Disclaimer: J.R.R. Tolkien owns everything save for the characters not within his works.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Beorn's House

She woke to the insistent prodding of a snout in her side. Blearily opening her eyes she found that it was morning and a rather large dog sitting before her, expectantly staring down at her with annoyance in its eyes. Obviously it didn't like her ignoring it. Slowly she sat up with a yawn, smiling at the dog before holding her hand out towards it.

"Hey there," she murmured. The dog sniffed at her hand, tilting its head, before licking her face. Chuckling she scratched behind its ears before getting to her feet. The room she was in was empty, save for a few ponies that were penned and another dog, even a cat sitting lazily on a beam overhead. "Where are my companions then, hm?"

The dog barked at her before leading her from the room to a doorway that led to a larger room. Up a set of large stairs lay a massive table, around it gathered were the dwarves, eating. Gandalf sat in a corner, smoking his pipe as another man, even taller than the wizard, worked his way around the table. Nuil noted with little surprise how tall he was, or the great amounts of dark hair covering his limbs.

As the dwarves began to notice her the dog barked alerting the man, and his golden gaze was drawn to the doorway where she stood. Instantly he straightened, setting down the pitcher in his hand before walking towards her. The company turned in their seats, many eying the man warily as he stared down at her.

"Well, little one, again we meet," he said with a growing smile. "But no longer are you little. Rather a woman."

"Well met, Beorn," she replied, smiling tiredly.

"Well met, indeed!" he boomed. "You are quite taller now, little one." And she was, standing just barely at his waist. A great change from when she had been younger.

"Aye," she murmured. "And you are unchanged, I see."

He huffed. "Older, and grayer." Beorn grew serious then, looking her over carefully. "You are unharmed then?"

"Worry not, I was foolish enough to think I could sneak inside. But no harm came to me." He nodded to her, before reaching out and picking her up. He carried her towards the table and set her down in the seat beside Dwalin and Bifur.

"Eat little one, grow fat on my bread and honey."

Nuil raised a brow at Beorn, while he poured a large flagon of milk for her and set a jar of honey near her. Dwalin shifted beside her in an uncomfortable manner, while Bifur muttered in Khuzdul under his breath. Once Beorn moved away, they relaxed, only slightly. Nuil watched Beorn approach Gandalf, a dark look in his eyes as he turned to look at the table.

"You are welcome to stay here, for the time," Beorn said his eyes landing on Thorin. "So long as you harm nothing within these walls."

His golden gazed drifted to the other dwarves. "Gandalf has told me your tale, which is long and no doubt will grow longer." He paused, scowling as Oin swatted at a mouse crawling on the table. "I do not like dwarves." The company stilled as he stood behind Oin, picking up the small mouse in his large hands. "But orcs I hate more."

He turned to look at them all, cradling the mouse, while he looked to her. "Do not go outside at night. For not even these lands are safe, and I am no friend." Beorn turned and left the room, the sound of the front door opening and closing reaching their ears.

"Well!" huffed Gloin. "What does he mean, not a friend?" Several murmurs rose up.

"Beorn is no friend of dwarves," Nuil said, ignoring the glower that Gloin sent her. "He is also a skin-changer, and has little control of what he does as a bear. He only tells us to keep us safe."

"And how does he know ya, lassie?" Gloin asked, arching a brow.

At this she shifted uncomfortably. They noticed but waited expectantly for her answer. Nuil pressed her lips into a thin line, not wanting to reveal the 'how' for this was a painful area of her past. And it tied closely with what happened in Mirkwood.

"He- helped me."

"Aye, that much we gathered," Bofur said, "but we don't know why." Kili, who sat at his side, leaned forward eagerly. Nuil breathed out through her nose, somewhat irritated.

"It's hardly an easy feat for a child to travel from Erebor to the Misty Mountains, alone," she said stiffly. "Especially so close to winter."

Silence met her words, but Nuil could see the curiosity burning in their eyes. She did not share much of her past pertaining the time after Smaug took Erebor, and even less did she share of her journey back to her home beside Lake Evendim. Ori, she noted with a frown, had his book out, a quill poised above the pages. Nuil felt a surge of annoyance towards them suddenly, not wanting to let go of her past, knowing that they wouldn't understand some of it. Her memories were hers, and hers alone.

But would it not help heal the pain of the memories as well, she mused. To have them know, lifting a weight off her shoulders. As quickly as the annoyance came it left to be replaced with longing. Longing for the Company to know about how she left the mountain, for the understanding and companionship of a mutual memory.

Yet they could not know all. Not yet. Some things, if they succeeded, would be best left in the dark. Even if she did not want it to be so, they would need allies for future relations.

"When I woke," she began, her voice filling the stillness of the room, "I was in a dark mountain." They all were listening, they did not have to be looking at her for her to know they were. Every dwarrow was still, some looking as though in deep thought, a few were staring at her, or they had closed their eyes with pained expressions. She raised a hand to the right side of her face, tracing the white scar. "This, I had when I woke, a reminder . . . always . . ."

