AN: So this is a longer chapter and there are some dialogue from the Hobbit. I really liked this scene from the book where the dwarves are introduced slowly to Beorn and wanted to have that captured. I wished it had made it into the movies (I knw its on the director's cut but you know what I mean.) Anyway please enjoy, I can't take credit to this amazing universe, but am thankful it exists.
P.S if you're enjoying this please leave a review and let me know. But no pressure to do so. Please enjoy
—
Chapter 8: Beorn
As the first rays of dawn painted the sky with a golden hue, Daeron gradually awakened from his slumber. His body felt stiff and ached from the previous day's hardships, but his mind was refreshed and focused. He rose from his resting spot, stretching his weary limbs, and took a moment to appreciate the serene beauty of the morning. He enjoyed the quietness and the cool morning breeze that caressed his face.
Daeron made his way back to the camp, where the dwarves had already assembled. The scent of a light breakfast hung in the air, evidence of their resourceful nature and the necessity of conserving their limited rations. Gandalf stood at the center of the group, his eyes scanning the surroundings as if he sensed the urgency to resume their journey.
"Good morning, Daeron," Gandalf greeted him, his voice carrying a sense of purpose. "We must be on the move again. We have quite a distance to cover before reaching our next destination."
Daeron nodded in understanding, his gaze shifting from Gandalf to the assembled company. Memories of last night's conversation with Gandalf ringing in his ears. How much distance had they put between themselves and Azog? Daeron shuddered at the thought of being hunted, normally it was him doing the hunting. The dwarves were visibly weary, their faces etched with lines of exhaustion and determination. Bilbo was yawning profusely, rubbing his eyes as they quickly ate their meal and began to pack up their supplies. Gwaihir had provided the company with additional meat that the dwarves had smoked the night before, as well as wild berries that grew along the mountainside at this time of year.
"Keep caution brave travelers," Gwaihir had said as they prepared to leave, "The road is treacherous and filled with perils. Your pursuers haven't been spotted so far, they know to keep their distance, but once you leave the confines of our sanctuary they will show themselves."
"Thank you for your hospitality my dear friend." Gandalf said bowing his head respectfully. Daeron, Bilbo and the Dwarfs followed suit.
"May you succeed in your quest." Gwaihir said returning the bow, "Until next we meet."
The company set off at a leisurely pace, descending the mountain and venturing into the wooded forest below. The trees stood tall and proud, their branches forming a canopy that filtered the sunlight, casting a dappled glow upon the forest floor. Daeron marveled at the beauty of nature that surrounded them, the symphony of birdsong and the gentle rustle of leaves filling the air. It reminded him a lot like the forests around Rivendell. For several moments Daeron could cast his anxiety aside, the fear of Azog became a distant thought.
"What does a ranger do?" Bilbo asked curiously.
Daeron looked down at the hobbit and noticed Bilbo's hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
"Mainly just keep watch and occasionally skirmish with orcs in the north." Daeron replied, "We've sworn to keep the north safe as long as possible. To keep the free peoples safe from the evil that plagues some place."
"That sounds dangerous, do you ever wish you were doing something else?"
Daeron grew solemn, "Sometimes, I've had to watch countless friends die. Spent many nights out in the cold and rain, half starving but it's all worth it. I swore an oath, one that I intend to keep till either we destroy them once and for all or the Valor calls me home. Plus I owe it to some…" his voice trailed off, his mind wandering to his parents who had died all those years ago. His mind also went to Strider, wandering if he'd ever see his friend, brother and king take his rightful place in Gondor. He understood his hesitancy to seek power, he knew the story all too well.
"I wish I was that brave." Bilbo said wishfully.
"But you are Master Bilbo," Daeron said, "I don't know many who would manage to escape Goblin town all on their own. Nor leave the comforts of their home to help strangers reclaim their homeland. That's not something just ordinary people do, besides if you ever find yourself doubting your place remember that Gandalf chose you as a member of the company. He may not tell you why but he has his reasons."
