The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings one shots and Imagines

Little mouse - Part 3 - Beorn x Reader

(Y/n) did her best not to squirm, as the big man placed a cloth in the pail of water; soaking it and wringing it out, before using it to clean away the dried blood from her skin. The huntsman's daughter, unable to keep her eyes from him, as he did his best not to hurt her.

She called him a man, but he was nothing like any man that she had ever seen; (Y/n) sure that he must be the height of two normal men combined. And his beard, his eyebrows, looked like they should be on some animal that called his cottage home, not him. She could see a sadness in his eyes, and the lines around them seemed to suggest that he frowned a little more than he should; though given that those awful heavy manacles and chains hung from his wrist, she supposed that she couldn't blame him for frowning. (Y/n) not feeling brave enough to ask where they came from, nor why he didn't remove them. That, and she didn't want to seem rude; didn't want it to appear as though she was not grateful for all his help, and allowing her to stay.

"Ow............" (Y/n) suddenly yelped, as the cold, damp cloth brushed over a particularly deep cut.

"Keep still, little mouse. I don't want to hurt ya............." Beorn told her. (Y/n) finding herself just nodding in reply, before moving her skirts a little; biting on her lip, as he placed his large hand over her leg.

Little mouse...........? She didn't know why he was calling her that; but she did have to say that she sort of liked it. The name seeming right, when coming from the big man. For even though it was true she was no elf, even though she was sure that she was taller than a dwarf, or a hobbit; she was also sure that anyone would seem little, when compared to her host.

"Do.........do you live here alone...........?" (Y/n) finally enquired. Hoping that a little conversation would take her mind of the pains in her legs and feet.

"No........the animals................"

"Yes, I can see those. I meant...........I meant is there another someone that lives here with you. Someone like you............a woman.......?"

"There is no one else like me..........no woman......" Beorn replied, as he turned his attention from the scratches and cuts on her legs, to those on her face. The Beornling carefully taking her chin in his hand, before dabbing at the cut on her cheek.

"Oh........then it would appear that both of us are alone............" (Y/n) added with a sigh. Fighting back the tear that threatened to fall, at the memory of the death of her father.

When her father had been alive, she had never thought about what would happen when he was gone. It was, of course, never something that she had wanted to contemplate; her father had always been there for her, and she for him. Yet after his passing, (Y/n) had realised, that unlike the young women that were her age; unlike the women she would meet when she ventured to the markets, she was not betrothed, or even being courted. She had no one to care for and love. And even though she held no animosity towards her father for keeping her away from others; having someone to share the now very quiet cottage with, would be a welcome thing.

"You are alone..............?" Beorn countered, having to admit that even though she had told him that her father was dead, he found it implausible that this beautiful woman did not have some handsome suitor.

"Yes.........."

"No suitor..........?"

"No........when my mother died, it was just my father and I. We really had no need to go to the towns, because the woods have always given us what we needed; so, I never got to meet others, and certainly no men. But it now means that I am all alone in the cottage, with not a soul to care for, or to care for me..........." The huntsman's daughter explained. Her eyes dropping from Beorn's face for a moment, before she suddenly looked back up and smiled.

"But I don't dwell on it. One should not allow yourself to dwell in sad thoughts or notions of what could have been. It makes no sense. I choose instead to continue to hope and look to the woods for all I need. And perhaps, one day, who knows, it might help me meet someone with whom I may share my life." She added. A blush coming to her cheeks, as her belly suddenly rumbled.

"Hungry, are ya...........?" Beorn asked, as he dropped the damp cloth into the wooden pail. The skin changer feeling yet another smile want to make its way onto his lips, as she nodded slowly.

"Here, put this on ya cuts, while I make ya something.........." The Beornling continued, handing her a pot of a green concoction. (Y/n) scrunching up her nose, as the smell from it, hit her.

"Aye, it smells, but it will help ya cuts heal.............." The big man added. (Y/n) nodding her head again, before dipping her finger into the pot, and smearing a line layer of the balm over her cuts. The huntsman's daughter unable to stop herself smiling, as she watched Beorn take a large black pan and place it on the fire. The wonderful smell of food soon filling the home. (Y/n) finding that she felt quite comfortable in these new surroundings. Secretly hoping that the balm didn't help her cuts heal, too quickly.