Authors note: I do not own anything to do with The Hobbit or LOTR franchises, everything belongs to Tolkien! am just a poor unemployed fish biologist having some fun. Comments and reviews welcome but please no flames! If you don't like it, don't read it- easy enough right?
Chapter 7: Honey Coated Help
Irritation had quickly turned to rage in Thorin. This hobbit who had somehow turned from the odd bystander to a curiosity that he couldn't seem to figure out. This hobbit, a forgettable dull being, whom Thorin now found existing at the forefront of his thoughts most hours. This hobbit! Who willfully questioned his decisions, the decisions of a son of Durin! And didn't bat an eyelash. In fact, didn't seem to show much emotion at all, as if asking a series of questions about the weather.
Am I making the right decision? The thought flitted through his mind and angered him more. How dare this being question him. This is all he had fought for since he had lost his home, it was almost within reach and he would not be swayed!
"…I doubt you have ever loved anything in your entire life enough to have mourned its loss the way we do." The words left his lips, a dagger of sound thrown carelessly at its target. He hadn't expected a reaction; had anticipated an emotionless comment in that same detached voice. As he watched the hobbits face go white, his only thought had been; good, perhaps that will teach him to question me. The smug feeling of superiority… shadowed by a small etching of regret.
He hadn't expected the fist.
Now, his lip bruised, he guided his kinsman along a rocky outcropping of hill in flight from their enemy. And still Bilbo would not leave his thoughts. Thorin guarded over the group, Gandalf driving them faster through the forest. 1, 2 ,3… 13 in total he counted over and over in his head. But always counting the hobbit first. He watched as Bofur stumbled in his groggy state, Bilbo lifted the dwarf before Thorin could react and took on a pack that wasn't his own. He could see the hobbit flagging in energy and it ate at him when Bomber helped usher him forward by taking his hand.
When the group came to a pause, catching their breath, the others began to speak of scouting the enemy. Bilbo was volunteered as the burglar for the task, which chaffed at Thorin. Could the others not see how tired he was? He didn't voice this however, and soon thirteen was down to twelve as they waited among the stones with bated breath.
Dwalin came to sit beside him, pulling out a dagger to begin sharpening. He didn't waste any small talk before asking, "So your wooing worked then?"
"Eh? No, I would say not." Thorin frowned, rubbing his sore lip.
"Tis no' Kissing bruises? Then what happened to your face?"
"He… hit me."
"Truly? I wasn't sure if he would be receptive to your intentions, but I didn't expect violence from him." Dwalin chuckled," I guess male hobbits prefer female companionship?"
"I don't think that is it. I may have insulted him," He shrugged as his friend raised an eyebrow in question, "It's of no importance. He mentioned loving another that has passed." He trailed off, trying to remember exactly what Bilbo had said.
"Hmm, I donna' know of hobbit mating customs. Do they mate with a single being for life like us? Or are they like men, who can fall in love with a new mate every other fortnight?"
"I do not know, but it is probably for the best. The mission is what is important. I do not need any distractions."
"No, ofcourse." Dwalin drawled, giving him a knowing look before turning back to his blade.
It was in the pink of the predawn that the hobbit returned.
"How close is the pack," Thorin's curiosity piqued by the small half smile on Bilbo's face.
"Too close, a couple of leagues, no more… and there is a bear-like beast as well."
Gandalf coughed as the rest of the company murmured at the news.
"Should we go back?" Bofur's eyes darted like a cornered rabbit.
"To be chased down by a pack of orcs?"
"There's a house not far from here where we might seek refuge." Gandalf leaned heavily on his staff as he regarded Thorin for the decision.
Warily he inquired if they would be friend or foe.
"Neither, he will help us ... or he will kill us."
It hadn't taken long for the beast to catch their scent, giving chase as the morning sun began to crest over the mountains. While the man was reasonable, the bear was territorial and easy to anger. Bilbo could feel himself flagging as they ran away from Beorn.
Bomber, the speediest of the dwarves, was banging on the door long before anyone else had reached it while Bilbo was the last. Thorin threw open the large latch on the door, grabbing Bilbo by the coat collar and tossing him through the opening as the others spilled into the dwelling. Bilbo lay on the floor among the rushes trying to catch his breath as the others slammed the door on the bear's nose, locking themselves inside it's house.
"What was that?" Ori's voice trembled, betraying his fear.