Bilbo beamed up at the ranger with gratitude before returning to take in the wanders around them. As they ventured deeper into the forest, worry returned to Daeron, this was unknown territory. He didn't know where Gwaihir's territory ended but they had to be close to leaving. His keen senses remained alert, ever watchful for any signs of danger. Gandalf's warning still played in his mind. There were many unanswered questions still plaguing his mind but he knew better than to doubt Gandalf. Gandalf, ever vigilant, guided them through the forest, his knowledge of the land serving as their compass. He led them with a steady hand, navigating the winding trails and ensuring they always stayed on course. They rested every once in a while, allowing them to drink and refill their water skins from the fresh cool water that flowed from the misty mountains. There were still no clear signs of dangers which allowed Daeron to relax slightly, though his hand rested ever on his sword.
They halted and gathered in a small open space, engaging in a discussion about their next course of action.
"Firstly, I must apologize for the recent hardships. My intention was to guide us safely above the Misty Mountains, rather than through them. Nonetheless, we all managed to make it through," Gandalf admitted. He glanced at the group, and they all nodded in agreement.
Daeron overheard a few dwarves grumbling about how Gandalf could have left Rivendell with them.
"If I had joined you then, I wouldn't have been able to delay Saruman and buy you time to distance yourselves from Rivendell... Master Dwalin," Gandalf replied, his annoyance evident. "Regardless, we need to replenish our supplies and find alternative means of transportation. Our journey has become more perilous since our encounter with Azog, especially now that he has wargs aiding him. There is someone in this area who should be able to assist us."
"Should?" Thorin asked skeptically.
"Yes, should," Gandalf affirmed. "He is a remarkable individual. When I introduce you to him, you must all be exceedingly polite. I plan to introduce you gradually, two by two, to avoid annoying him. Believe me, you do not want to witness his anger. However, if you treat him with respect, he can be quite accommodating."
"Couldn't you find someone with a more agreeable temperament? Who is this person, and is he safe?" the dwarves grumbled.
"If you must know more, his name is Beorn. He possesses great strength and has the ability to change his physical form," Gandalf replied, slightly irked.
"What do you mean by 'change his form'?" Bilbo inquired, echoing the curiosity of some of the dwarves.
"He can transform himself into a massive black bear or a robust man with black hair, immense arms, and a magnificent beard," Gandalf explained. "I cannot provide more details, but that should suffice. Some claim he is descended from the ancient bears that once roamed these mountains before the giants arrived. Others believe he descends from the earliest inhabitants of this region, predating Smaug, the dragons, and the goblins. He is not someone you should be asking prying questions. Nonetheless, he is not under any enchantment but his own. He resides in an oak-wood and possesses a grand wooden house. As a man, he tends to cattle and horses, which are almost as extraordinary as himself. They serve him and communicate with him. He does not consume them nor does he hunt or eat wild animals. He keeps numerous hives of formidable bees and sustains himself mainly on cream and honey. As a bear, he roams far and wide." Gandalf paused. "All will be revealed once we arrive, but remember, be polite."
They resumed their journey, this time with greater speed. The trees started to thin out, allowing more sunlight to penetrate the area. Daeron found himself lost in thought. A skin-changer—tales of such beings were prevalent in ancient times, but they seemed distant and almost mythical now. He wondered if the orcs would heed Beorn, if he had lived here for a long time surely they knew better than to trifle with him.
In the middle of the afternoon, they noticed patches of flowers blooming all around them. The flowers were grouped together as if intentionally planted. The air buzzed, whirred, and droned with the activity of bees.
"We are getting close," Gandalf remarked. "We are nearing his bee-pastures."
After a while, they reached a belt of tall, ancient oaks, followed by a high thorn-hedge that was impenetrable, offering safety and security to whatever lay on the other side.
"You had better wait here," said the Gandalf to the dwarves; "and when I call or whistle begin to come after me—you will see the way I go—but only in pairs, about five minutes between each pair of you. Bombur is fattest and will do for two, he had better come alone and last. Come along Bilbo and Daeron! There is a gate somewhere round this way." And with that he went off along the hedge taking the frightened hobbit and the cautious ranger with him.
They soon came to a wooden gate, high and broad, beyond which they could see gardens and a cluster of low wooden buildings, some thatched and made of unshaped logs: barns, stables, sheds, and a long low wooden house. Inside on the southward side of the great hedge were rows and rows of hives with bell-shaped tops made of straw. The noise of the giant bees flying to and fro and crawling in and out filled all the air.
