One rose-colored morning found Elsa somewhat tired, but more energized than what she might've experienced before, having trained her body to handle fewer hours of sleep. Still, she felt the temptation to doze off for a brief moment; surely the dwarves, preoccupied with packing things up from last night's break, wouldn't notice, right? But no, she told herself; Bilbo would be back from his scouting mission any time soon, and as soon as he did, they would be back on the move again.
It had been two weeks since the death of Azog, and thus far there had been no orcs, wargs, or dangers of any kind to beset the company during their descent from the Carrock. But both Thorin and Gandalf refused to allow such circumstances to slow them down, presumably out of precaution or an eagerness to reach the mountain. Thus, their meals had been light and quick (much to Bombur's disappointment), and their steps were hastened as they made their way over the mountain ridges and through these forests. For now, the company awaited Bilbo's return; Gandalf insisted that Bilbo scout out the area for enemies, citing the hobbit's natural stealth and light-footedness. Thorin had been reluctant to let Bilbo out of the group, and Elsa had felt the same way, but whether or not they shared the same reasons was another question entirely.
A short distance away, Elsa noticed Kili using a tree for target practice, having carved the crude shape of an orc into its trunk. Feeling somewhat mischievous, she flicked her finger as the young dwarf let loose an arrow; it wound up inches away from its mark, halted in midair by a wall of ice. At first, the archer was surprised, but quickly found the perpetrator and laughed; given the opportunity, he would have done something similar, she guessed.
"How am I supposed to know how to fell orcs," he asked with jest, "when you stop my arrows?"
"I don't know," she said, "something like that might happen for real."
"What, you mean ice is just going to pop out of nowhere to foil me?" he asked.
She shrugged.
The bushes started to rustle a short distance away; at the sound, everyone armed and readied themselves to meet it, until Bilbo emerged, appearing somewhat flustered.
"Tell us," Thorin said, "Did you see any orcs?"
"Nope," the hobbit panted; he seemed to have run back as fast as he could.
"See?" Gandalf said, "What did I tell you? Nothing to fear, and what more, he's as quiet as a mouse. Excellent burglar material!"
"Yes, but," Bilbo started, "I'm afraid we've got another problem."
"What is it?" Elsa asked.
"There's something else out there," the hobbit reported, "and it's LOOKING for us!"
At this, Gandalf suddenly became very solemn and serious. "What form did it take?" he asked. The others looked to the wizard, curious as to the meaning of his words. He went on, "Like a bear?"
"Yes, but much, MUCH bigger!" the hobbit said, spreading his arms to give an idea of the size of the creature.
"Then we must move," the Wizard declared, "There is a house, not far from here, where we might take refuge."
"Whose house?" Thorin asked, "Are they friend or foe?"
"Neither," Gandalf admitted, "He will help us or he will kill us."
"Then why take the risk?" Elsa asked, "Don't we have any other choice?"
A heavy roar sounded off in the distance, startling them all.
"No, we do not," said Gandalf. "Quickly now, let's move!"
At his word, the company immediately started off after him, though with no small degree of fear and confusion among them. Elsa felt no different; she wondered why, of all things, a bear would be the thing to avoid most in this place. True, she knew how dangerous a bear could be, but for someone like Gandalf to show so much concern…
It wasn't until the middle of the day and when they approached the bottom of the mountain and entered open fields where the streams began to gather into ponds and the foliage became green. After sprinting across a stream and entering a forest of ash and dogwood, Elsa felt it necessary to voice her feelings. "If it's a bear you're worried about," she said to the wizard as they jogged over tall rocks and strewn logs, "I'm sure that we can take care of it…"
"You will bring no harm upon that beast, Elsa, or you will have me to answer to," Gandalf commanded, much to Elsa's surprise.
"Why not?" asked Ori.
Gandalf started to answer, but then they heard a loud roar in the distance, followed by the sound of foliage being crushed under huge, fast-moving feet.
"He's found our scent," Gandalf said, "This way, HURRY!"
It didn't take much motivation to get everyone running; even Bombur started to pick up the pace, as the sound of the huge animal came closer and closer to them. Running down the path, they burst out of the dark forest into an open field. Up ahead, a tall, wild-looking hedge stood before them, with an open gate as its only weakness. The company, following Gandalf's lead, headed straight for it, entering a part of the property where the trees grew thick, and where stood large beehives nestled in the shade. Up ahead was a large house of stone and wood, with an open door taller than the tallest man that Elsa knew of, with a rusty old latch.
