CHAPTER 15

I don't get much sleep; Thranduil's words keep running through my head. At some point in the night, I just decide that I won't know anything for sure until I speak to the Valar. If I can even do that anymore... If Thranduil was telling the truth, they will seek me out eventually and if not, then I'm just as happy. The King lies when it suits him but I can't think of a reason why he would in this case. I also can't think of a reason why I would still matter in the grand scheme of things. Either way, I can do nothing but wait.

In the morning, I gather up my peeps and we set off into Mirkwood again. Addasser sees us to the edge of the Kingdom but we don't need a guide much further than that. Once we pass the entrance, the forest slowly begins to chatter around us, reminding me that the trees are indeed alive. I use nearly all my available energy to get us far away from where I remember the spider nests were 60 years ago. Hopefully, the spiders have moved further south to be closer to Mount Doom and I don't have to see them. I know going around the forest is safer and I'll probably take that route on the way back but for now, I'm pulled to take the fastest path. I can't NOT go fast. It's not exactly disturbing however, I can't feel calm unless we keep moving and quickly. Urgently. Recklessly pushing forward will drain me needlessly, so after the initial push I try to limit myself. Once a day, to the annoyance of Nori, I 'jump' our small group forward 50 miles to ensure that we exit the forest in record time. I don't want to spend any more time than needed here.

Within three days of departing the Woodland Realm, we are standing on the edge of Mirkwood again, looking out into the vast plains of Beorn's land. I'm exhausted. The kids are beat. Nori is agitated but we made it. With a sigh, I step forward only to be tackled by a small black bear. It's still taller than me but not nearly as large as Beorn. I lay stunned as it shifts into the form of a naked teen of about 15. Then again, I'm horrible with ages and I have no idea how skinchangers age. I can't help but imagine Dulola calling me a pedophile again.

"Hello, Grim." I greet as Nori grips the handle of his weapon "You're far from home."

"Hello, beautiful." he replies, licking my nose "I'm showing my Da's men a little what for."

"Oh, ok."

"Would you like to be my mate?"

"Ah, no. Sorry, but I'm spoken for." the dark-haired teen lets out an annoyed sigh and glares at Nori with unbridled suspicion "Not even close, buddy."

"So your mate didn't come witcha? He clearly needs ta be replaced with someone betta."

"An' that someone is a skinchangin' brat?" Nori scoffs at the kid and folds his arms over his broad chest "Not much better if you ask me."

"It's a good thing no one asked ya then, dwarf." Grim growls back, not intimidated at all. He sits heavily on my ribs, obviously forgetting me as he argues "If ya ain't 'er mate, then ya opinion don't really matter, now do it?"

"Can you get up, please?" I don't know if I should laugh or spank the kid "This is kind of weird and extremely uncomfortable."

"Indeed. It is she who predicted your birth and is therefore nearly your mother." I tilt my head back into the earth and gaze up at my old friend with a wide grin "You are just as enticing as the day I met you, Thia."

"Hello to you too, Beorn."

Later that night

I wake with a start from my dream. A shared dream with Thorin. I let out a heavy sigh and place my hand over my racing heart. The whole shared plane and lucid dreaming is something else. Even in my sleep, I am not far from him. '... Good.' Soft breathing at my sides ground me, bringing me back to the current time and place. I'm laying in the large bed. 'Breathe.' Reaching out, I stroke Thoria and then Theodore's hair. 'Breathe.' I stare at the ceiling in deep thought and just... breathe. My fingers lightly trace the royal and kinship braids that adorn their little heads while I replay the past weeks' events over and over in my mind rather than doing the sensible thing and getting a good night's rest. This breakneck pace... It isn't all my fault. No, it's the little voice on the edge of my mind telling me that I need to keep moving, that I need to get to the Shire as soon as possible. I don't know exactly what it is. Maybe my mind or own desires but I've never felt this before. I already know many levels of 'something bad' are approaching but this anxiety is almost unnatural and unfamiliar... no... no, it's just the opposite. It's TOO natural and familiar.

I've felt it before and my hand stills as I recognize it. This anxious pull... it reminds me of how I feel when my children aren't in my immediate sight for too long: the fear that they are gone; hurting and stolen away from me for some nefarious reason. The feeling of indescribable worry is extremely misplaced and that worries me even more. I dread that it is the real 'seer' part of me warning that something I haven't planned for is approaching but there is so much that's off. Everything is all wrong. In saving those three, I must have caused some sort of ripple effect. Everyone is moving too soon. The darkness is stronger than it ought to be. Legolas, Gloin, and Gimli will all be in Rivendell nearly 20 years too early. I've no idea where Gandalf would be with everything so out of order but hopefully, he'll still be at the party. I'll be able to pull him up to speed. In addition to saving Fili, Kili, and Thorin, I've killed Tauriel, Dis, and a baby whose name no one even wants to utter. Who knows what other impacts my actions in the past are having on this future… or present now I guess. Maybe Frodo wasn't even born or his parents never died or Bilbo got married or dies early or-

"Maaamaaaa..."