She fell silent, lost in the memory, reliving it as she spoke. "I saw the entrance, caved in with the rocks, the bodies lying about . . . there was a gap. I could fit my arm through it." Beorn's house disappeared, and she was surrounded by stone, smoke filled the air and the stench of burnt bodies filled her nose. The metal armor of the warriors had melted into their bodies, and the mountain echoed with the rumbling laughter of a dragon, somewhere deep within. She was terrified, clawing at stone, widening the gap until she could drag herself outside. The air, fresh, was only less terrible than within.

The city of men, Dale, up on its ridge, smoldered. Great columns of black smoke rose into the air. And it was barren. Not a soul could she see, not for many miles as she stumbled towards the dark line of Mirkwood. The cold air biting at her burnt flesh and sore wounds.

"I wandered for days, how many, I do not know, until I came to the forest," she murmured. Great trees rose up above her, dark and looming as she slowly walked into the woods. Nights were cold, days were dark. The trees were always whispering, and a shadow fell on her, Nuil's skin feverish as her wounds festered. Weak, unfed, alone, she continued in a daze. She called out for her family in stillness of the night, or what she thought was night.

Until she woke one day, with a clear head, in the Elvenkings halls.

Here Nuil paused, a grimace crossing her face. "They healed me, and I fled," she said looking at her plate. It was a lie of course, a needed lie. And she hated it. "I was once again taken with fever outside Mirkwood, the snows were deep, and foolishly continued on. I held to the fleeting hope that I would find my family . . . or die in the process. I think I knew they were dead, but I did not want to believe it. Beorn found me then."

The man, a giant in her eyes, had taken her in. He fed and clothed her for the winter, showing her great kindness and teaching her about his animals. For a time she forgot Erebor, and then Spring came. He came to her one day in his meadows, gazing at the mountains in the West.

"It is time, little one," he had told her. "Your heart yearns for the kin that remain." He took her to the Misty Mountains, guarding her as they made the slow journey over them, leaving once she made it to the other side. She had gone home then. Hardly stopping or resting, hiding from bandits on the roads and foraging for food in the woods. She was hardly better off when she finally reached the cottage by Lake Evendim, ill from her travels, ill in her heart.

"That is how I returned to my brothers," she finished, squashing the memory back where she had kept it. The burn of tears had filled her eyes, but she blinked them furiously away. The company gazed at her with varying expressions. Most wore a look of guilt, for not being there for her, something they had no control over. Others held pity. And sorrow.

Kili and Ori, who had seemed the most eager to hear her story were now bowing their heads and refusing to look at her. But her gaze sought out Thorin, the one that mattered most. He was not by his pillar, he was not in the room. She had not seen him go and Nuil felt a weight drop in her gut. Had he not listened? If he had, what had made him leave? Nuil turned her attention to her food, picking at it sullenly.

"Lass, I underestimated ye," Dwalin suddenly said. Nuil lifted her head to look at the dwarf beside her. "I knew ye were strong and loyal, but ye have the core of a dwarf. Endurance to the end."

"Thank you, Master Dwalin," she murmured, a hint of a smile ghosting her lips. Core of a dwarf, huh? Although she had known him for years, his approval meant the world to her. He was not one to compliment easily.

"Bâh," (friend) said Bifur, smacking her on the back. Nuil offered the dwarf a smile, touched that he would call her that.

They continued breakfast, in a slightly more somber attitude than was usual for meals, before parting ways. A majority of the company chose to go outside and practice. Nuil followed them, silently smiling as they chose a part of Beorn's meadow to use, drawing out their weapons. She watched them for a while, comforted that no one seemed too grievously injured to participate, and taking note of their skills.

But the dark tree-line soon called her attention, and she squinted to see what she could from the shadows. She was old, yes, but not so old that her eyesight had turned bad. Drawing closer to the gate, she passed the fence to stand in the field. Hardly moving she finally saw what had caught her attention.

The shine of metal in the sunlight reflected from the woods, and she could make out dark shapes. Her blood ran cold. Azog had followed them, and he was waiting for the company to leave the safety of Beorn's home and protection. They would be slaughtered the moment they journeyed on. Dread filled her at the thought of having to run all the way to Mirkwood- even beyond that. Hunted.

Nuil grit her teeth together. She didn't like the thought, being hunted. That was her role, she hunted while her prey fled. Not the other way around. It felt- wrong. It would be foolish to think that the company would fare well while being hunted. The dwarves were on foot, while the orcs rode wargs. They would be easy pickings for the orcs.

The arrival of their host met her ears, the heavy gait of a large man as his feet hit the ground and the earth crunched beneath him. He stood beside her for a moment, his gaze focused on the trees as well. A deep rumble soon reverberated from his chest.

"They wait, for you and the dwarves," he said, his voice grating.