"That would be our host," Bilbo thought he could hear laughter in Gandalf's voice, and he himself found it quite funny. He had spent many months in the company of the shifter, and while he was one to fear as an enemy, Bilbo knew no kinder being in all of Middle Earth.
The home smelled just the same as when he had last visited, the sweet aroma of honey mixing with the animals and uncured wood of the building. Above him large bumblebees buzzed through the rafters. He could hear the oxen and horses stepping in their stalls, on edge by the strangers. Lifting himself into a sitting position, he took stock of his injuries. While his ribs had been healing for the past week, they were still sore. Now he found bumps and bruises across his arms and legs; caused by his own exhausted clumsiness as much as Thorin pitching him inside.
The company took great care not to disturb anything, taking up one of the smaller side rooms with their bed rolls and deciding on cold hardtack for their meal. As the afternoon faded into night, Gandalf told his tale of the bear man. With assurances from the wizard of their safety the company found themselves sleeping soundly. Confident that everyone had passed out from exhaustion, Bilbo moved quietly through the house to prepare a meal for their host in his kitchen. He let muscle memory guide him to where the stash of mead resided in a cupboard and climbed on chairs to reach the cups and plates. He set out bread and cheeses and warm honey biscuits he toasted by the fire.
This is where Beorn found Bilbo when he finally made his way into his home, waiting patiently at the dinner table for a friend who no longer knew him.
"What is this then?"
"I know shifters are often hungry after they change into men."
"Who taught you this then? Who are you?" While cautious, Beorn joined him at the table, digging into the biscuits that Bilbo knew were his favorite. Bilbo stood to give a small bow.
"Bilbo Baggins, at your service. As for who told me, that would be you, my friend." Bilbo met his stare head on, caring not to watch his words. He would have taken the story of the blue wizards to his grave if he believed that it would ever harm the company. And while he feared Thorin questioning his sanity and dismissing him as their burglar, he held no reservations telling Beorn of his troubles. He had just spent the last several months being alone, and he felt worn down, ragged inside as if cut by blades he couldn't see. And if he had learned anything in all his years; honey heals all wounds.
So, he spent the next hours talking with one of his best friends. He told his tale, refusing to shed new tears for the grief of those who died but now slept in the other room. He explained how he had spent several months here with Beorn mending his soul as best he could. He spoke of Marthiel, the queen bee named after Beorn's mother, and how he had enjoyed watching the large bumbles for hours on end. How he'd helped Beorn garden and cook and chop wood. Finally, he ended with the recounting of the blue wizards and the deal he had made to be here again. The bear-man's face gave nothing away as he ate his meal, waiting till Bilbo had finished speaking before asking any questions.
"And what would you ask of me?"
"For myself I would ask nothing." Bilbo took a sip of his second cup of mead, appreciating rich flavor and relaxing in the warmth of the firelight," I have done this quest before, and I will do it again. It is only for the others I'd ask for supplies, anything you can spare. If that means we leave here with nothing more than we arrived with then so be it."
"How am I to trust your words? A halfling I never laid eyes on claiming to be my future friend sounds absurd."
"I don't mind if you doubt me, but I know you are made of more magic than I am." Bilbo smiled brightly at the large man," But I appreciate you listening to my story. I feel both old and new wounds, like fissures in here," he tapped his chest," for which your presence has always been a salve."
"Do you not fear the fates' wrath over your interference?"
"Yes, I fear that the fates of my friends are sealed, that I won't be able to change anything. But I have hope that maybe, with a little luck, I will be able to save several good people for meeting their end." He shrugged. Then pulling a scrap of paper from his pocket he passed it over the table.
"What is this?" Beorn eye the scrap, unable to read the elvish.
"I borrowed this for an elf named Elrond. It is not meant as a bribe, but rather a promise kept. When I knew you before, you spoke of your loneliness and of searching for other shifters. I made a vow to aid in any way I could. However, I was too late to relay this information. I did not know until it was too late, and so it never reached your ears. This time I can tell you that there are still shifters living. Enslaved by the orcs of Gundabad, a female and a cub were spotted escaping together into the wilderness a little over three months ago."
Beorn froze, his entire body going ridged as he stared at the piece of paper in his hands. "You speak truth?"
"To you, always."
He nodded, slipping the sheet into his tunic before pouring Bilbo another drink. "Then tell me more of this friend I am making anew."
As the sun rose the company awoke to the sound of a roar coming from the kitchen which seemed to shake the very foundation. Grabbing up their weapons the dwarves charged into the room intending to do battle with a beast, only to find a man laughing heartily alongside their burglar.