I loosen my death grip on my son as he moans quietly in his sleep. My dark thoughts are clearly affecting my children's rest. Kissing their heads, I untangle myself from the twins' limbs and exit the warm bed. Careful to avoid stepping on Kiliel, I open the door and leave the guest room. Beorn's home has gotten larger, as has his family. I can hear the chorus of snores from various closed doors housing his 'Beornings'. I don't know much about skin-changers, no one does, but I'm happy my friend has created a family for himself. I wonder if I should just stay in my room but know that I shall have no rest until my mind is clear, so I shall clear it. Heading to the large kitchen with a single candle in hand, I quietly begin to take out the necessary ingredients I'll need to make a few pastries. Allowing my hands to do their thing, my mind wanders back to this afternoon.

The skin-changer welcomed us into his home with much more hospitality than he did the first time. He fawned over the twins; providing them with sweet cakes and warm milk and was even kind enough to ruffle Kiliel's hair before sending him to chop wood with Grim. Amongst the rabble of Beornings, I lost sight of Nori within minutes but I barely noticed with Beorn taking up so much of my attention. He runs a kind of orphanage of sorts. I guess that's the best way to put it. Lost children he raises into adulthood who take his word as their law. Grimbeorn is his only blood but they are all his family and I love that. The most heartwarming part was Duke getting to meet his great great great great great grand pups. 'So many butts were sniffed.' I enjoyed the calmness of the moment, knowing nothing would kill me or slander my name. It was the tranquility I had lacked since arriving back into Middle Earth; the one I expected upon my return. Even before I left there was a dragon and… Azog. I shudder as the name crosses my mind, moving closer to the fire to stave off the sudden chill in my bones.

"Your eyes appear like golden baubles when you stare into the flames."

Beorn's rumbling baritone voice snaps my spine straight in surprise as I nearly drop the tray I'm carrying. Placing a hand over my thumping heart, I exhale a relieved breath prior to glaring at him. The bear man stands shirtless and sweaty in the doorway of the kitchen; hulking arms wrapped around Grim's scrawny neck as the boy tries unsuccessfully to free himself. Beorn barely seems to notice the kid and with a shrug, I ignore it as well. 'Must be a bear thing.' The lateness of the hour notwithstanding, I know that I have not awoken either male, as sleep does not appear to be on either of their faces.

"You startled me." I admonish lightly, shaking my head

"My apologies."

"Yeah, apologi- Ouch!" my eyes follow Beorn as he comes to sit at the table, dragging his son in a headlock "Let up, will ya?!"

"I called your name however you were so deep in thought, you did not hear." settling his weight into the chair, the behemoth continues to ignore the squawking of his child "Hence, I complimented you. Women hear compliments almost as loudly as they hear insults."

"Oh, haha, very funny." rolling my eyes, I place the tray in the large oven and give the skin changer a dull look "And you are an expert on what women like now?"

"I have never had trouble knowing what a woman wants." He gives me a toothy grin of perversion "Shall I demonstrate?"

"No. Thank you, Beorn." I roll my eyes to fight the blush attempting to make a home on my cheeks. I'd forgotten how awful he could be. It's only made worse by the bear man's deep chuckle "You're soooo kind to offer."

"If you are sure. I spent many hours pleasing Grimbeorn's mother before she passed on." I open my mouth to offer my condolences but stop as Beorn shakes his head "There is nothing to console."

"But-"

"She ain't dead." Grim grunts from his father's armpit "There wasn't a need fa ha ta stick aroun' afta I grew off her teats."

"You WHAT?"

"Grew off-"

"Stop. Wha…Who taught you to speak like… that?" I've never heard anyone speak in that way in this world and it's really confusing. The boy sounds like he has a bad Italian mobster accent that I'm sure would get him killed for back home "If your mother has been gone for so long…"

"He was weaned only a year ago."

"How old..."

"He just made 13 summers." Beorn explains, understanding my question. I blink rapidly, refusing to show the grimace I mentally feel at the idea of having the preteen following around some poor woman, for years on end, demanding to be fed. I'd have run off too "The process is much longer in my race than your own."

"Whatcha mean by dat, pop?"

"Her cubs have been weaned for a year or two by now, I assume."

"Year or two?!" the skinchangling flicks his head as much as he can in the bear hug to stare intently at me "Then why're 'er teats still so big?"

"They aren't teats!" I hiss heatedly

"Just huge." he states, blatantly gawking without remorse "Must be hard having to grow 'em that large."

"They aren't!" I cry out, swiftly covering my chest

"She is correct, my son." Beorn says, coming to my aid cruelly "They have always roughly been that size."

