𝐍𝐘𝐌𝐌𝐑𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 ━ lord of the rings

Five: Beast, not Burden

"By Mahal! Gandalf," Bofur whispered quietly, tightening his grip on his weapon."What was that thing?"

Before the wizard could answer, a tremendous roar was sent tumbling through the tumults, reverbing through the country. The noise made the wolves pause their assault in confused fear, but their piercing yellow eyes never faltered and almost immediately after the sound had died out they leaped forward simultaneously, a barrage of fur and teeth attacking the ring of dwarrow and the hobbit they were protecting in the middle. Gandalf smacked one of the creatures around the head so hard a crack could be heard, and the body of the wolf slumped to the ground, before he plunged Glamdring into the chest of another. 

Thorin, seeing the wizard's boldness, led the charge of the dwarves as he swung Orcist around his head, seeming almost as wild as the wolves themselves, cleaving them down expertly. Left and right, dwarves were wielding axes and knives, hacking away at the dense wave of animals. But it was not enough, for though their prowess as warriors was in some parts of the world unmatched, their numbers were not fit to take on the entire pack. One by one, the dwarves were outnumbered, Kili's quiver running out and Gloin's axe swept from his hands by a heavy swipe of a paw.

And then, suddenly, a great beast stormed into the camp. It took the shape of an enormous cat, a lion with fur as golden as the sun and a flaxen mane that burned a deep red in the camplight. It was enormous, standing at the shoulder height of a great horse, or other similar beasts of burden. And it was ferocious, the fur around its gaping mouth stained with brownish blood as it tore its way through the bodies of their attackers with little more than a snap of its tremendous jaws or a powerful swipe of its glittering claws.

 When at last the pack of wolves had deemed their losses too great for little more than a tasty morsel, they crept away, licking their wounds with tails tucked between their legs, and the great lion was left standing there still, surrounded by the carcasses of dozens of the ugly mutts. There was a rage in its green eyes that only had the dwarrow more on guard as it stared them down. It took a step forward, they took a step back. Its maw wrinkled in frustration. Then it disappeared, leaping off into the darkness with one great bound to pursue the Alpha of the wild creatures.

The dwarves were finally left with room to breath, panting heavily in the aftermath of their sleep-deprived, brutal fight. Gandalf finally let the crystal atop his wooden staff glow brightly in the dingy night, whispering words to it that were known only to himself. It illuminated further the chaos that occurred, bodies strewn everywhere, with great claw marks and puncture wounds littering the flesh of their fallen foes. The faces of the dwarrow were grey and haggard, pale in the white light of the staff. Thorin eyes scanned quickly for their burglar, softening in relief at the sight of Bilbo helping Kili pull his arrow shafts from their downed targets.

"Is everyone accounted for?" he rumbled deeply.

"Where's Nymmril?" said someone, panic filling their voice. It was Fili, having noticed that the young man was nowhere to be seen.

"That... That beast got him, I'm sure!" Ori cried, pointing a shaking hand to where the magnificent lion had last stood. A murmur of fear and confusion swept through the company as they wiped the blood from their weapons on the grass. At their remarks, Gandalf made the noise he usually did when he knew something they did not, humming to himself and settled down, staring into the fire with a faint smile on his lips.

More time had passed than previously thought when Nymmril returned to camp, hair, face and clothes smudged with dirty, ruddy brown blood. At the first sight of him, weary and exhausted but alive, Bifur let out a cry of relief in Khazgul, such that the young man himself couldn't understand what he was saying. But the others did, and within seconds the man found himself surrounded by his newly-found companions and questioned about where he'd been. He raised a single eyebrow at them, but said nothing and instead went to take a seat beside Gandalf. Fili and Ori followed him like abandoned dogs.

"We thought we had lost you," Fili exclaimed quietly, kneeling down before where Nymmril was sat. He placed an unsure hand on the man's knee, smiling brightly and somewhat flustered when the shifter placed his own over top of it, squeezing gently.

"I am sorry for whatever annoyance I may have caused in my... disappearance."

Ori shook his head rapidly, standing in front of the shifter shyly.

"It wasn't a nuisance... It was scary," the young one said quickly to correct him. Nymrill frowned.

 "Well then I am sorry for causing unnecessary fear. You needn't have worried for me."

Fili rolled his eyes, straightening up and looking slyly at the man. "Where did you go, then? During the battle? Did one of the wolves get you?"

"Is that its blood?" Ori asked afterwards, leaning forward eagerly. The camp was silent save for their words and Nymmril felt as though all eyes were on him, though a majority of the dwarrow were going about their own business. Gandalf was watching him closely.

"It is the blood of the beats, yes." he said finally, mouth feeling dry even as he spoke. He wiped sweaty palms on his breeches. "You must've noticed me during the fray."

"We certainly didn't! You just... vanished part way through!" Said Bilbo, who had overheard the conversation and was listening in keenly. He flushed at his interruption, looking down at the floor. Thorin came up next to him, curious as to what was happening, and with him, of course, came the interest of the rest of the company. Nymmril cocked his head to the side, staring at the little hobbit fondly.

"But I looked right at all of you, and unless I'm mistaken you all stared right back," he asked, confused.

"The only thing worth staring at during that battle was-" Thorin began, stopping short of his sentence's end. He took a step back, shielding Bilbo with his arm. "You mean to tell me you were the creature?"

Nymmril smiled. "Of course I was. My radag, as Gandalf likes to put it, is a lion." Silence. He turned to Thorin, whose face was grim. "Is... Is there something wrong with that?"

"Nothing is wrong with it!" Fili blurted quickly, before his Uncle could reply. "We knew you were a shifter after all. We just weren't expecting..."

"That." The young man bowed his head, wiping a bloody lock of hair from his forehead. "Yes, I suppose I might've warned you of my other form before we set out." His lips were turned down, as if he were upset. And indeed he was, for their reactions were not the ones he had wanted to see.

"Well, I, for one, thought it- I mean you, sorry - was magnificent," came the voice of Balin, his kind old eyes warm as he gazed at the shifter. "Really a spectacle. Not something I ever thought I'd see in my time." Nymrill sent him a sappy look of thanks as his opinion sent murmurs of approval through the dwarrows. Gandalf turned to him now.

"Yes, Fleetfoot can be majestic when he wants to be. Now," the wizard said, tapping the man's shoulder with his staff, "Tell me where you got off too after you'd slain the wolves."

"I was hunting their Alpha. These were no ordinary wolves Gandalf-"

"No they were not. They left the ponies unharmed," Thorin muttered. He strode away, hands tucked behind his back, towards the closest carcass and knelt down to examine it.

"Wargs," he and Gandalf said at the same time, meeting each other's eyes. Nymmril nodded, climbing to his feet.

"They were here to spy on us, but their masters have been starving them. The Orcs are scheming something grand. I pinned down the Leader of the pack but the Beta got away - he'll report back to Azog. The pale one will know of my presence and of our position by now."

"Then they'll be here by dawn," Dwalin said gravely, tightening his grip on his axe. He turned towards his King. "Thorin,  if this is the case, we need to get moving."

The dwarf scowled, meeting the green eyes of Nymmril, who nodded in agreement. "Fine," He said. "Gather everything together. Gandalf, put out the flames. We ride to Mirkwood immediately."