Gandalf and Daeron pushed open the heavy creaking gate and went down a wide track towards the house, with Bilbo walking between the two. Daeron took in the sights, it was marvelous and unlike anything he'd ever seen before. Some horses, very sleek and well- groomed, trotted up across the grass and looked at them intently with very intelligent faces; then off they galloped to the buildings.
"They have gone to tell him of the arrival of strangers," said Gandalf.
Soon they reached a courtyard, three walls of which were formed by the wooden house and its two long wings. In the middle there was lying a great oak- trunk with many lopped branches beside it. Standing near was a huge man with a thick black beard and hair, and great bare arms and legs with knotted muscles. He was clothed in a tunic of wool down to his knees, and was leaning on a large axe. The horses were standing by him with their noses at his shoulder.
"Ugh! here they are!" he said to the horses. "They don't look dangerous. You can be off!" He laughed a great rolling laugh, put down his axe and came forward.
Daeron eyed the man approaching him. While he was comforted by the fact that the man had left his axe, a sign of at least not killing them immediately, though given the stature of Beorn, Daeron highly doubted he'd need it to kill them if he wanted. His hand subconsciously slipped to the hilt of his blade. He didn't sense any danger yet but if he really was as temperamental as Gandalf had said one never knew.
"Who are you and what do you want?" he asked gruffly, standing in front of them and towering tall above Gandalf. Daeron felt small compared to Beorn, he could ripe me to shreds if he wanted Daeron thought, shuddering slightly at the thought.
"I am Gandalf,"
"Never heard of him," growled the man. "And what's this little fellow?" he said, stooping down to frown at the hobbit with his bushy black eyebrows.
"That is Mr. Baggins, a hobbit of good family and unimpeachable reputation," said Gandalf.
Bilbo bowed, "At your service," he said politely.
"And who's this other person?" Beorn said, rising to his full height and eyed Daeron wearily, as his eyes fell on the sword at Daeron's waist.
Gandalf nodded his head encouragingly and Daeron swallowed before finding his voice, "I am Daeron, a Dunedain, son of Lord Elrond of Rivendell. Your humble servant." he dipped his head politely out of respect and reverence. Indicating that he had paid attention to the proper etiquette required for paying respect, that his father Lord Elrond had insisted he'd be taught by his tutor.
Beorn nodded his head back at Daeron, "Very well, I've heard of your kind before."
"I am a wizard," continued Gandalf. "I have heard of you, if you have not heard of me; but perhaps you have heard of my good cousin Radagast who lives near the Southern borders of Mirkwood?
"Yes, a strange but friendly person. I used to see him now and again," said Beorn.
"Well, now I know who you are, or who you say you are. What do you want?"
"To get some more supplies and find a way through Mirkwood before we continue on our journey. You see we lost quite a bit when we encountered a lot of goblins in the Misty Mountains.
"Goblins?" said the big man less gruffly. "What were you doing near them nasty creatures?"
"We did not mean to." Gandalf said rather sheepishly, "My companions were taken by surprise and found themselves in the custody of the goblins. It's a rather long tale, truth be told."
"Then you had better come inside and tell me some of it, if it won't take all day," said the man leading the way through a dark door that opened out of the courtyard into the house.
Following him they found themselves in a wide hall with a fire-place in the middle. Though it was summer there was a wood-fire burning and the smoke was rising to the blackened rafters in search of the way out through an opening in the roof. They passed through the dim hall, lit only by the fire and the hole above it, and came through another smaller door into a sort of veranda propped on wooden posts made of single tree-trunks. It faced south and was still warm and filled with the light of the westering sun which slanted into it, and fell golden on the garden full of flowers that came right up to the steps.
Here they sat on wooden benches while Gandalf began his tale, "I was trying to catch up to a friend or two with Daeron here, they had crossed the Misty Mountains without us..."
"Or two?" Beron asked curiously, "I can only see Mr Baggins here."
"Oh right of course, truth be told I didn't want to impose and bother you with a lot of us. I will give a call if it's not too much trouble."
"Very well."
So Gandalf gave a long shrill whistle, and presently Thorin and Dori appeared and bowed respectfully, after recovering from their shock at seeing the towering giant.
"One or three you meant, I see!" said Beorn. "But these aren't hobbits, they are dwarves!" He raised a suspicious eyebrow at Gandalf.