Another savage roar erupted behind them, and Elsa was foolish enough to turn and see its owner burst out of the forest; a massive bear, perhaps the biggest one she had ever seen in her life (and the only one), with thick black fur tipped with silver, broad paws with curved hooks for claws, fierce amber eyes, and long yellow teeth that it bared as it came charging towards them.
Gathering herself at Gandalf's behest, she kept on running for the door, and barely made it in time. As soon as she was in, the dwarves immediately shut the door behind her—only for the bear to ram against it, forcing the door open wide enough for it to poke it's long snout in before the combined strength of the dwarves shut the door again. Moving fast, they slid a large wooden beam into place, effectively locking the door against the beast. For a few moments, they listened in terror to the sounds of heavy growls and snuffing, of long claws being raked against wood, and then in relief as the growls slowly died away.
It took a few moments for anyone to gather the courage to speak.
"I think it's gone," Bofur declared.
"What is that?" Ori asked.
"That," Gandalf said, "Is our host."
Everyone looked at the wizard in a combination of surprised and disbelief.
"His name is Beorn," the wizard explained, "and he is a skin-changer. Sometimes he is a great strong man, and sometimes he is a huge black bear. The bear is unpredictable, but the man…can be reasoned with."
"Has someone placed him under some curse?" Elsa asked.
"The only enchantment Beorn is under is his own. Now, I have to warn you; there are two things that he is not fond of; dwarves, and uninvited guests."
"Well," Bilbo remarked, "That puts us between a rock and a hard place, doesn't it?"
"Yes; I had hoped that we would meet him in a better mood, but seeing how things are now, we will deal with that part when it comes. For now, take your rest. We'll be safe here for the night."
Elsa then looked around at their surroundings; they stood in what must have been a huge barn made entirely of unhewn stone and wood carved with intricate animal motifs, and the stone floor beneath her feet was covered in fine straw. All around them, beasts of various sorts walked around unhindered; large cattle stood calmly in the stalls while goats clopped around unhindered by dogs that gazed upwards at the travelers with intelligent eyes. Even mice scampered around the place, much to her disliking. Further down, she found that the furniture, the most prominent being a table flanked on all sides by a pair of chairs and benches standing in front of a vast fireplace, were all clearly built for someone much taller and larger than the average man. She wondered then, having seen the bear, what was the man like?
Night fell upon the house of Beorn, and everyone was fast asleep in beds of straw—all except for Elsa. She was restless again, though she did not know why. It certainly wasn't their current circumstances, she could say that much. It was something else.
Standing up, she carefully treaded over the sleeping dwarves, while also watching out for any stray mice, and tip-toed her way over to the nearest window. She peered outside, seeing the countryside, the dark forest, and the mountains beyond bathed in moonlight—but no bear was to be seen.
You've come a long way, haven't you? A familiar voice said. Elsa turned to see her sister, or rather, the vision of her sister. She turned away.
Elsa, what's wrong? The vision asked, but Elsa refused to reply. Why won't you talk to me? Is it something I said?
"I'm not going to succumb to madness by speaking to a figment of my imagination," Elsa said quietly. The vision seemed hurt. Feeling guilty, Elsa added, "Look, I thank you for getting me on to the road, I really am. Just please, let me be…I don't need you to push me forward."
It's not that, the vision said, You're doing a great job at that. I was just hoping we could talk for a bit.
"Talk about what?" Elsa asked.
Well, the vision started, how about…what are you going to do when you're done? With the quest, I mean.
"Actually," Elsa admitted, "I haven't thought about that at all."
Maybe you could come back to Arendelle? The vision suggested.
The window pane beneath Elsa's arm became covered in frost. "I can't do that. You know I can't. We've already discussed this."
Come on, Elsa…
"Even if I wanted to, it's impossible."
But Elrond talked about those special jewels, right?
"He also said they were probably a myth."
No he didn't. Besides, you've been running around with a wizard and a bunch of dwarves to go fight a fire-breathing dragon and fighting monsters all the way. I think that stretches the definition of impossible just a little bit.
"I'm not going back, and that's final. Besides, Arendelle's safer without me being around."
Actually, about that…the vision started.
Wood creaked somewhere. Elsa turned around, but the vision was gone again. She looked around in the dark, but saw no one else. Sighing to herself, she started back to where she had been sleeping—but stopped in her tracks.
There lay Bilbo where she had last seen him, his back turned to her. He seemed to be fiddling something around in his hands, but she couldn't see what…
Suddenly, there was the sound of wood creaking. Elsa held still for a moment, waiting to see if anything else were to happen. Had Beorn returned?
