Capítulo 16: Thoughts and Conversations
I stared at Grimbeorn, my mind torn between contemplating the man's early existence and the pain in my leg. Deciding to focus on the latter, I smiled slightly at Grimbeorn and bowed my head.
"Well met. I am Mairon, and this is my friend, Bilbo Baggins," I said, motioning to the hobbit, who also bowed his head at Grimbeorn. "I presume Thorin, and the others are at your home, then?"
"Oakenshield and his Company, along with the wizard Gandalf the Grey, arrived at my father's house yesterday morning," Grimbeorn nodded. "They have awaited your arrival with hope and, dare I say, much impatience."
I huffed with reluctant amusement at that last bit. Thorin was probably already beside himself.
I wondered if the dwarf king would apologize to Bilbo and almost snorted in derision. Yeah, right. Fat chance.
"You are wounded," Grimbeorn observed, looking pointedly at the arrow shaft still protruding from my leg, and I winced. I had almost completely forgotten about that, actually. Weirdly enough, it seemed to burn way less than before. Maybe it was growing numb?
"Oh, this? 'Tis but a scratch," I said cheerily, slowly shifting my leg until the arrow was a hand's distance away from my reach.
"Uh, you might want to keep that in, Mairon!" Bilbo exclaimed while fussing all over me, wriggling his hands anxiously.
"Nonsense," I huffed, and without even thinking about how stupid it would be, I firmly grabbed the shaft and pulled. Bilbo let out an exclamation of shock, and Grimbeorn watched with a slightly surprised yet curious gleam in his eyes. Heh. Morbid much?
I felt a stab of pain, though it wasn't as painful as I had imagined it would be, and I dumbly stared at the arrow, now in my hand, while a trickle of blood fell from my wound ever so slowly.
"Why did you do that?!" Bilbo shrieked, quickly rummaging through his bag. I watched in bemusement as he retrieved a roll of clean bandages, which surprised me.
"Since when did we bring that from Rivendell?" I asked curiously. Bilbo, still looking harried, threw me a strange look when he noticed I wasn't panicking about the wound.
"Does it not hurt, Mairon?" He asked instead of answering, looking at my leg. A soft gasp escaped him as we watched the wound stop bleeding and the gash start healing slowly until only a very thin mark remained. The scar was so small, in fact, that I wouldn't be surprised if it had completely faded by the next morning.
"Remarkable," Grimbeorn stated while Bilbo gaped at my leg incredulously.
I smiled cheekily at the hobbit. "See? Nothing to worry about!" I laughed brightly and stood up, startling Bilbo, who clutched his bag like a lifeline.
After a while of staring in incomprehension at me, he just huffed, sighed, and put the bandages away again.
"I am too tired for this," Bilbo grumbled, and when it looked as if no one was going to say anything else, Grimbeorn tilted his head and said,
"I will bring you to my home, if you wish. Perhaps we could make haste if the little one were to get on my back once I change skins again."
I nodded, "good idea. Bilbo must be tired from all that running, anyway."
Bilbo raised an eyebrow but eventually sighed. "We may as well. A ride it is. Just promise me you will not drop me."
Grimbeorn gave a booming laugh and smiled at Bilbo, who smiled back with a little hesitance. I couldn't blame him. Grimbeorn looked the part of a wild bear right then, even if he hadn't transformed yet. And I noticed that he hadn't promised Bilbo he wouldn't drop him, which was as concerning as it was hilarious.
Grimbeorn dropped to all fours, and hair started growing from every part of his body while his extremities widened and shifted until a dark brown, giant bear was in front of us once more. It growled, sitting on the floor next to Bilbo so that the hobbit would have easier access to his back, and once he was well placed and secured, Grimbeorn took off running, not even bothering to check if I was following.
The cheeky bugger.
I snorted and simply ran after them in my current form. Seeing as Grimbeorn was way bigger than Bilbo, I was able to go faster this time around. I smiled in amusement as I quickly overtook Grimbeorn, and he threw me a half-shocked, half-competitive look in return.
Grimbeorn accelerated, making Bilbo yelp and hang on for dear life, and with a bright laugh, I put on more speed and caught up to Grimbeorn again, though I didn't dare pass him in fear of getting lost. (A very feasible fear, let me tell you that.) Imagine if I got too caught up in the race and accidentally made a wrong turn or something. That would be too embarrassing to bear – and yes, this time the pun was very much intended. Truly, my humor had no bounds.
It was like this that we finally reached the high, green walls that surrounded Beorn's home. Grimbeorn headed for the big, open doorway in the center, and just as we entered the garden and slowly came to a stop, the presence of Gandalf made itself known as the wizard hurriedly came out of one of the wooden buildings there, which I guessed to be Beorn's house.
