Chapter 28

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Elfreda woke early the next morning, her head feeling like a brick. She sat up slowly holding her head in her hands and groaned slightly. The straw bed she lay on rustled as she rolled over and put her feet on the cold stone floor. Holding onto a wooden panel for balance, Elfreda stood up slowly and found her feet.

Walking slowly to the kitchen, smells of warm porridge filled Elfreda's nostrils. Her stomach growling, she joined the company around a huge dining table. The seat Elfreda chose she had to jump to get on.

Beorn poured milk from a huge jug into slightly smaller cup. The cups were still ginormous and the dwarves had to use both hands to drink it with.
"So you are the one they call Oakensheild. Tell me, why is Azog the Defiler hunting you?" Beorn asked. Everyone went quiet and put down their mugs. Thorin looked at the huge man with shallow eyes.
"How do you know of Azog?" Thorin questioned.

Now it was Beorn's turn to stop what he was doing. Holding the jug in his hands, the huge man let out a long relieving breath.
"My people were the first to live in the mountains, before the orcs came down from the north. The Defiler killed most if my family, but some he enslaved. Not for work you understand, but for sport. Caging skin changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him,"

The room went strangely quiet as the company looked down at the table, all of their minds were full of sorrow for the skin changer and his lost family. It was silent in the whole house for a few moments until Bilbo broke it with another question

"Are there others like you?" he asked, his voice still low and respectful but inquiring. Beorn took his time and cleared his throat. The giant man put the mug of milk on the table with a small slam. A drip jumpped out of the brim and landed on the table with a soft spolsh.

"Once there were many," started Beorn " now there's only one. But I'm not the only endangered race in this room" Beorn looked at Elfreda. She ignored his gaze by looking into her up and swirling the milk in it. But then she felt everyone looking at her, their eyes stabbing her in the back.

Elfreda ran her fingers through her hair, sat back and drummed her fingers along the large oak table.

"Living in a false reality often makes the pain of being alone a little easier," she said "but now is not the time to dwell on this matter,"

Everyone was still quiet but a different atmosphere hung around them.

Beorn spoke up again "You need to reach the mountain before the last days of autumn."

Gandalf, who was sat at one of the corners of the table, sat up straight and replied "Before Durin's Day falls, yes. We must go through Mirkwood,"
Beorn looked at Gandalf with defiance in his eyes. There was something he was about to say which could change their plans.
" 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"

Elfreda looked up from her cup and stared at Beorn. Her father was already gaining forces of darkness. How long had he been growing under the noses of the finest people of Middle Earth?

Gandalf did not notice and continued to talk to the giant man "We will take the Elven Road, their path is still safe,"

Beorn snorted a short laugh and shook his head. The forest was not safe no matter what Gandalf thought.
"The Wood Elves of Mirkwood are not like their kin. They're less wise and more dangerous"

Bilbo sat next to Elfreda although, he could of been sat a few meters away due to the size to the chairs. He noticed that she was in deep thought, her eyes glazed and staring off into the far distance. There was something dark about the way she sat there, frozen to her place and her unbridled hair fraying out all over the place like a lions mane. He wondered what she was thinking about.

However, Elfreda was not thinking about anything. She had zoned out of the long conversation and had focused on the crackling fire behind the dwarves sat in front of her. The flames danced and crackled, flying and diving around the fire place.

After everyone had finished their breakfast, Beorn took them all outside. He told them to stay put whilst he strode off round the back of his house.

A few moments later, Beorn returned, leading thirteen large black and white ponies and a brown quarter horse. He handed them over to the company
"I don't like dwarves, but I hate orcs more," he said. The dwarves were cautious to take the ponies off of Beorn but he insisted.

Elfreda was not handed one. Beorn said that she needed to stay because of her head injury and she could do nothing to change his mind. She stood in a huff on the porch with her arms folded. Suddenly, her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

Kasper trotted through the open gate. He whinnied and threw his head back as soon as he saw her. Elfreda ran up to her favourite horse and wrapped her arms around his neck. She buried her face in his dark mane, tears of joy trickling down her cheeks.
"I've missed you, dear one!" she laughed.

The rest of the company were mounted and walking out of the gate. Thorin turned his pony around and looked down at his friend
"I'm sorry you could not come but your injuries do need to heal," he said. Elfreda huffed, her arm still around Kasper.

"Hey, I wish you could of come with us," said Fili. Elfreda smiled and nodded as the young dwarf rode with the rest of them. As each dwarf rode past they put a hand on her shoulder in farewell.

"Now go, whilst you have the light, your hunters are not that far behind." Said Beorn.

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