The Last of the Guardians Part 2 - A Hobbit Fan Fiction

Chapter 2 - The Lost Home

"I swore an oath that I would not reveal what I knew of the Guardians. Telling you that I was saved by her would involve breaking my oath."

"But now you need not worry about breaking your oath, might you enlighten me on what truly happened?"

A new voice spoke up then from behind them saying, "If this concerns our Nema, I would know what happened too." Thorin approached the hearth, the golden light of the rising sun shining in his eyes as he passed the window.

Beorn cast his eyes over the other dwarves, who seemed to still be sleeping. "Very well, but do not refer to her as yours. Nema is no ones to claim." Thorin frowned, but nodded in agreement, so Beorn continued. "The orcs had killed my people and were coming after me when I met Nema for the first time." He began to tell them of that night, and though it was so many years ago, Beorn could remember it clearly, as if it had been only yesterday.

***

Darkness reigned in the forests bordering the misty mountains. Even with his bear eyes, Beorn's sense of sight was playing tricks on him. Every shadow, every bush and every tree was a threat, and he lurched from side to side as he tried to avoid the worst of the darkness. Screeches pierced through the forest and the foul stench of orc hung heavy in the air.

Stumbling into a tree brought Beorn to a stop and he listened to the calls of the orcs. They could not be more than a few moments away. He pushed on through the forest until at last the trees began to thin and he could see the man in his moon, bright in the dark sky. Then smoke passed across the moon and the land grew dark once more.

Smoke? thought Beorn. The smell of orc was completely masked by the thick smoke coming from a smouldering structure that sat just within the boundaries of the forest. Beorn lumbered over to it, and sniffed at the blackened mess, all thoughts of the orcs tracking him forgotten. The collapsed structure looked to have once been a small woodcutter's cottage, but it had been reduced to smouldering ashes by a recent fire. The ground surrounding it was still warm.

A new smell reached Beorn's nose then; strange and unfamiliar. He passed an eye over the black ground, and froze when he realized he was not as alone as he'd thought. A child no older than seven was crouched amongst the wreckage, shaking violently with heavy sobs. She looked unharmed, but was covered from head to toe in soot. It appeared as though she had not noticed Beorn, as she was curled up with her face buried in her hands.

Beorn almost left her there, but the pain he could hear in her sobs broke his hardened heart in two, and so he morphed into his human form and crept towards the girl. Before he had moved three steps, she looked up at him with fear-filled eyes that pierced through his very soul. A starlted cry escaped the child's lips, and she threw herself protectively over a blackened lump lying between her and Beorn. On closer inspection, Beorn saw that the lump was, in fact, a body.

Crouching, Beorn reached out a hand to the girl, moving slowly so as not to frighten her. "Child," he said in a soothing tone.

She flinched at the sound of his voice, and eyed his approaching hand with suspicion but did not move away. Beorn took her hand in his, which seemed a lot easier than it should have been. Perhaps she had decided he could be trusted, for she allowed him to help her to her feet too. But when it became clear to the child that he was going to take her out of the shell of the cottage, she pulled back, looking at the charred body.

"You must leave here," Beorn told her. "It is not safe. There is no longer a place for you here."

"This is my home," she protested, almost yelling at him.

Yet even as she spoke, the stench of orc began to fill Beorn's nose, and his eyes widened. As if sensing the change in him, the child huddled against his leg in fear - his enormous size meant that she only just reached his knee.

"There is danger," she hissed, sounding more angry than afraid. "Come, I know a safe place." With one last look back at the remains of the cottage, the child ran off into the night.

She was fast for one so small, and though he did not wish to scare her, Beorn had to morph back into a bear to catch up. When he did, the girl gave him one look before grabbing his fur and swinging up onto his back. There had been no fear in that look, as if she had known his true nature from the start.

The child guided him from his back, tugging his fur this way and that when he began to run in the wrong direction. They could hear the orcs behind them now, cackling and clanging their weapons together as they hunted Beorn. A blackened village rose up around them, smoke rising from the smouldering embers. Burned bodies lay in the streets.

They rode on and soon the village fell behind them. The smoke began to clear and the moon shone brightly upon them. But silohuetted against the silver orb was a towering rock, so high it seemed to touch the thin wisps of cloud in the sky.

Is that where we are headed? Beorn thought. How is that safe?

When he reached its base, Beorn looked up at the rock to see a young eagle perched on the plateau at the very top. It seemed to be beckoning him up. In the same moment, Beorn noticed the weight of the child on his back was gone. He sniffed around the rock for her, but she was not to be found. The eagle, impatient for him to start climbing, swooped down and pecked at his ear before flying up again.

There seemed to be no way out of it. Morphing once more into his human form, Beorn began to scale the side of the rock. It's surface had been made smooth by years of being caressed by the wind, but here and there were footholes and handholds that he could grab and use to pull himself up.

It seemed to take forever, but at last he was heaving himself up onto the very top of the rock. He lay on his back and panted at the moon, amazed that the orcs had not seen him in his ascent. When he tried to sit up and look over the edge, a small hand was laid on his chest.

"Don't move," whispered the child.

How in the fiery pits of Mount Doom did she get up here? Beorn thought to himself, completely bewildered. But he did not move.