Nervously, Elsa moved away from her hiding place, and saw nothing. Feeling assured, but still on high alert, she made her way back to her bed, wanting some sleep.
The next morning came, it's light stirring Elsa out of her fitful sleep—along with the enormous bee that came buzzing by and made an attempt to land on her head. Mildly surprised, she shooed it away with a small flicker of frost, and found that she lay alone on the bed of hay—only Bilbo could be seen.
"Morning," she said to him.
"Where'd everyone go?" Bilbo asked.
However, the noise of arguing dwarves answered their question, and guided them to the back door, where they found the rest of the company nervously gathered together, with Gandalf standing near the open exit, and Bofur standing at the window. Outside, she heard the thwack of a large axe splitting wood apart, one after the other.
"I say we should leg it," Nori said, "and slip out the back while we still can."
"I'm not running from anyone," Dwalin growled, "beast or no."
"There is no point in arguing," Gandalf said, "We shall need his assistance. Ah, Bilbo, Elsa, there you are," he said as she came up. "This will require some delicate handling, so we must tread very carefully; the last person to have startled him was torn to shreds."
Elsa couldn't believe what she had just heard. Why was it that almost every person they met on this journey wanted to kill them? For once, and only to an extent, she sided with Nori.
"I will go first," Gandalf said, "And Bilbo; you'll come with me, as will you, Elsa."
Once more, Gandalf's plan seemed like insanity to Elsa, but she came with Bilbo anyway, some inkling of faith stirring within her.
"Is—is this a good idea?" Bilbo asked.
"Yes. Now the rest of you will wait here, and don't come out until I give the signal," Gandalf said.
"Right," said Bofur, "Wait for the signal."
"And no sudden movements or loud noises, or you'll overcrowd him. Only come out in pairs," Gandalf said as he started to turn—only to step back in and say, "Actually, Bombur…you count as two, so you should come out alone."
The hefty Bombur only nodded as he munched on a carrot.
"Remember, wait for the signal," Gandalf reminded them before leading Bilbo and Elsa out the door and into the open, walking past a flock of black hens that pecked and scratched in the dust, a feeding pig and a reclining sheep along the way. A short distance off, against the backdrop of a wide field of brown and white horses frolicking about with the forest and the mountains further back behind them, there stood a man taller than any man Elsa had ever seen in her young life. He wore only a pair of rough brown trousers and no shirt, showing off powerful, sinewy muscles that were nevertheless partly concealed by a long mane of grey-tinged hair running down his back. The man stood before a large hewn log, upon which he placed a far smaller piece of wood and split it into two with an intimidatingly large axe that, Elsa suspected, had not always claimed trees as its primary victims in its past.
She looked over at Gandalf for some sign of confidence she could lean on, but even in him there lay evidence of anxiety, if not outright terror, as he took off his pointed hat and slicked back his hair.
Bilbo noticed this, and was quick to verbally point it out. "You're nervous!" he said.
THWACK went the man's axe.
"What? Nervous? Nonsense," Gandalf grumbled.
"It's alright," Elsa whispered, "Just don't let it show."
Gandalf didn't seem to outright acknowledge this, but he did put on a friendly smile. "Good morning!" he said to the man.
THWACK went the man's axe again, and Elsa found herself having to stand behind Gandalf, along with Bilbo.
"Good morning…" Gandalf said again, somewhat louder, this time.
The man heaved and laid the blade of the axe against the chopping block, but did not turn to face them. "Who are you?" he growled.
"I am Gandalf," the wizard said as he gently bowed, "Gandalf the Grey."
The man turned around to face them, and just past the strands of Gandalf's silver hair, Elsa noticed the wild, thick beard that he grew, the strange shape the bridge of his nose took, and more importantly, the fierceness that lay in those brown eyes of his. She also saw, to her surprise, the metal cuffs turned a reddish brown by the years clasped upon his wrists, and the scars upon his chest as well.
"Never heard of him," Beorn growled.
"I'm a wizard," Gandalf explained, "Perhaps you've heard of my colleague, Radagast the Brown. He resides in the Southern Borders of Mirkwood."
"What do you want?"
"Well, simply to thank you for your hospitality!" the wizard answered, "You may have noticed that we took refuge in your lodgings here, last night." As he spoke, he gestured towards the house and unexpectedly exposed Elsa and Bilbo to Beorn's view.
"Who is this little fellow," Beorn said, tightening his grip upon the axe, "and the girl?"
"Oh, well this would be Mister Baggins of the Shire," Gandalf said, nudging them forward, "and Miss Elsa of Arendelle." In spite of the unease she now felt in the view of the giant, Elsa did her best to gently smile and curtsy.
