Chapter fourteen
By mid-afternoon, we were seeing great patches of flowers springing up all around and the same kinds were growing together, as if they had been planted. I felt a little nervous around the gigantic bees that whipped about the flowers. I had been stung when I was very young, right in the forehead and that experience, though trivial now, always made me a little anxious around the little buggers. Bilbo watched them warily, and we both moved with a faked calmness in out movements.
"We are getting near," Gandalf said. "We are in his bee pastures,"
The bees and the flowers went on for while before we reached a belt of very old oak trees. Through them, we could see a high thorn hedge that rose intimidating before us, offering no way to climb over or bash through. On closer inspection, there was a wooden gate, high and wide, in the hedge.
"You all shall wait here as I go in first –when I call or whistle, come in two at a time and leave about five minutes before the next pair comes in. Bombur is the fattest and will do for two, so he might as well go last." He waved a hand at Bilbo. "Come on Mr. Baggins! There is a gate round this way."
Bilbo looked back at me panicked as he disappeared through the gate and into the hedge. Their footsteps receded. We waited in silence. I paced forwards and backwards as Thorin tapped a finger against his belt buckle.
"Suppose the bear-man ate Mr. Gandalf and Bilbo?" Ori gasped suddenly.
Dori shushed him. "Nonsense –you heard Mr. Gandalf –the man is nice enough when not annoyed."
"But what if he was annoyed? What if he had spilled his beer on himself right before they came in? What if Bilbo accidentally knocked something over?"
More dwarves joined in telling Ori to get a grip on himself and shut up. But Kili piped up.
"What if they need our help? What if they need us to fight the animals off?"
Fili gave his brother a shove, "Stop it,"
Everyone started arguing. I was tired and hungry. I sat down on a rock and let the dwarves go at one another. Thorin hadn't even bothered to stop them.
Twwwweeeeet!
A whistle came from within the hedge.
"Told you!" Dori snapped at Ori.
"Sorry,"
Thorin nodded to me and we headed off towards the wooden gate. It was heavy and creaking as we pushed through to enter the hedge. Another gate lay ahead leading out of the hedge and it swung open well enough. The space before us was lined by barns, stables, sheds, and a long, low, wooden house and all made of unshaped logs and thatched with hay. A giant bee whizzed before my face and I jumped back as it studied me with intelligent eyes and buzzed off. Snuffling, a horse trotted up to Thorin, sniffing him curiously before cantering off. We exchanged looks, a little uneasy.
The wooden house had long wings and sort of formed a courtyard before the door of the house. A half chopped log lay in the center of the courtyard and a giant axe was buried in a chunk of wood. The blade was nearly triple the size of my head. There was a huge sight-hound, lanky and sleek waiting for us at the side of the house. It came up to me with its tail sticking straight up as it sniffed cautiously at us before motioning its head towards the back of the house and ran a circle around us before bounding down a little garden path that curved around the building. We followed it cautiously. Passing a huge bench set against the side of the log house, I wondered how large our host would be.
We were greeted by the sight of Gandalf, Bilbo and a simply giant, hairy, bearded man with bare arms and legs of knotted muscle all sitting on a wooden bench on a veranda propped up by single tree trunks in the warm afternoon sun. They saw us as we approached them. Thorin bowed as we stood before them.
"Thorin Oakenshield, at your service,"
"I don't need your service, thank you," said the giant man. "But I expect you need mine. I am not overly fond of dwarves, but if you really are Thorin, son of Thrain, and if your companion is respectable, and that you are enemies of goblins and are not up to any mischief in my lands, I will be happy to listen to the rest of your tale."
It seemed that Gandalf was luring our unwitting host to take us in two dwarves at a time by telling a good story. I almost chuckled. I debated whether to bow or to nod. I stuck out my hand. A huge hand enclosed mine and we shook heartily. My arm felt a little weak afterwards, but the man was impressed. Thorin and Bilbo gave me odd looks, but Gandalf winked at me. Men in the north usually greeted on another with a hand shake and I supposed the skin-changer was surprised to find that I knew their custom.
"I am Tallismae the Wanderer,"
"Beorn the skinchanger," he turned back to Gandalf. "Go on telling then!"
