From The Inside

14

It seemed well into the late afternoon when the snow finally let up enough for Radagast and Gandalf to set off and leave Beorn and Ylva in peace again. Up until that point they had spent the day conversing, perhaps Ylva more so than Beorn. She was rather captivated by the tales which Gandalf had spoken of; he had been to places she had not heard of. How she'd love to see somewhere new. Not that she disliked her home, far from it; just roaming was a part of who she was.

When she had let this slip quietly, Gandalf had laughed and lowered his pipe. From asking permission he had quickly commenced blowing smoke rings lazily up into the air. He had turned to her and said: "It is more than possible for you to come along with me and see Bree." He had spent a good while speaking of Bree, and the simplicity of it – it seemed simple and quaint sounding to Ylva – had naturally caused her eyes to light up.

Though hearing an agitated sigh from Beorn spoke otherwise. He did not wish to dwell on the thought of her leaving to go off on some adventure with a wizard they had only just met. Not that he would want her to go even if they did know him. When it came down to it, he didn't wish her to leave at all. "Maybe one day when I'm all healed up?" Ylva had suggested then, thinking this was a good mutual point.

Gandalf had nodded slowly while he guardedly looked to Beorn then to her. "Perhaps," his tone was rather distant. Blinking and looking from the sling to her eyes, he frowned curiously. "Say, how did you hurt yourself?"

And from that simple question Ylva had rather awkwardly spoken of how she sustained the injuries which she still had. Though most had healed she could still see them in her minds eye. She knew where they were, what they were, how shallow they were, and how deep some run. Clearly come ran deeper than most, mentally. Her story and the main problem within it caused Gandalf to look interested. Clearly he was no stranger to Azog and his ways, he had quietly mumbled something along the lines of: "You've suffered by his hands too."

This caused Ylva's head to tilt curiously, while Beorn shifted forwards in his seat and rested his arms on the table. He did not wish to know of another's suffering by Azog. He was not ignorant, he knew there were others, he was more curious over the fact that Gandalf had even mentioned it at all. It was clear it was not him who had suffered, so who was it he was referring to?

"You speak as if you know," Beorn said lowly while fixing Gandalf with an unwavering look.

He let out a chuckle and exhaled some smoke. He was perhaps the only person Ylva had seen to chuckle with amusement over the hard tone and looks which Beorn would send his way. Anyone else would wither and back down. Seemingly not Gandalf. "Who does not know?" Was all he gave and then changed the subject to something trivial.

Though it was annoying that he skimmed over the subject so quickly and efficiently, Beorn was most thankful. Speaking of Azog was something that he tried to avoid at all costs. He did not wish to speak his name, or even let his thoughts drift to him. It caused a dark feeling to suddenly appear within him if he did. Seeing how distant he became, Ylva reached out and placed her hand over his forearm and smiled at him gently. She pulled him from his thoughts, simply putting a hand over hers he, looked back to the wizards in front of them.

They didn't stay too long after that, it seemed all that needed to be said had been spoken. Now a peaceful, content atmosphere had enveloped the group. The silence was not awkward, but comfortable. As if they had known each other for years and they could just sit and not speak without feeling out of place. Needless to say when it came to them leaving, Ylva had it in mind to stand in the doorway and wave enthusiastically. Her waving got cut short though when Beorn put an arm around her shoulder gently and pulled her away. The two visitors had disappeared into the tree line, they could no longer be seen, so who she was waving at, he did not know.