Beorn's attention seemed to be on Bilbo, however. "He's not a dwarf, is he?" Past his lips, Elsa saw that his two pairs of canine teeth were, to be honest, a bit more fang-like than they should have been.
"Why, no!" Gandalf assured him, "He's a hobbit; good family, and of an unimpeachable reputation."
"A Halfling, a human girl, and a wizard," Beorn observed, "How come you here?"
"Oh, well the fact is that we've had a bad time of it from goblins in the mountains," Gandalf explained.
"What did you go near goblins for?" Beorn asked, "Stupid thing to do."
"You are absolutely right…" Gandalf said, waving his hand up and down. The rest of what he said, however, was lost on Elsa, as her attention was drawn elsewhere by the sound of tromping boots. She turned and saw Dwalin and Balin stepping down from out of the house, where they stood and introduced themselves by name, only. She turned back to see Beorn holding the axe firmly within his own hands, as if ready to fend them off by any means.
"I must confess that, um, several of our group are in fact dwarves," Gandalf admitted, slightly stumbling over his words and looking very worried.
"Do you call two several?" Beorn said.
"Well, when you put it that way…erm…well there could be more than two," Gandalf said as he counted his fingers—but then at that, Óin and Glóin came running out and hastily bowing towards the great man.
"Oh, and here are some more of our happy troop!" Gandalf said, trying to make the situation seem less than what it was.
"And do you call six a troop?" said Beorn, clearly growing more and more agitated, "What are you, a traveling circus?"
All Gandalf could do was chuckle nervously.
Already, Elsa started to have flashbacks to the Goblin Tunnels, in the court of the Goblin King, and it seemed to her that this meeting would turn out similarly to that.
Just then, Ori and Dori came out of the house as well, bowing and offering their service along with their names, which Beorn promptly refused.
"Absolutely understandable," Gandalf said, but before he said anymore, Fili and Kili soon came out—followed promptly by Nori, Bofur, Bifur, and finally Bombur, much to Gandalf's shame as he listed them off by name.
"Is that it?" Beorn asked, "Are there any more?"
From behind the doorpost, Thorin himself came out at long last. Upon him, Beorn seemed to focus his attention most of all.
At first, Elsa felt sure that bad things would follow, but shortly afterwards, Beorn put on a vest of rough brown fabric and treated the company to a breakfast of nuts, berries, and crushed grains as huge bees buzzed around them, and mice crawled all over the table, but carefully enough not to enter the large bowls and plates. The skin-changer had been kind enough to give Elsa one of his chairs as a seat, but even then she felt like a very small child, using such oversized ware. It must have been even stranger for the dwarves and the hobbit. During the meal, Gandalf told them of their mission, and all that had happened up until then. When they got to the part about Azog's demise, Beorn seemed to pay special attention. "My people were the first to live in the mountains," he explained, "before the orcs came from the north. The Defiler killed most of my family, but some he enslaved, not for work mind you, but for sport. Caging skin-changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him."
"There are others like you?" Bilbo asked.
"Once there were many," Beorn replied, "Now there is only one."
The huge man sat down in his equally enormous arm chair. "You have done a great deed, Oakenshield, by destroying the Defiler. But that will not ease your journey; there are others of his ilk, others that share his thirst for revenge." He then turned to Gandalf. "So, you need to reach the mountain before the last days of autumn."
"Before Durin's day," the wizard replied, "Yes."
"You are running out of time."
"Which is why we must go through Mirkwood."
"A darkness lies upon that forest," Beorn warned. He went on to tell them of foul things that crept within the branches of the trees, of growing numbers of orcs that gathered at a place called Dol Guldur, and of a mysterious 'Necromancer' that ruled the place. The more and more the skin-changer spoke of all that went on in Mirkwood, the less Elsa desired to step foot in there.
"I would not go in that forest," Beorn concluded, "unless it was of dire need."
"We will take the elven road," Gandalf replied, "That path is still safe."
"Safe? The Wood Elves of Mirkwood are not like their kin," Beorn said, "They are less wise, and more dangerous."
At this remark, Bofur leaned over to Elsa and whispered, "Definitely not angels."
"But it matters not," Beorn continued, "These lands are crawling with orcs, and their numbers grow by the day. You are on foot; you will never reach the forest alive."
He stood up from his armchair and slowly walked over to the other side of the table, plucking a mouse that Dwalin had brushed off from the table. "I don't like dwarves," he growled, "They're greedy, and blind to the needs of those whom they deem worth less than their own."