"Beorn!" I stand corrected

"It is true."

"That isn't the point!" I turn my back on the bickering father/son pair with a grumble, peaking down at my chest. 'They AREN'T big.' In fact, I'd say they are on the most average end of average. Solid C's. It isn't my fault that most women from middle earth are built like third-grade boys. I'm horrified and wonder how often I've been walking around minding my business while some pervert in a corner is flummoxed by my bust. It's enough to make me gag "Let's... talk about something else."

"What are ya embarrassed for?" Grim asks, finally freeing his head. His big chestnut eyes shimmer in triumph "They look great on ya!"

"I'm not talking about this with a CHILD." Like father, like son.

"Hey-"

"Leave us." The simple command is more than enough to have Grim twisting around and immediately heading out the door like a good little soldier. Not even an 'aw, but daaaad' is offered. I take it as a testament to Beorn. His influence over the area and all within has naturally grown "He only jests. Now we may discuss your-"

"Oh my gosh, no!"

"Why not?"

"I've no desire to talk to you about this."

"Are we not both adults? Have we not children?" He tilts his head, causing his wild curls to become even wilder "We have both clearly engaged in our natural instincts to reproduce with our selected partner. There is nothing to be ashamed of in discussing it."

"…I'm not ashamed." He's not wrong, we are both adults, but I don't really want to talk about this. Maybe I'm immature or a prude but I'd like to keep Thorin and my activities between the two of us. Private "I just... I just don't want to talk about it."

"... I see."

"Do you?"

"Yes. Clearly, the Dwarf King is a poor lover."

"What? No-"

"No?" He places his elbows on the table, intertwines his fingers, and rests his chin on them. I know what he's doing. He likes to pick at me like the older brother I never wanted "A good one then?"

"..." My face heats and he gives me an awful smile again.

"A very good lover, it would seem."

I have no chance of beating this guy in a staring contest, especially when he has no qualms with through raunchy little questions my way. Lifting my hands in the universal sign for "I give up" I turn away and begin cleaning up while the goods bake. His laughter at my back makes me scoff but he doesn't continue to egg me on, content with his win. Some battles you just can't win. Dunking my hands into the warm soapy water, I clear my throat deliberately.

"So… Why did you name Grim, Grimbeorn? I mean, I knew you would but why did you?"

"You are the one who named him." Beorn shifts his eyes to mine curiously and I know that he knows that I'm trying to change the subject. He lightly strokes his chin and I hope that he lets me off the hook "Thus, I named my son Grimbeorn because that is who he is."

"Oh…" I shrug at the simple answer "Makes sense."

"I should hope so." he hums lightly "And why, Thia, did you name your children thusly?"

"The twins?" he nods, even though to be honest, it was obvious that he meant the twins "Well, they are modeled after our, Thorin and mine, names. Thoria for Thorin and Theodore for me, Thia."

"That much is clear." I barely turn to acknowledge Nori's statement, assuming he's been around since I got up in the first place. He doesn't like interacting needlessly and I suppose the constant company through the forest drained his social meter "Do the names mean anythin'?"

"... Yes. Theodore means 'Gift from God' and he truly is a gift." I smile, thinking of my little angels. I've never been more thankful for anything "Thoria on the other hand is a spin off... uh a variation of Thorin. Where I come from, Thorin is also a modification."

"Of?" the thief prompts

"Thor. Myth says that he was the god of Thunder. Very intimidating guy." I laugh at the faces of the males around me. Skeptical at best "They are all named for divinity."

"And you?" I sniff the air, knowing my baked goods are done before I answer Kiliel's sleepy question. I may not really understand these ovens but I can still smell "What about your name?"

"My name?" I put the finished product on the table and cover them with a cloth after quickly removing them from the pan. Pushing the dish to the center of the table for whoever wants one in the morning "Heh, It's a variation a Theia. She… well..."

"What?"

"Its funny. Um... Actually, I never thought about it but... She was said to be the goddess of light and sight."

"Light and sight?" Beorn questions but I just shrug. I knew what my name meant but I never made a connection between it and my activities on Middle Earth. Even now, its just a bit ironic. After all, I don't glow. The times I did were actually just the kids moonlighting as fireflies "That describes you quite well. You are a glowing seer, are you not?"

"Mmmm, let's chalk it up to coincidence." Grasping Kiliel's shoulders, I direct the kid back into our shared room "Good night guys."

Beorn is a flirt and Thia is just always shocked by how forward he is. Some people are just like that. Could she tell him to buzz off? Yeah, I guess. But I don't see her as a person who would set a hard boundary like that unless she thought he was putting her relationship with Thorin in danger. Most of his flirting is simply teasing her about her shyness so... meh. I like the dynamic, Beorn enjoys it, and Thia is just embarrassed