Gandalf continued telling Beorn of our travels, and he would sneak in sly references as to increase the number of dwarves in the story and then stop the tale as the dwarves came in and Beorn would brush the dwarves aside with a quick introduction and want to continue on with the story. Bombur came in with Bifur and Bofur because he was angry at being last. But Beorn was roaring with laughter as Gandalf narrated how he killed the Goblin King, so Beorn was not too worried about the thirteen dwarves who had assembled in his garden.
By the time Gandalf finished, the sun was setting.
Beorn got up and with a stretch, he said, "A very good tale! The best I have heard for a very long time. If all beggars could tell such stories, they would find me all the kinder. You may be making it all up, of course, but you deserve supper all the same. Let's have something to eat! He rumbled.
"Yes please!" we all chorused, "Thank you very much!"
.
The hall was dark and smoky and there was a long trestle table down the center of the hall. The trestle table was low enough that even Bilbo could sit comfortably at it. I supposed it was usually where the animals joined Beorn for his meal. Beorn talked to his animals in a animal sort of language and they scattered to do his bidding. Dogs came in with torches and lit the fire pit at one end of the table and the left the torches flaming in the brackets on the walls. There was a sudden sound of sheep and we all looked about, confused until little white sheep led by a black ram came trotting in with things on their broad backs. One had a folded cloth embroidered on the side with images of little animals, and others had trays with bowls, platters, knives, and wooden spoons which the dogs laid upon the table to our amazement. Beorn sat had a big low chair and he had to stick his legs out straight far out under the table and ponies brought polished sections of logs for the rest of us to sit at.
Though Beorn served no meat at his table, his cakes, nuts, honey, fruit, and vegetables were well made and we were in no position to complain. We were all so hungry that the sounds of eating were the only sounds to be heard in the hall for some time.
"Women do not travel in these parts," Beorn finally commented.
I looked up from my food reluctantly. "No, they do not. I am a little different. I have no family or home to tie me down –I wander wherever I wish to go."
"Do you not wish to settle," He crunched on a nut.
"No,"
I felt Thorin looking at me. I had wanted to once, and perhaps I still did, –now I knew that –but I had stopped myself then, and there was little I could do now to turn back time and change my decision.
"Tell me of your travels," Beorn reached for his mug of mead.
I obliged.
After I had spoken for a while, he began tales of this side of the mountains: of the North and South and especially the dark, dangerous forest of Mirkwood. It dampened our appetites a little as we realized that the danger we would face could easily become worse than what we had already went through. Beorn was getting drowsy after dinner finished and only half-listened to the dwarves speaking of smith-craft. The fire in the middle of the hall was stoked with more logs and the dogs put out the torches and the ponies moved the trestle table aside and we all rolled our seats into a circle about the fire and watched the dancing flames, exhausted and silent. I began to nod off as the dwarves began to sing softly and I only caught the familiar last verse.
It left the world and took its flight
Over the wide seas of the night.
The moon set sail upon the gale,
And stars were fanned to leaping light.
Thorin had sang that in Ered Luin once while playing his harp. I had been completely surprised that the warrior and smith could handle such a delicate instrument with such detailed skill and gentleness. His hand had brushed over the strings and the droplets of pitches cascade in a melody that lifted his voice into a molten dark baritone.
There were beds laid out on a sort of raised platform between the pillars and the outer wall of the hall and I stumbled over to one and laid down on the blankets and straw, warm and full with the memory of song and a harp in my ears.
.
.
Morning came with sunshine. I stretched luxuriously and picked the straw out of my clothes and hair before stumbling off to the well outside for a wash. Sweetly steaming, breakfast was honey cakes and milk left on the veranda.
Both Beorn and Gandalf were nowhere to be seen. With nothing to do all day, we were reduced to fretting about them. I pushed away thoughts of either of them with work. There was little I could do but guess about their whereabouts. Checking the dwarves' wounds and stitching, I found that Oin had done solid healing and everyone was well patched up. I cleaned my knife with boiling water and set to pulling out the stitches. Thorin was last. He didn't even wince when I tugged the thread out. His eyes only watched me carefully. I didn't realize my heart beating faster than usual until he had left.
Finally, when we were having dinner, Gandalf reappeared.
