Queen Under the Mountain - Thorin Oakenshield

~Six~

~The Journey Continues~ 

"RUN!"

"That's all he ever says to us," panted Fili, running at Dahlia's side.  "'Run!'"

The Company of Thorin Oakenshield was currently sprinting through the forest, an Orc pack not far behind, and with something else at their heels.  And they had thought the Orcs on the backs of their Wargs had been bad enough...

Gandalf was leading the way - he seemed to know where they were going, leading them somewhere. It seemed he was always leading them somewhere, always scheming. 

That somewhere turned out to be a cottage at the edge of the forest.  

"Hurry! Get inside!" Gandalf stopped to wave them onward, making sure everyone was safely inside before following himself, slamming the door shut behind them.

"What is that?" asked Ori, breathless from their intense sprint. "That creature out there? That's no Orc or Warg!"

"That is our host." All the Dwarves turned to face Gandalf.  "His name is Beorn, he is a Skin-changer. Sometimes he is a huge black bear, and other times he is a great strong man. The bear is unpredictable, the man can be reasoned with.  However, he is not overly fond of Dwarves...."

"As has most everyone we've encountered on this journey so far," Dahlia pointed out.  "Are you sure we should trust your judgement, Gandalf?"  

"That, my dear Lady Dahlia, is up to you. But I would advise it, yes."

"It's not natural, none of it. He's obviously under some dark spell!" cried Dori.

"Oh, don't be a fool. He's under no enchantment but his own. Now get some rest, all of you. Try and get some sleep."

"No doubt there'll be more running tomorrow," muttered Fili, but Gandalf heard him.

"Yes, young Prince Fili, I dare say there will be. And lots of it."

~ ~ ~ ~ 

Dahlia sat on the hay lining the floor of Beorn's barn, where the company had chosen to rest for the night. She lifted the hem of her shirt, revealing the thick, dark scar on her side, just above her right hip, the remains of a deep gash.  The scar was all that was  left of her wound from a Warg attack.  The Elves of Rivendell had managed to help her regain her strength and stop the bleeding, but they were not able to prevent the wound from scarring over and a mark from forming.  No, she would now carry that with her always, a permanent reminder. A painful reminder. 

She heard a rustle, someone shifting in the hay, and looked up to see Thorin sitting up as well. He had caught her examining her scar. Even in the darkness of the barn she could make out the look of concern gracing his features. 

"I'm fine." She dropped her shirt back down, hiding the ugly scar.  "Just have a nasty mark with a nasty reminder."  The still very-clear image of the gnashing teeth and slashing claws of the Warg as it attacked her made her shudder as though a sudden chill had swept through the barn. 

"Aye.  Are you still in pain?"

"No."

"Good, I'm glad."

"Not from the scar, at least."

He sighed, knowing what she was referring to.  "I left you behind because I thought you would be safe-"

"I know. But I still wish you hadn't. I want to reclaim Erebor too, you know."

"Of course."

"We're in this together. All of us."

He nodded.  "You're never going to forgive me for that, are you?"

"Never.  For as long as we live."

"Neither will I, forgive myself."

~ ~ ~ ~

"So you're the one they call 'Oakenshield'," Beorn, now in his human form, said the next morning at breakfast. "Why is Azog the Defiler hunting you?"

Thorin, always cautious, especially now during this quest, answered by asking a question of his own. "You know of Azog, how?"

"My people were the first to live in the mountains, before the Orcs came down from the North. The Defiler killed most of my family, but some he enslaved. Not for work you see, but for sport. Chaining up and torturing Skin-changers seemed to amuse him."

"There are others like you?" asked Bilbo.

"There were.  Once there were many. Now, there is only one." A long silence followed his admitting of this deeply personal loss.

It was Beorn who changed the subject, speaking again.   "You need to reach the Mountain before the last days of autumn."

"Before Durin's Day falls," Gandalf clarified. 

"The last light of Durin's Day," added Thorin.

"Then you are running out of time."

"We know." 

"Which is why we must go through Mirkwood," Gandalf spoke again.

"A darkness lies upon that forest. Fell things creep beneath those trees. There is an alliance between the Orcs of Moria and the Necromancer in Dol Guldur. I would not venture there unless in great need," Beorn cautioned. 

"This is a great need," mumbled Thorin. 

"We will take the Elven Road," Gandalf decided. "That way is still safe."

"'Safe'? The Elves of Mirkwood are not like their kin. They are less wise, and more dangerous. These lands are crawling with Orcs, their numbers continue to grow. You are on foot - you will never reach the forest alive." Beorn rose to his feet so that he stood towering over them, imposing.  "I don't like Dwarves. They are greedy, and blind. Blind to those whose lives they deem lesser than their own." He stopped when he stood before Thorin, and for a moment, it was unclear what he was about to do.   "But Orcs I hate - what do you need?"

Ponies and sufficient food and supplies for the journey were given without resistance or question. Beorn turned out to be a very hospitable host, and very helpful.  

"Go now, while you still have the light," he told them.  "Your hunters are not far behind." On that note, he shifted back into his great bear form and sent them on their way. 

(I think The Desolation of Smaug is my favourite of the Hobbit  films! :)

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! :))