"Bilbo Baggins! As I live and breathe! Thank the Valar!" The wizard joyfully exclaimed, not even letting Bilbo dismount Grimbeorn as he took the hobbit in his arms and started swinging him around in a clearly relieved hug.
I frowned and pretended to be offended. "And what am I, chopped liver?" I asked playfully, and Grimbeorn, who returned to his human form after Bilbo was, quite literally, lifted from his back, shook his head at the sight and walked towards the house without another word.
"Where are you going?" I asked him while Gandalf continued hugging Bilbo – and were those tears? Dear lord. If I had known Gandalf would get so emotional about this, I would have tried to return faster.
"My midday nap is calling," Grimbeorn said without turning around, and with a slight slouch of his shoulders that basically screamed 'troublesome', he vanished inside the house.
I stared for a while and then shrugged. Fair enough. You know, taking a nap sounded wonderful right about now. It had been days since I had last slept, and now I found myself slightly tired.
I was going to follow in Grimbeorn's sleepy footsteps when Gandalf finally set Bilbo on the ground – the hobbit looking quite faint after Gandalf finished shaking him and telling him how worried he was – and turned to me with a slight frown.
I automatically squared my shoulders, and though Gandalf was way shorter than me, in that moment, it felt as if he were as high as a mountain.
"Mairon," he sighed, all exasperation and fond amusement, and I reflexively swallowed.
"Hi," I said awkwardly, waving my hand, and Gandalf's eyes glimmered with something I couldn't quite make out. Something like… fondness? No.
It was more like joy. Joy and gratitude and renewed hope that almost shone like the Sun.
Gandalf extended his arm toward me once he walked a bit closer, Bilbo hesitantly trailing after him, perhaps not understanding what was going on – at least I wasn't alone on that front – but feeling that this moment was important for some reason or another.
I offered my arm automatically, and my hand grasped Gandalf's forearm at the same time his grasped mine.
I blinked down at it and looked at Gandalf with a puzzled tilt of my head. He smiled at me.
"Thank you," he simply said, and that was enough.
I smiled brightly, closing my eyes in contentment, and I didn't need to say or do anything else for Gandalf to understand me, either.
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You might be wondering what the dwarves' reaction to our return ended up being. Well, I can already tell you that there were many tears shed that day. Tears that spoke of relief and happiness, of hope returned after what had seemed like a bleak, terrifying loss.
Balin and Fili, in particular, were so emotional that I saw them hugging Bilbo to within an inch of his life more than once. Bombur kept handing Bilbo food during lunch, as if he thought the hobbit would starve or something if he wasn't fed enough.
Bilbo certainly didn't seem to mind the attention, although once or twice I saw him looking quite overwhelmed. It was during those times that I interjected with a joke or a silly comment, taking the dwarves' attention away from him, if only for a little while, which made him throw me a thankful look and also allowed him to enjoy his lunch in relative peace.
Gandalf simply sat somewhere where he could have Bilbo in his line of sight at all times and started smoking with a deep, contented sigh, leaning on one of Beorn's most comfortable seats.
Thorin, on the other hand, was the only one in the room who didn't seem to share in the same joy as the others. I could see he was happy that Bilbo had returned, of course, but it was obvious he was feeling guilty about it – which was stupid because it's not like Thorin had thrown Bilbo off the ravine. It wasn't his fault that traitorous pebble was there either, though I could admit Thorin hadn't exactly helped Bilbo's peace of mind and tranquility with all his nasty comments and looks.
Alright, maybe the dwarf did have something to be guilty about. Still, it was no time for him to be sulking around; Bilbo was back, for heaven's sake!
Bilbo seemed to have noticed as well, and he appeared to be trying to convince himself to head over to Thorin and talk to him, but he always hesitated too much and ended up staying in his seat.
Meanwhile, I was trying to avoid Beorn's slightly curious and wary looks, which he had been giving me since I had entered his home.
I shifted a bit awkwardly and looked at Grimbeorn instead, who, after he finished eating in record time, leaned on his seat like Gandalf, only instead of smoking, he was snoring away without a care in the world.
I envied the guy, if nothing else.
"Lovely home you have here," I said awkwardly, looking at the different parts of Beorn's home, though I did keep a wary eye on the giant bees that zoomed around the house. I wasn't ashamed to admit that I almost screeched when one got on my shoulder. That size was not normal. What did Beorn even feed them? Magic pollen?!
"So I have been told," Beorn dryly stated, throwing a look at Gandalf, who started coughing in a flustered manner, the smoke from his pipe not helping in the least. Seriously, one of these days that thing was going to kill him.
Randi, who was sitting next to me, pulled my sleeve to get my attention. "Your hair is very red," she said, nodding wisely while her wide, guileless eyes stared at my head in fascination.
