S T A R L I G H T

C H A P T E R 1

C H A P T E R 1 - Alive, but at what cost?

~I exist as I am~

"My people were the first to live in the mountains... before the Orcs came down from the North," Beorn started, his form facing away from the thirteen dwarves, hobbit, and wizard that were momentarily sitting at his table. Beorn's mind drifted back to the past as he spoke, "The Defiler killed most of my family. But some he enslaved."

Bilbo's gaze went to the broken and rusted shackle that clung to the giant shape-shifters wrist. His gaze lowered back to the table once Beorn began speaking again.

"Not for work, you understand... but for sport. Caging skin-changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him." He finished, walking around to pour more milk into each of the companies mugs.

"There are others like you?" Bilbo questioned aloud and up to the tall man who he believed could be more than triple his height and quadruple his size.

"Once there were many."

"And now?"

"Now there is only one, " Beorn spoke, his gaze slightly lowering. "You need to reach... the mountain before the last days of autumn,"

"Before Durin's Day falls," Gandalf spoke, moving his pipe from his mouth.

"You are running out of time."

"Which is why we must go through Mirkwood,"

"A darkness lies upon that forest. Fell things creep beneath those trees. I would not venture there, except in great need." Beorn objected, however, knowing that no matter what he was to say, the dwarves, wizard, and hobbit would not give up their quest.

"We will take the Elven Road. That path is still safe." Gandalf once again assured.

"Safe?" Beorn questioned, "The Wood Elves of Mirkwood are not like their kin. They're less wise and more dangerous. But it matters not," He finished, his mind instantly thinking of the many rumours and whispers he had heard of Mirkwood and, of course, the King.

"What do you mean?" Thorin turned to face him once hearing his final statement.

"These lands are crawling with Orcs. Their numbers are growing. And you are on foot. You will never reach the forest alive," Every dwarfs face as well as Bilbo's dropped and grew stoic.

Thorin and Beorn stared at each other, before Beorn stood towering over them all, and spoke, "I don't like Dwarves." He stated, moving closer to Thorin. "They're greedy and blind, blind to the lives of those they deem... lesser than their own. " He noticed a mouse on the table. Picking it up, he held it in his large hands careful not to harm it, "But Orcs I hate more." A shadow of a smile appeared on his large and hairy face, "What do you need?"

"Excellent! We-" Gandalf began. with joy, before he was shortly interrupted by the front door swinging open and loudly hitting the wall.

The body behind the powerful force quickly pulled the door back again and slammed it shut. Locking it hastily with their form inside, facing away from the many men that presently inhabited the house. Her bright and white hair was still perfectly neat against her glowing pale skin and contrasted with the dark, burlap looking clothes. She rested her head against the door in exhaustion. "Traako.." She mumbled, Gandalf's ears immediately perked up upon realizing the Sindarin language she spoke.

"Why exactly are there two dozen orcs outside?" She questioned, turning around to come face to face with an unusual assortment of beings. "Oh." All fifteen beings inside the room looked up at her with curiosity and confusion.

What was an Elleth doing in a skin-changers house?

"Mynë." Beorn stated. Noticing how each face sitting at his table was now trained on his dear friend. True, she was beautiful and they all saw it. Her face was pointed, with no blemishes or discolouration apart from the fading bruise on her chin and slight dirt covering her face. Her lips, plump and pink which were defined with sharp and dark eyebrows surrounded by pale skin. However, it wasn't any of those features that left the company so entranced, no, it was her eyes. Surrounded by dark lashes were the brightest shade of blue they had ever seen.

Her eyes trained to Beorn, "What are fourteen dwarves and a wizard doing here?"

"I'm a Hobbit,"

She smiled down at him, "My apologies, Mister Hobbit,"

A blush formed on Bilbo's face from the moment her eyes casted down to him, it only deepened when she smiled at him. This was very unlike the headstrong Hobbit but who could blame him?

"They are travelling to Erebor, Thorin Oakenshield is to claim himself, The King under the Mountain," Beorn explained.

Her eyes snapped to the dwarf standing by the edge of the table near her tall man-friend. "You, are he?" She questioned, Thorin nodded his head shortly, not wanting to focus to much on the elf before him for he believed he may become enchanted. Mynë sighed loudly, "lovely."

Mynë began walking towards the end of the table, taking the pitcher of milk and a wooden cup, she began pouring herself some, completely aware of the sixteen sets of eyes watching her. Mynë reached over the table and grabbed the small loaf of bread, her eyes glancing up once only to notice an attractive dark haired dwarf and blonde dwarf in a trance.

"Who do you think you are?" Thorin questioned, although sounding more like a demand. She didn't falter at the sound of his deep and rough voice.

"Mynë."

Thorin Oakenshield was not the least bit content with her answer and the mindlessness she had with his question, "what is your business here?"

She took another bite of bread, before finding an empty seat at the opposite end to Thorin, she walked around before seating herself lazily over the chair. "Visiting a dear friend, unfortunately it seems he already has visitors presently," Dropping her mug on the table, Isa proceeded to eat her bread with one hand while the other hung down.

"Why would an elf stray so far from home? A lone elf is no-"

"How do you know I'm an elf?" She questioned him, cutting him off. This irked the small being greatly.

His jaw clenched, "your ears." Thorin stated, although her hair had covered them completely from any of the Company's gaze.

A small and sarcastic smile landed on her face, her hand from under the table reached up to the side of her face. It was then the broken shackles on her wrist were noticeable to the sixteen pairs of eyes, the metal clanged against one another as it slid down her wrist to her forearm. Isa moved her hair from her left ear slightly, presenting the blunted ears to them. Forcibly blunted clearly. They looked wonky and black where her points would be. Each gulped at the sight of it before she pulled her hair over them once again.

"What ears?"

Gandalf from his seat looked on at the woman. He'd met her long ago, but she went by a different name then. How much pain she had brought so long ago to so many beings, yet now forgotten forever. Until now. She was standing in front of him, the scarred Elleth.

How far she had fallen without her great love.