that my eyebrows furrow.
"What do you mean?" asks Thorin.
"These lands are crawling with orcs. Their numbers are growing and you are on foot. You will never reach the forest alive." His words are true, the Greenwood may be close, but not close enough. With the open fields between us and the wood the Gundabad wargs would run us down. With that statement, Beorn stands up and approaches both of us. I knew he was tall, but from this position it's clear that he is looming over us. "I don't like dwarves – they are greedy and blind; blind to the lives they deem lesser than their own." I feel the need to defend my friends, but clearly their own silence in the defense of their honor speaks in volumes; best keep my opinions to myself for the moment. "But orcs I hate more…what do you need?"
"As you said, travelling on foot is foolish. If you have a mounts that could provide us with the speed we require to make it to the forest it would be most appreciated," says Gandalf immediately.
"Easily done," is Beorn's reply. "But you will release them before you enter the wood. I would not have them be tainted by such dark magic."
"Of course, naturally. Then we would also need provisions seeing as how the goblins took the rest of our supplies," adds Gandalf cheerfully. I think he's just happy that Beorn has agreed to help us. He had best not push Beorn too hard.
"Goblins?" asks Beorn curiously. No one says anything for a moment. He moves back towards the corner, sitting between Bifur and Thorin. His eyes are on me as continues. "I would very much like to hear what has happened in your travels."
My stomach rolls uncomfortably, but I do my best to ignore it by wiping my mouth and responding, "Well I joined Thorin and his company in the village of Bree in the West. It was much by chance as I was hunting some ghouls that were stealing children…"
"…and that's when we, uh, came across your house," I finish.
It has been some hours later with my retelling of our tale from Bree onward. Bilbo has helped several times throughout the story, sometimes to add his input and other times to correct me. It helps it seems as our host enjoys the hobbit's inserts with great amusement. Beorn has been enraptured with the story, but I never really found myself relaxing in the presence of the skin changer. I found myself looking at his shackles or scars and found myself fighting back the memories of frozen halls.
"Quite the misfortune has befallen you, but it makes for a most interesting tale," he says. The large man turns to Gandalf, "My thanks for killing the Great Goblin. I hate goblins just as much, if not more than orcs."
"It was my pleasure," says Gandalf grimly.
A brief moment passes before Beorn stands, "You are welcome in my lands for as long as you need. I will provide you the provisions you require when you leave as well as ponies for your ride to the edge of Mirkwood. Just ensure you do not wander too far beyond my halls and DO NOT be outside at nightfall."
"Thank you, Master Beorn," says Gandalf.
"I'm going out for now to check my borders – perhaps I can…relieve some of your pursuers of their task. Remain within the courtyard and all will be well," he says before he strides towards the door and leaves. I knew the dwarves had been tense during the initial meeting, but apparently they had also been anxious. A few moments after the door closes the others visibly relax.
"I canna believe he would call us greedy. We are on a noble quest with our very lives on the line; how is tha greed?" asks Gloin, indignant.
"I don't think he meant us specifically," says Bofur. I agreed somewhat. I have met few dwarves in my life before now. They have always been closed off, but not necessarily blind. Their race has suffered since their inception; it is in their nature to keep their kin and livelihood safe above all others. Is that what it means to be greedy in Beorn's eyes? To love anyone so much that you would chose them over everything else?
I picture Thorin having to choose between spending the money he earned on a starving family or his struggling family. I know his choice and while it is hard – it would also be mine. I am a woman, a ranger, and human. I cannot be perfect and I if I had a family I would always choose them. I know now that I would always choose my dwarves. I also know if Thorin had to choose between feeding himself or that same family, he would go hungry. As I look around I have a feeling all of the others would do the same, even sweet little Bilbo. It makes me happy…
My mother comes to mind as a comparison. She always kept her distance from everyone; even my father. I always thought it was just her way, but now, being given the love of these dwarves I know she had been selfish. She refused to share herself with others, the way my dwarves have shared with me, and I with them. I look amongst them as they agreed that while dwarves keep possessions close, that didn't mean they were greedy. If love is greed then I pray that I never go a day without such a sin.
The moment is too much and I silently slip away while my brothers spoke animatedly with other members of the company. A glance at Thorin told me he is fully distracted with Bifur and Oin. With Beorn placated and no longer nearby there is a comfort in the freedom of being able to move about the grounds. I leave through the same door where Beorn left earlier and enter the courtyard. All throughout the courtyard there is an array of bird houses and bee hives, housing bees of unusual size. I walk slowly, allowing the sun to heat my body. I notice that his garden conglomerates unnatural and wild elements. There are clearly some areas where he planted select fruits, vegetables, and herbs. However, the rest of it seems like the local flora had taken root in his yard.