"Thorin Oakenshield, at your service! Dori at your service!" said the two
dwarves bowing again.
"I don't need your service, thank you," said Beorn, "but I expect you need mine. I am not overly fond of dwarves; but if you are Thorin, then you must be The Thorin Oakenshield. I have heard of you. You are in the company of a respectable wizard and a ranger, and if you've had trouble with the goblins then I guess you aren't up to anything sinister. Though it is rather suspicious why you are in these parts. "
"They are on their way to visit the land of their fathers, away east beyond Mirkwood," put in Gandalf, "and it is entirely an accident that we are in your lands at all. As I was saying Daeron and I were trying to catch up to them and while they had camped for the night on the highpass, they were captured by the goblins. Daeron and I had just reached their camp site when we noticed we couldn't find several of our companions."
"Do you call three several?" Beorn interrupted.
"Well, no. As a matter of fact there were more than two."
"Where are they? Killed, eaten, gone home?"
"Well, no. They don't seem all to have come when I whistled. Shy, I expect. You see, we are very much afraid that we are rather a lot for you to entertain."
"Go on, whistle again! I am in for a party, it seems, and one or two more
won't make much difference," growled Beorn.
Gandalf opened his mouth to whistle when Nori and Ori came around the corner.
"Nori at your service, Ori at..." they began; but Beorn interrupted them.
"Thank you! When I want your help I will ask for it. Sit down, and let's get on with this tale, or it will be supper-time before it is over."
"We arrived and there was no sign of them, just a large hole in the ground," went on Gandalf, "Everything was gone, even our troop of ponies—"
"Troop of ponies? What were you—a caravan? Or were you carrying lots of goods? Or do you always call six a troop?"
"O no! As a matter of fact there were more than six ponies, for there were more than seven of us—and well, here are two more!"
Just at that moment Balin and Dwalin appeared and bowed low and respectfully. Offering their kind host their service should he ever need it. Daeron saw confusion and slight frustration visibly on Beorn's face and he wondered if Gandalf had overestimated his plan to slowly introduce their company. It was evident that Beorn wasn't overly fond of guests but the giant seemed intrigued by Gandalf's story and that was a saving grace.
"Troop was right," Beorn said
"Now go on again!" said Beorn to the wizard.
"Where was I? So Daeron and myself gathered our courage and ventured down into the dark and eventually caught up with our companions. I cast a large spell blinding our foe allowing Daeron to cut them free."
"Good!" growled Beorn. "It is good being a wizard, then."
"— A battle and skirmish erupted and we made a run for it. I managed to kill the Goblin King and they gave chase. I wasn't sure whether or not a dozen of us could make it out alive…?"'
"A dozen! That's the first time I've heard nine called a dozen. Or are there more of you still waiting to introduce themselves?"
"Well, yes, there seem to be a couple more here now—Fili and Kili, I believe," said Gandalf, as these two now appeared and stood smiling and bowing.
"That's enough!" said Beorn. "Sit down and be quiet! Now go on, Gandalf!"
So Gandalf went on with the tale, how they continued running and fighting their enemy till they eventually made it out, only to discover that they had lost Bilbo in the chaos of everything
"There were only fifteen of us left!"
"fifteen! That's more people than are currently in this room."
"Well, of course you haven't seen Oin and Gloin yet."
Beorn shook his head as two more dwarves arrived. He waved them to a seat and Gandalf continued the story, about being chased up trees and the Azog the defiler and how they began to set fire to the trees and their horrid chant
"Sixteen birds in five fir-trees…"
Beorn shook his head, "Gandalf the goblins however foul and troublesome they are, can count. Therefore there are still three people in your company unaccounted for."
"There were Bifur and Bofur as well. I haven't ventured to introduce them before, but here they are."
"And me!" gasped Bombur puffing up behind.
"Ah all are here now. Please finish the story." Beorn said, leaning in to get closer to Gandalf.
Gandalf continued their tale, how Thorin tried to fight Azog and how another fight broke out and how the eagles swooped in at the last moment, when all seemed lost. As he continued telling their adventure, Daeron noticed that Beorn was listening intently, his eyes lighting up by Gandalf's words and account that seemed a bit more glamorous than he'd remembered the events. But it was at that moment that he realized the wisdom in Gandalf's plan. Beorn clearly liked a good tale and the interruptions allowed Beorn to be more accepting of the ever increasing party so that he could finish the story.