"Where have you been?" Gloin stood up and nearly knocked over his plate. "And where is our host?"
"One question at a time –actually none until I have had dinner! I haven't had a bite since breakfast!" Gandalf sat down resolutely.
After consuming two loaves of bread slathered in butter, honey and clotted cream and washing it down with a quart of mead, he explained how he had followed bear tracks early in the morning and had discovered the remnants of a bear council that had taken place in the night. One set of footprints led away from the meeting towards the mountains and that he followed all the way to the Carrock, but the tracks disappeared into the river and Gandalf had to walk quite a ways downstream before he could find a place shallow enough for him to wade and swim to the other side. The tracks had seemed to lead back towards the place where we had been trapped by Azog. Beorn was making sure our story was true, then. The rest of the evening passed with eating and lazing around before we all went to bed.
.
.
Beorn woke us up the next morning. "So you are all still here!" he exclaimed and picked up Bilbo by one hand, "Not eating by wargs or goblins or wicked bears, I see," he laughed and poked Bilbo in the stomach much to Bilbo's embarrassment and said, "Little bunny is getting fat again on some bread and honey –here, let's have some more!"
So we had breakfast with the giant man as he told us that he saw the place where we had been attacked and was glad to know that our story was true. He also caught a scouting warg and goblin along his way and had told him that the goblins were still looking for the dwarves and were still enraged at the death of the Great Goblin. Beorn laughed then, he was wholly impressed that we had killed the Goblin King.
"What did you do with the warg and goblin?" Bilbo asked suddenly.
"Come and see!" Beorn was in a nice mood.
The goblin's head was nailed to the gate and the warg's was nailed to a tree just beyond. Bilbo gagged discreetly. Beorn proved a fierce enemy but a trustworthy friend. Gandalf decided to tell him about the true goal of the quest. Instead of trying to stop us, Beorn promised to provide ponies for each of us to take us to the forest and he would give us enough food to last for weeks if we were careful.
I found him later in the stables packing sacks and pots and jars onto sturdy little ponies.
"May I help?" I asked.
He looked at me skeptically and said nothing. I risked it and took his silence as a yes and approached a little shaggy brown pony. The pony watched me warily, but I bowed my head towards him in greeting and gave him a friendly pat on the neck, and he snuffled happily and let me gently but firmly tie the goods onto his back. I checked the pony for discomforts from its load and it gave me a nudge on the arm in affection.
Beorn looked at me approvingly. "You have a way with animals most people do not."
"I have an ability to communicate well with different people and fit into different ways of life."
"You respected the pony as your equal. Not as a servant, nor a silly pet."
I nodded.
"Here," he handed me a saddle.
I proceed to fit it onto another pony. I could see something light in his eyes. I loved that look. The look people gave me when they realized that I would learn anything they put before me and that I would learn to love what they loved to do.
"You stayed with different peoples and learned their ways." He paused. "I would not be adverse to you staying here," I could tell that this was one thing he had probably never asked or hadn't asked for a long time.
My face broke into a smile.
.
.
I walked out of the stables with a bounce in my step. Someone grabbed my arm suddenly and pulled me to the side of a storehouse. I backed into the wall of the building as Thorin stood before me, his hand still gripping me.
"What did you say?" he asked, his blue eyes boring into mine. He almost sounded jealous. I felt bad but I relished it for a moment before replying.
"How did you hear?"
"I was going to ask Beorn about the preparations, but I overheard you," he stopped before adding, "I'm sorry."
"I sure you overheard us unintentionally," I believed him –Thorin wouldn't lie about things like that.
"You can't leave the Company," there was a note of desperation in his voice.
I was silent as I could feel his hand tighten around my arm. It wasn't a hurtful hold, it was firm and warm and it was possessing and hopelessly desolate all the same. Tightening, I found it almost hard to breathe as I felt myself being drawn to his eyes, his lips. I could see him swallow as my lips parted in longing and his eyes darkened with yearning as he raked his eyes down and up back to my face. He didn't move as I leaned down, my lips so close to his as our breaths mingled softly. I closed my eyes.
"I said no," I whispered and pulled back, breathing heavily as I pulled myself from him and left. There was no way I was going to hurt him again. It took all my resolve not to look back.