From Westeros to Middle Earth

Chapter five: Desolation of Smaug

                                                12 months later:
Bilbo Baggins pulls himself up onto a ledge of rocks to peak over them. Laerornien crouches beside him as they carefully watch Azog on his white warg along with a small group of other orcs, scouting the area, looking for the company. They quickly duck behind the rocks when Azog looks their way. When the wargs move on, Bilbo takes a look again, only to gasp, ducking back down. Laerornien sends him a confused look before peering around the rock she's behind to look for the cause of Bilbo's concern. Standing in place of Azog, is a gigantic snarling bear. Laerornien turns to Bilbo, putting a finger to her lips before pointing in the direction of the waiting company, silently telling Bilbo to sneak away. She follows behind the scurrying hobbit, her footsteps silent as a ghost as they try to get away unnoticed by the beast.

"How close is the pack?" Thorin asks Bilbo when we finally make it down the rocks and to the waiting dwarves.
"Too close. A couple of leagues, no more. But that's not the worst of it." Bilbo answers.
"Have the wargs picked up our scent?" Asks Dwalin.
"Not yet. But they will soon." I answer taking a seat on a nearby boulder.
"We have another problem." Bilbo tries to tell the group.
"Did they see you? They saw you." Gandalf interupts.
"No, that's not it." Says Bilbo.
"What did i tell you? Quiet as a mouse." Gandalf tells the dwarves as they murmur in agreement, once again cutting Bilbo off.
"Will you listen? Will you just listen?!" Bilbo raises his voice slightly, getting the group to pay attention, "I'm trying to tell you that there is something else out there." He explains. The dwarves exchange worried glances.
"What form did it take? Like a bear?" Gandalf questions.
Laerornien's POV
"What is it you know Gandalf?" I ask from my seat, curious as to how Gandalf knows the bear.
The dwarves start to bicker back and forth about what to do before being cut off by Gandalf.
"There is a house...it's not far from here, where we might, uh, take refuge." He says, not sounding too confident in his words.
"Whose house? Are they friend or foe?" Thorin grumbles.
"Neither. He will help us or...he will kill us."
"Well that's comforting." I mumble to myself.
"What choice do we have?" Thorin asks the wizard as we hear a loud roar headed our way.
"None." I say getting off the rock as the company takes off running, Gandalf at the lead and me right behind him.
"THIS WAY! QUICKLY! RUN!" Gandalf shouts.
The company makes it to the house just as the bear comes into view. They bang on the door, trying desperately to get it open, not noticing the latch above them until Thorin shoves his way through, undoes it and pushes the door open as the company stumbles through as quickly as they can, shouting as the bear gets closer and closer to them. The dwarves shout and grunt as they try to shut the door, fighting against the bears huge head, trying to get in the door. With one final push, the door is shut and the latch is places back on the door.
"What is that?" Ori asked, slightly out of breath from the run and pushing against the bear.
"That is our host. His name is Baeorn. He's a skin-changer. Sometimes he's a huge black bear. Sometimes he's a great strong man. The bear is unpredictable, the man can be reasoned with. However, he's not overfond of dwarves." Gandalf explains.
'Great, it's not like the majority of the company are dwarves or anything, OH WAIT, IT IS.' I think sarcastically with a shake of my head.
"Now, get some sleep. All of you. You'll be safe here tonight." Gandalf reassures the group.
The company drops their packs and weapons, each finding a place to sleep. I take a seat on the window ledge so i can look out at the forest that lies beyond the large grassy fields surrounding the house. My home, Mirkwood. As i sit there i rest my cheek on my knees with my arms wrapped around them, gazing out at the place I've missed most, thinking about the people I've missed most.
My eyes slowly flutter shut as sleep takes over my body, pulling me into a dream world.

Dream:
Laerornien appears in large open field. She gasps, taking a step back in shock, her heart beats faster and her breath picks up as she slowly rotates, looking around. The field is covered in bodies, elves and orcs scattered everywhere. The elves once bright golden armour, now dull with dirt and blood. She gasps once more when she looks up from the carnage to see a single elf. One out of what looked like hundreds maybe thousands, it was hard to tell. She watches as the lone elf riding an elk rides past her like she's not even there with his head hung low. Laerornien runs after the elf, moving to his right side to get a better look at his face, turning to walk backwards slightly faster than the walking elk. She puts her hands to her mouth to suppress a cry. The lone elf, is her father, King Thranduil. But he's different, tears begin to well up in her eyes as she takes in the sight. No wonder she didn't recognize him at first, his once silvery armour, is now black with ash, but that isn't why she didn't recognize him. The skin is gone from the left side of his face, his left eye is white and blind, the muscle tissue is exposed. The longer i look, the more i put together the pieces. Only the left side of his armour is blackened with ash, fire did this. As i glance back to some blackened parts of the field i realize, not just any fire. Dragon fire. As i take everything in, i turn around and slow my pace to walk alongside the elk as i get lost in my thoughts. I knew father had a battle wound he keeps hidden from others with an enchantment and I've heard the story of how he got it, and i've seen small glimpses of it when he would loose his temper, but never have i seen it to it's full extent. Unshed tears gather in my eyes once again as i think about what i saw. Father's told me about that battle in my history lessons, but to actually see it, makes my heart ache, not able to imagine that pain, he went through. It was always obvious that even after thousands of years, it was still hard for him to talk about in those lessons. I never fully grasped why it was hard for him back then, but looking at him now, the look on his face could make anyone's heart shatter. His head is hung with his eyes clamped shut, his eyebrows furrowed. The absolute pain on his face, not for himself, but for the entire army that was lost, half of his total army, gone. 'He blames himself, i know he does' i think to myself as i observe silently. It's not his fault. Oropher didn't listen.
I'm broke out of my thoughts when the scene around me changes, me and Thranduil are now entering the Mirkwood courtyard. A very, very young Legolas comes running into his father's arms. Thranduil holds him tight as Legolas goes on a rant about how worried he was, not getting the chance to see his fathers wounded face as Thranduil had put on the enchantment as soon as he entered the courtyard. Thranduil interupts the rant, asking a question as Legolas takes a breath.
"Where's your sister?" Thranduil asks, taking a moment to look around the courtyard, looking for the little girl knowing that her and Legolas were usually glued at the hip. Not seeing her, he turns to his son, worry slowly growing in his chest as he takes in the look on his son's face.
"Legolas, where's your sister?" Thranduil asks again, a little more frantic. Legolas bursts into tears shaking his head as he buries his head in his father's chest.
End of dream.