"Oh, apologies, we didn't mean to wake you all." Bilbo attempted to pull himself together as he whipped tears of laughter from his eyes. Thorin and Dwalin both frowned hard at Bilbo, while the others eyed Beorn warily. Gandalf made his way into the room with a quizzical look to Bilbo before introducing himself and the company.
"Come, won't you join us for breakfast?" While still stoic, Beorn's entire attitude had lightened over the last few hours, making him appear less terrifying than he had been the first time the company had met him. Placing bowls of milk, bread and honey in front of each dwarf, Beorn joined them in their meal while conversing about where they had come from and where they were going.
"We've been chased by Azog the Defiler for a while now; we actually just lost him outside your boarder." Gandalf intoned between bites.
"Yes, I chased them as far as I could… You need to reach the Mountain before the last days of Autumn? I fear you are running out of time."
"What do you know of it?" Thorin turned, wary of the man before him.
"Bilbo has petitioned aid on your behalf. A darkness lies upon Mirkwood, you will be in constant danger among those trees." He leaned back to cross his arms over his chest, his chain dangling before the group. "I do not like dwarves, but I have made a friend in your halfling; I will supply what I can."
"We are much obliged," Thorin's frowning eyes remained glued to the hobbit beside the bear for the rest of the meal. Bilbo stared down at his bowl, feeling awkward as he pushed the bread around with his spoon with no appetite. He and Thorin hadn't had a chance to talk between the orcs and Beorn, and he had done his best to avoid the king the night before by staying close to Bofur while helping the others set up for bed. He had discussed the issue with Beorn, who had chuckled at him punching Thorin and cited that he was more likely to break his hand on a dwarf's hard head. It had in fact bruised his knuckles. Even after everything, he wasn't sure if he was ready to apologize yet for hitting him.
Gandalf changed the subject quickly, discussing the threats of Mirkwood with Beorn, as well as any possible routes they should take. As before, the elven road was still the 'safest' option, which Bilbo wasn't thrilled about. He remembered the confusion and chaos before the spiders and was having trouble thinking of a remedy.
Finishing up breakfast quickly, the dwarves set about cleaning the dishes for their host and packing their belongings. Bilbo teamed up with Balin to aid Beorn in packing up their supplies. By the end, Bilbo feared that even the ponies might not be able to carry the weight of everything stored into the wicker baskets. Throughout the rest of the afternoon, he received several slaps on the back, as well as one noogie from Kili, for a job well done. While it pleased him that they would hopefully not go hungry this time around, he didn't feel as if he should be the one receiving the praise. As everyone exited the dwelling they watched as Beorn called for the ponies they were to ride to the edge of Mirkwood.
"Your hunters are near," he sniffed the air as everyone secured the supplies onto their mounts.
"We appreciate your aid, Beorn; thank you." Bilbo looked up at the towering man.
"Keep well my future friend," His head turned to the west, "Go, now while you have the light." Climbing onto his mount, Bilbo gave one last look at their sanctuary before spurring his pony into a gallop.
The ride didn't leave much time for talking, the race against time as well as the orcs driving them to a breakneck pace. They eventually reached Mirkwood late in the afternoon, everyone thrilled that there were no orcs in sight. Gandalf spotted the bear on the hill watching over the dwarves and smiled to himself.
"We will let the ponies return to their master." He guided the dwarves to unsaddle the animals before he turned his attention to the forest as he did the first time, a weird connection driving him to find a red painted eye on a broken statue. Bilbo patted his pocket, knowing what evil that symbol represents, the same one that sat inside his jacket undisturbed. He hadn't dared touch it, much less use it since stealing it from Golem. He could feel the sickness like a miasma seeping from the forest in front of them, while the Ring whispered sweet nothings from its hiding spot.
"Not my horse!" Gandalf turned, reaching for the rains of the stallion.
"You are not accompanying us?" Thorin's eyebrows rose in disbelief.
"I'm sorry my friend, but I would not do this if I didn't have to. I will be waiting for you at the Overlook before the slopes of Erebor." He looked over the dwarves, before settling his gaze on Bilbo, "Do not enter without me. And do not let this wood lead your mind astray."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Dori gave an irritated huff.
"Do not leave the path." Without further adieu, Gandalf turned his horse around, leaving them standing on the edge between safety and danger.
"Come," Thorin turned to face the forest," We have but a short time to reach the other side of this forest. Durin's day is nearly upon us."