Her sister Helga blushed and moved her food around with her fork. "It's really pretty. Like fire."
The dwarves and Bilbo guffawed as I felt myself blush slightly.
How old were they again, five years old? Six? Where the hell had they been learning to flirt?
"Thank you," I simply said and started chugging water to avoid any more awkward conversations.
Alas, it was not meant to be. Beorn, who had remained relatively silent until now, leaned a bit forward from his giant seat and fixed a curious stare that practically screamed 'danger' at me.
"I would very much like to know yours and the hobbit's story, if you would be amenable to it, that is, Master Wizard."
I winced slightly. "Just Mairon is fine, really."
My remark was only acknowledged with a small nod.
"I would like to know as well," Gandalf huffed, "seeing as we should have crossed paths when you left Rivendell a bit before I, myself, did. Yet we never found each other. Why is that?"
Everyone at the table – including the ones who had been talking of other matters – stared at me in silent expectation. Bilbo, who knew half of the story, also appeared curious to hear what I had to say.
"Well," I cleared my throat and resigned myself to storytelling time. "After leaving Rivendell, I just started walking, as one does when they go somewhere, of course, and I may have… lost my way. For some time."
I almost snorted at that severe understatement. If I hadn't fallen from the mountain, I'd probably still be lost.
Thorin looked unbelievingly at me, with most of the dwarves staring at me in incredulity.
"You got lost," the dwarf king repeated in a flat voice.
I huffed, feeling a bit offended despite knowing he was right. But dude. It's not like he of all people could talk.
"I do not know why it is so shocking," I grumbled, furiously nibbling on a piece of bread. "Seeing as all of this is new to me. It is not like I carry a map of Middle-Earth wherever I go, you know. Besides, did you not get lost yourself in the Shire, of all places, when you were looking for Bilbo's house?"
Thorin flushed in shocked embarrassment as the others tried to contain their snickers. I was sure Thorin had tried to forget that embarrassing moment of his, and now it only came back to bite him in the ass. Well, too bad for him.
Bilbo wiggled his finger at me, stopping my fun. The little scoundrel.
"Oh, do stop teasing him, Mairon. You still have not told me how you discovered you could turn into a giant eagle, of all things. Or a horse, for that matter. Thank you for warning me about that, by the way," he told me with a bit of sarcasm shining through his voice.
Grimbeorn, who had woken up a bit into my story and had been drinking ale, promptly spat it all out while the dwarves let out surprised exclamations.
"You are a skin-changer?" he asked, gaping at me, and Beorn nodded in understanding after his son's question, looking as if all his wonderings were answered. He had obviously reached the wrong conclusion, though. I was, by no means, a skin-changer. At least not in their sense of the word.
He didn't know that, though, but maybe that's why he had been looking at me so weirdly since I had first entered his home, now that I thought about it.
Anyway, the Maiar had the ability to shapeshift, right? So it was probably that same reason that let me transform into animals.
Randi and Helga's eyes were almost glittering with wild excitement, and I surreptitiously scooted my chair a bit away from them.
"Wait, you were the eagle?" Fili asked, astonished.
"And you can turn into a horse as well?" Balin exclaimed, his hands trembling as if he was stopping himself from writing it all down.
"Well, yes." I cleared my throat while I pretended I couldn't see their awed looks. It was nothing to be in awe of. Sure, I saved Bilbo in the nick of time, but it wouldn't have been needed at all if I hadn't gotten lost or intervened sooner.
Instead, I looked at Gandalf, who didn't seem surprised in the least – and why would he? He was a Maia too, even if he didn't have all his powers right now – and I frowned in thought and a bit of suspicion.
Hadn't Gandalf and the others still escaped because the Great Eagles helped them? And they had the ability to talk, didn't they? What did Gandalf talk about with them for him to be so unsurprised about this ability of mine?
"What did he tell you?" I asked him, making everyone stare in confusion as he regarded me curiously.
"Whoever are you talking about?" Gandalf asked in return, his tone full of innocence that I suspected was at least half fake.
"Gwaihir. What did he tell you? You do not look at all surprised."
Thorin grumbled under his breath and took a sip of his ale. I looked at him in askance, but he didn't say anything and instead stared at Gandalf with a disgruntled look.
Gandalf huffed, but he thankfully didn't ask me how I knew Gwaihir's name. That would have been fun to explain, no doubt.
"Not as much as you may be thinking," the wizard grumbled, "though he did advise me to wait. And," here he shot me a weighted look, as if he didn't want the others to catch on to something he was about to say, "he is not the only Lord of the Wind to believe so."
I looked at him sharply. "Oh?"
Gandalf hummed noncommittally and leaned back on his seat, where he proceeded to continue smoking, his contribution over.