Elsa found herself looking across at Thorin for some reason, and felt that their quest had ended too soon.
The Skin-Changer spoke again.
"But I hate orcs even more. What do you need?"
Two hours later, and the company had departed from the house of the skin-changer, with fresh supplies in their sacks and astride Beorn's white and brown horses, riding over the rolling hills so smoothly that Elsa could've sworn they were in fact flying across the landscape. Still, it couldn't compare to the actual sensation of flight that she had felt weeks earlier. Before they left, however, Beorn and Gandalf had stood afar off discussing something—but what it had been, Elsa could not tell.
Before they knew it, they had come across Mirkwood itself—and Elsa did not like the look of it at all. The trees here seemed twisted, even malformed, and the brush inside was wild and tangled, even for forest underbrush. Beyond that, the leaves of the trees seemed to block out any light, making the inside seem darker than night itself.
Gandalf dismounted his horse and walked over to the remains of a stone gate, the style of which reminded Elsa of that of Rivendell. "The Elven Gate," he said, "Here lies our path through Mirkwood." He indicated the path by pointing his staff towards some worn and weathered stones on the ground, and then instructed the company to start letting the horses loose, explaining that they would return to their master.
Dismounting her horse, Elsa got a better look at the forest, for better or worse. She could hear no birds other than the cawing of crows, and a faint smell of death and decay came with a small breeze. Bilbo stood next to her, and viewed the forest clearly with the same feelings as she did.
"Is there no other way around this place?" she asked.
"Well, if you want to travel two hundred miles to the north," Gandalf answered, "or two hundred miles to the south…"
That made it clear to her that there was no other way. She looked down at the hobbit next to her.
"Are you afraid to go in there, too?" she asked him.
"Well…" the hobbit replied, "Maybe a little bit. But surely we've managed to get through worse, right?"
"Right," she answered, feeling slightly more confident.
"Not to mention we've got Gandalf with us," he added, "So what's the worst that could happen?"
Just then, Gandalf, moving away from the Elven gate, shouted to the dwarf that had started unbridling his horse, "Don't touch that one! I need him."
Everyone looked at the wizard in surprise and despair. "Where are you going?" Thorin asked.
"There is business to the south that I must take care of," Gandalf explained, "Urgent business."
"So, you're just going to abandon us?" Bilbo asked.
"I would not leave you all if I didn't have to," the Wizard said to him, and Elsa could sense the sincerity in his words. But still, what was so urgent to make the wizard leave the party at this time?
The wizard lingered for a moment on the hobbit, concern wrinkling his brow. "Something's different about you, Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf then said, "You're not the same hobbit as the one I first met, not the same hobbit that left the Shire."
The hobbit shifted uncomfortably and stuck his hands in his pocket. Elsa's thoughts then turned back to the night before, when she had seen him fiddling with…whatever it was that he had.
"I-I was going to tell you," Bilbo stammered, "I found something in the Goblin Tunnels."
"What did you find?" Gandalf asked quietly.
After a long pause, Bilbo answered, "My courage!" Elsa, however, as much as she wanted to, didn't seem to quite believe him. However, the answer seemed good enough for the wizard. "Good, very good," he said, "You'll need it."
Then Elsa moved to speak with him. "Gandalf," she said, "Please, promise that you'll come back."
"Of course, Elsa," the wizard replied. Leaning in closer, he whispered to her, "And you promise me that you'll look after these dwarves. Sometimes it seems like I can never leave them alone without them getting into trouble."
She nodded reluctantly. Rain, meanwhile, began to fall, but around her it turned to pelting bits of ice.
He then climbed onto his horse, saying to the dwarves, "I will meet you on the Overlook, on the slopes of Erebor. Keep the map and key safe, and do not enter that mountain without me."
That last part he said to Thorin in particular.
"This is not the Greenwood of old," the Wizard continued, "There is a stream in the woods that carries a dark enchantment. Do not touch the water. Cross only by the stone bridge. The very air is heavy with illusion; it will seek to enter your mind to lead you astray, but do not, I repeat, DO NOT step off the path. If you do, you will never find it again." And with that, he said his farewells, and the company watched as he rode away into the south, becoming smaller and smaller in the distance until they could distinguish him no more.
Elsa turned to look into the entrance of the forest; had the darkness in those trees grown stronger? "He's going to come back, right?" she asked.
"He's had a pretty good track record, thus far," observed Fili.
Thorin then spoke, "Alright, let's get moving. Everyone stay together." With great reluctance, the company then followed their leader into Mirkwood; Elsa took a brief moment to look at the light for one last time, before stepping into the forest.