Nuil bowed her head in acknowledgement. "Azog will not attack your home while you guard it," she said. "He would not risk the wrath of a man such as yourself."

"He will kill your friends, when they leave," Beorn told her. "Should, they pass these gates."

"Thorin would not risk their lives."

Beorn snorted. "The proud king will not be hindered in his quest to reclaim his home. Already, something stirs within him." He looked down at her, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "But he is attached to you, little one. It is my hope that his attachment will endear you to him in the dark road ahead."

Nuil lowered her eyes, trying to not think about what Beorn was saying. Or what he wouldn't say. She knew all too well the heaviness that lied in Thorin's eyes. The whispered call of the gold sickness awakening in his veins. Thorin himself feared it, she knew. Feared to become like his father and grandsire.

"But you are also changed," Beorn murmured.

Nuil raised her gaze once more, finding that the amber eyes of Beorn could see everything in a way that unnerved her greatly.

"I fell, and was granted another chance to live, to fulfill a purpose," she said.

"Strange times these are for the Valar to give life." He looked at the trees again. "But not without great cost. They are deceptive and wise to a good end, be wary little one, of what they promised you."

Nuil felt her heart clench, her thoughts turning to her dreams, of the boy. Would she ultimately lose him, despite what the Valar had given her? She had not dreamed of him since her fall and death. Mahal. She wanted Beorn to be wrong.

She found him with his back against a tree in the furthest corner of the meadow. His face was calm and she thought he was sleeping. The bruises and cuts on his face, while still fresh, looked better. Sleep made him look younger, much more relaxed. Nuil watched him from a distance before slowly making her way towards him.

The rustle of grass gave her away and his eyes opened instantly, his body tensing with anticipation until he saw her. He relaxed slightly, looking at her calmly as she came to stand before him. Now she could see the weariness on his face, the bags under his eyes, and the lines of age.

They stared at each other as the wind blew calmly and the bees floated through the air. Finally she moved to sit at his side, smiling to herself when he raised his arm and wrapped it around her, his hand resting on her hip. Pleased that he wanted to be with her, if only for the moment.

They left the next day, the orcs in the night had moved and Gandalf's frown did not go unnoticed by Nuil or Thorin. Even Balin sensed the unease of the wizard. Beorn graciously gave them fourteen ponies and a horse to help them along their way. As the dwarves bowed to their host and hoisted themselves on their ponies Beorn pulled her aside. Gandalf stepped in front of the two, blocking them from Thorin's ever watchful gaze.

"My home is open to you, little one," Beorn murmured, his voice even with purpose. "Should you ever need a friend or aid, I will not turn you aside."

"Thank you, my friend," Nuil replied.

Beorn breathed in deeply, a frown marring his brow, his hand on her shoulder clenching. "I do not wish you to continue," he murmured in a lower tone, "but you are loyal to Oakenshield. I urge you to remember that not all riches are in the stones of the earth." Nuil frowned at his words, foreboding creeping into her skin like an unwelcome friend, leaving her confused and frightened by his advice. But as abruptly as the mood had darkened, Beorn stood, smiling kindly down at her while he led her to her pony.

Then in a laughing voice he declared loudly, "and if you so choose, you may return to me, and we will have many strong children in this house!" He lifted her onto her pony as her face took on a bright shade of red and she gaped at Beorn's retreating form. Snorts filled the air, amused hoots from the company and Thorin turned a murderous glare on their host, but held his tongue.

Nuil looked up at the sky and heaved a sigh, her face cooling as Gandalf spoke with Beorn. Thorin steered his pony towards her, halting at her side with furrowed brows.

"Did he mean to make a claim on you?" he asked roughly.

Nuil hummed, "No. Perhaps to lighten the mood at my own expense." Beorn did seem rather fond of teasing, going as far to call Bilbo a 'little bunny', much to the hobbits dismay. Thorin grunted.

"Well, he will never have you." Thorin spurred his pony, calling for the others to move out. Nuil stared after him, perturbed by his words and her brow creased with worry. The way he sounded, surprised her, and unbidden Beorn's counseling words filled her thoughts.

I can honestly say that the past couple months have been insane. I've graduated (FINALLY!) and currently in search of a job so I can pay for college. I want to play college soccer but I didn't contact the coaches when I should have, and I don't think I really have a chance of playing now. So I've been moping around because I can't get any interest in regards to getting a job and I probably won't be playing soccer.

So that's partly why I've been absent. Pity partying with myself. That . . . and I really struggled with this chapter. I meant to give Beorn a larger role and for the company to stay longer but when I wrote it down it REALLY dragged. Now that I have all the time in the world I hopefully will post another chapter within the next couple of days. Let me know if Nuil's little explanation didn't make sense, I didn't really go back and edit this chapter, so there's probably a lot of mistakes.

Thank you to my amazing readers and reviewers. I know I've been a crappy author for not updating sooner, but I really do enjoy the reviews and I hope that my absence hasn't diminished your love for the story.

As always, Read and Review!

~filimeala