"So that's how we ended up here seeking help." Gandalf said concluding the tale.
"Hmm an interesting tale, you are all certain brave to go through that rough ordeal." Beorn said, "Come rest for the evening, tomorrow we can talk more about how to cross Mirkwood. Seems like you could all use a good night's rest and some proper food."
Beorn clapped his hands and several large dogs came inside and Beorn communicated with them in a strange language that they hadn't heard before. In a short while they moved back inside the house and there on large wooden tables, was laden with all sorts of food, different cheeses and bread, wild honey and fresh exotic vegetables and plenty of ale. They all sat down and began to feast on the rich food.
Beorn in his deep rolling voice told tales of the wild lands on this side of the mountains, and especially of the dark and dangerous wood, that lay outstretched far to North and South a day's ride before them, barring their way to the East, the terrible forest of Mirkwood. As they talked, Thorin shared his true purpose with Beorn about reclaiming Erebor and restoring her to her former glory. Beorn seemed interested in the idea but he grew distant at the talk of wealth and gems that lay beneath the mountain. Beorn asked Bilbo about the Shire, he was intrigued by him and his curiosity grew as Bilbo explained the four Farthings that made up the Shire. Daeron caught Beorn watching him several times but the giant never said anything, other than ask some polite questions about what he did. Daeron talked about the Dunedain and their mission and what land they kept watch over. He noticed Thorin's stern expression grow the more he talked. Perhaps Thorin questioned why the rangers didn't help when Smaug destroyed Erebor and Dale. The night went on and much food and ale was consumed.
Daeron felt himself growing tired, he found a quiet corner and lay down, it was comfortable, much more than the hard rock he'd slept on the previous night. He could hear the dwarves talking in hushed whispers and he could hear Gandalf and Beorn discussing something, but their voices were too low to pick up anything.
"Rest well, tomorrow we shall discuss your next course of action." Beorn called gently, opening the large wooden door and leaving them all alone. Eventually everyone began to fall asleep. Daeron drifted in and out of sleep at one point he could hear something large moving about outside, and the scuffling at the door. Curiosity got the better of him and he rose quietly, his hand falling to his sword. He neared a window and peered out carefully. There walking away from the house was a large black bear. Daeron took a step back in surprise,
"Ah, that would be our most gracious host." Gandalf said, causing Daeron to jump.
"Gandalf!?" Daeron hissed, noticing that the wizard still sat at the table, pipe in mouth.
"Apologies Daeron," Gandalf chuckled, "Don't worry as long as we are in the house, we are safe. Tomorrow I must leave you."
Daeron made his way over to the table and sat opposite Gandalf.
"What do you mean by leave?"
"Exactly that," Gandalf said, blowing a rather nice smoke ring, "Remember that blade at the council meeting? Well I asked Beorn if there's anything rather unusually stirring in these parts and he's claimed that the forest is darker than ever before. There must be a connection to the
morgul blade and the darkness within Mirkwood. I must go and investigate this problem, I highly suspected something but coming across Azog further confirms my suspicion that someone wants Thorin dead or at least prevent him from retaking Erebor, and we must have answers. Cheer up Daeron, I will come back. But in the meantime I need you to look after them. They are brave and their resolve is strong but I fear the forest will test them. Especially Thorin."
"I'm not sure I'm ready?"
"It is for that precise reason that you are." Gandalf said, "Many people are hungry for power or responsibility and I find it is often those who lose their way. But you're quite the opposite. I've known you for a long time Daeron, I've watched you grow. All your training and time up North has prepared you for this task."
Daeron smiled, "Thank you Gandalf, I will try my best. But I'm worried I might fail you or Ada"
"That is perfectly normal, and a sign that you've got a good heart and head about you. Rest now, we shall talk again in the morning."
Daeron went back to his corner and lay down. But he couldn't sleep, Gandalf's words echoed through his mind. He was grateful to have the wizards' trust but he worried that maybe Gandalf overestimated his abilities. Perhaps it was a mistake to come on this journey. Eventually not even his doubts could keep the tiredness at bay and he succumbed to sleep.