I was left reeling as the others gave me curious looks, and I couldn't help but wonder what the hell did Manwë know about me and why he had thought it a good idea to leave Gwaihir such a cryptic message.
But really, telling Gwaihir to wait, of all things? How more cliché could that get?
"So you already knew you could turn into an eagle?" Bilbo asked me hesitantly after a while. The others had restarted their conversations, but Beorn, his children, Gandalf, and Bilbo were still focused on me.
I shook my head and leaned back on my seat, having finished eating. "No. That was merely an accident."
"Well, thank Yavanna for that," Bilbo said cheerily, "had it not happened I would certainly not be here right now."
He thankfully pretended he didn't see my slight flinch at those words and instead patted my hand with a kind smile, if a bit melancholic.
"I never did thank you for saving me, Mairon. So, thank you. Truly."
"We are friends, Bilbo. You never have to thank me for helping you when you find yourself in need."
Bilbo blinked, stupefied, but smiled joyfully – if a bit misty-eyed – and nodded.
I still had doubts as to how things would go once we eventually left Beorn's home behind. What I would discover about this slightly unknown Middle-Earth, and what I would find out about myself.
But here, in this moment, around old and new friends, the future didn't seem so bleak anymore.
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We spent the night in Beorn's house, and at one point Helga and Randi thought it a good idea to cuddle up to me all night long, because when I woke up I had two small, warm bodies around me, one drooling and the other playing with my hair.
I gave Helga, who was the one messing with my red strands, a bewildered look once she noticed I had woken up, and she giggled.
"Hi. Ran-Ran is still asleep."
I looked at her snoring twin sister and almost rolled my eyes in exasperation.
"I can see that," I whispered at her, and she laughed, getting up.
"Papa says we cannot transform yet because we are too young."
She threw me an expectant look, as if waiting for me to say something, and I slowly nodded.
"Right. So…"
Helga huffed. "So, when we are older, would you…would you mind it terribly if Randi and I were to play with you sometime?"
My eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. Play with me…? As in, bear-form? Why on earth would they want to do that?
"I…I do not know if I can turn into a bear as well," I hesitantly told Helga, who simply shifted in place and shook her head, humming.
"Papa said you could. And Mister Gandalf said so, as well."
"Well, if they said so they must be right," I smiled at Helga, who grinned brightly in return and started shaking Randi awake.
"Ran-Ran, wake up! He said yes!"
Randi rolled away from me and sprang awake, instantly tackling Helga to the ground, and they both started rolling around the house as they giggled in excitement.
Honestly, I wasn't even sure I would see Helga and Randi again. How long would I spend here, in Middle-Earth, after we finished this mission? My grandmother was still waiting for me, but I couldn't leave Bilbo and the others like that. Who knew if Thorin, Fili and Kili would even survive. I would certainly try my best to help them, of course, but if the worst happened, the last thing Bilbo needed was me leaving him alone.
Who knew how much time would pass here if I decided to return, right?
Last time it had been thousands of years.
Just thinking about it gave me a headache.
I waved to the twins, who waved at me with identical smiles, and then continued to tousle around.
I left the house, shaking my head in exasperation, and walked towards the small clearing where the dwarves were preparing to leave.
"The ponies are ready, Master Wizard," Beorn informed me once he saw me, unknowingly making me focus on something else other than the impending temporal nightmare I'd probably be forced to confront once all the Erebor clusterfuck ended.
The dwarves and Bilbo started mounting the ponies, Thorin looking the most impatient out of all of them, and I stopped right next to Gandalf and Beorn, who were watching our surroundings with barely concealed wariness.
"You will leave my ponies before you enter the forest."
"Oh, you have my word," Gandalf told him, and I nodded. Of course, we wouldn't be taking the poor animals inside that blasted place. Just the thought of entering it already gave me the creeps.
Crows squawked somewhere above us.
"We are being watched," Gandalf said gravely, and Beorn nodded. Meanwhile, I was wondering how they knew the crows were spies and not normal crows. Was there some sort of way to even know that…?
"Yes. The orcs will not give up. They will hunt the dwarves until they see them destroyed. And I suspect…," here Beorn gave me a long look and I shuffled nervously, "that there is something more to all of this. Something even beyond Azog's hate for the line of Durin."
Gandalf frowned thoughtfully.
"Yes," he admitted, "and that is what worries me."
As Thorin suddenly told Gandalf we were wasting time, I narrowed my eyes, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, as if someone was watching me.
I turned around and gazed at the mountains in the distance. There was nothing, but the feeling was still there.
As Beorn said, I also couldn't help but shake the thought that something else was going on. Something that I was starting to suspect was related to an enemy who didn't appear to be as gone as I had previously believed.
And that thought scared me to death.
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