The ivy climbs every wall, leaving it covered in a bright green mosaic. Flowers from the nearby fields we had run passed yesterday appear in patches throughout the garden. I walk along the outside of the house to the back – where Beorn had been cutting wood when we were introduced. Behind that is another gate, revealing the tree line that hides the house, along with some rolling hills. There is one paddock that houses painted horses and ponies. I approach, leaving the safety of Beorn's walls behind me. I lean against the fence post and watch them play together in tandem.
I grasp the wood as anxiety suddenly settles in me. Mirkwood lies ahead and despite Gandalf's reassurance that the elven path would be secure, I find myself siding with Beorn's doubts. I would give almost anything to spare the dwarves the pain of having to pass through the dark forest, but there is no other option. Of course there is also the promise I made to Tauriel. Even if we made it through the forest with no interference it would still weigh heavily on my heart. And even if I wasn't entirely ready to admit it, I am afraid of being caught by Thranduil. Now that I had the family I wanted I'm terrified at the thought of losing them…
Something brushes against my hand and I startle. However, I quickly realize the horses and ponies had come to investigate me. I slowly extend my hands, fingers together and palms out so that they may smell me at their leisure without fear of me. There is an intelligence in their eyes that reminds me of Wildwind; not only smart, but emotionally aware. Soon they grow bored of me and return to making merry.
I wonder how Wildwind fairs. While the elves are not my primary choice I know that they will take good care of her. I hope they take her out often. She doesn't like staying one place for too long; I bet at this point she is becoming restless. A smile graces my lips as I imagine her giving the elven handlers in Rivendell a hard time.
"Tahna?"
I look over my shoulder to see Thorin approaching me – Dwalin several feet behind him waiting at the gate. I feel apprehensive with Dwalin standing at a distance, like there's going to be trouble, but I focus on Thorin anyway.
"What are you doing out here? Beorn instructed us to remain within the courtyard. You are too far from the house," grumbles Thorin.
I feel like laughing; does Thorin realize how mothering he sounds right now? I know my condition has set him on edge and made him more cautious than I thought possible for him, but I do have limits. Protective is a natural state of being for Thorin so I remain gentle and calm in my explanation.
"I wanted some fresh air," I say placatingly.
"There is plenty of that within the walls," counters Thorin. I smother a laugh – he could be giving Dori a run for his money. He stands next to me with his arms crossed and a disapproving look on his face. I glance back over at the horses, trying to find the words.
"Beorn reminds me of Gundabad and it makes me…uncomfortable," I say honestly.
"The skin changer has left," he says. While it is a statement, the question in his voice is clear. I pull myself away from the pasture and look at Thorin. There is more in his eyes than he is willing to say. I look over at Dwalin and wonder if it is because of him, but I can't tell. The taller of the two looks back at me with a disinterested stare. I look back at Thorin, who is waiting for my answer.
"Since seeing Azog I haven't been able to stop thinking about the time I spent in Gundabad. It feels like it's haunting me. Then coming to the house of the only skin changer alive, who was also a prisoner of the Pale Orc. It just…it is overwhelming," I breathe as my hands tighten into fists. I'm not whispering, it's not like I'm trying to hide anything, but the openness is difficult for me even now. I would have thought I would be used to it by now, but it seems that this wound has never really healed.
Thorin gently takes my hand and leads me back to the gate. I follow him, despite my reservations about returning so quickly to Beorn's halls. However, he stops when we start to pass Dwalin and tells him something in the deep guttural of Khuzdul. Dwalin looks up at me only once, his face giving away nothing before turning to the house and disappearing inside without so much as a word.
"He will keep the others busy while we speak," he says. We find ourselves returning to the other door. It is barricaded and quiet, which is surprising, considering there is still a house full of dwarves beside it. Thorin offers me a spot against the door and once I am sitting he joins me. He removes a whetting stone from his pocket and begins to work on Orcrist, despite that I don't think it needs sharpening. I watch him for a few moments, allowing it to fill the silence and taking the chance to put off the inevitable.
After a few moments of silence Thorin says, "Take your time. As I said I'll wait."
His words make me smile, but it doesn't make the discomfort subside. So I try to make the situation a little more light-hearted, "I don't think Dwalin's skills of diversion are that good…"
His mouth twitches a little, but he doesn't give a response. I take a deep breath and release it. I need to get it off my chest before it consumes me. I couldn't imagine facing Azog again like this. I look over at Thorin and he doesn't seem to be looking my way, entirely focused on his sword. When I draw my eyes away I notice the flowers by my side. I pick them and twirl them between my fingers; I believe they are called rock roses. They usually frequent rockier regions than this, but then again, we are close to the mountains. The white color reminds me of the snow …
"The first heavy fall of snow for the winter covered the ground when my mother finally went into labor…"
I know that's a crappy place to end, but I had a really hard time trying to decide where to end. The flashback is a bit too long and I wanted you to see Thorin's reaction immediately so we will get the sadness out in the next chapter along with some fluff. Not to mention I'm not in the right place to write something so sad at the moment, but soon! However, I also think it's time to reveal why Balin has been acting so strange…