Chapter Seven: Queer Lodgings
Bilbo peered over the rock from whence the company was hid. A day had passed since the company had been rescued from the eagles, and now the sun was rising on said day. He looked to see mounted figures riding across the distant mountain tops, and though they were definitely orcs, they looked to be the same brethren of the late Azog. Across the way, he heard a roar and cowered to see a giant of a black bear watching and snarling at the orc pack intently.
Bilbo slipped quietly away to rejoin the company, and they waited for him to report his scouting.
"How close is the pack?" Dwalin asked.
"Too close," Bilbo panted. "A couple of leagues, no more, but that's not the worst of it."
"Have the wargs picked up our scent?"
"Not yet, but they will; we have another problem."
"Did they see you?" Gandalf interjected. "They saw you!"
"No, that's not it."
"What did I tell you?" Gandalf smiled. "Quiet as a mouse. Excellent burglar material."
The dwarves all chuckled at Bilbo's appraisal, however the ponies could see there was a plight overcoming his mind.
"Hey guys. Guys!" Hitch interrupted. "I believe Bilbo's trying to say something else."
"Thank you, again," Bilbo exasperated. "I was trying to tell you there is something else out there."
The company became unusually silent, however Gandalf's was more with worry anticipation than worrying fear.
"What form did it take? Like a bear?"
"Ye..." Bilbo stopped and caught something in his words, a sort of familiarity. It was not surprising that Gandalf knew more than he told, although more often then not his knowledge came at the last minute. "Y-yes, but bigger. Much bigger."
"Exactly how big is the average bear?" Zipp asked.
"About 130 to 600 pounds for the males, and 90 to 175 pounds for the females," Hitch replied without delay. "I keep myself busy reading encyclopedias on my off time."
"Those wouldn't happen to include outdated ones, by any chance?" Sunny smirked.
"I threw them out last Tuesday, but how'd you know about it Gandalf?"
Gandalf simply turned away, not pondering his response but calling on his memory in part of some little details that had been misty for a long while.
"I say we double back," Bofur spoke up.
"And be run down by a pack of orcs," Thorin hissed.
"Unless we can hold out for while somewhere secure," Hitch suggested.
"Quite right," Gandalf said to himself. "There is a house, it's not far from here, where we can take refuge."
"Whose house," Thorin spoke. "Are they friend or foe?"
"Let's hope it's the former," Sunny sighed.
"I like bears! They're so strong and fearsome!" Izzy beamed, to Bombur's hungered uneasiness.
"Neither," Gandalf replied to Thorin. "He will help us, or he will kill us."
"What choice do we have?" Thorin mused.
"It's either seek refuge with someone who has the potential to end our journey, or end our our journey for sure at the hands of an orc pack bent on vengeance," Pipp surmised, as soon as the sound of a roaring bear broke through the morning light.
"We...don't have one...do we?" she said to Gandalf, with great hesitation.
"No," Gandalf bluntly replied.
In no time flat, the company was rushing for cover across plains of grass and flowers separated by smooth surrounding fresh streams, and each one left Pipp more soaked than the prior, though her motivation remained the same as the others: keep ahead of the orc pack as long as dwarvenly and ponily possible, not to mention hobbitly and wizardly. Soon, the fields gave way to a wooded area, dense enough to keep just ahead of the pack through the rugged terrain.
Suddenly, the roar pierced again through the sky, and the company halted in anticipation.
"The pack's stopped in their tracks," Zipp analyzed. "However something else has taken up their trail-"
The roar over the trees jumped her out of concentration.
"This way, quickly!" Gandalf shouted.
"Bombur, Izzy! Come on!" Bofur cried, dragging his cousin and the unicorn out of their temporary state of shock.
The company rushed like they had not yet, and exiting the woods to yet another plain they spotted a ring around a distant house covered by the tree foliage.
"To the house!" Gandalf shouted. "Run!"
Not taking any chances, and to the bewilderment of the company, it was big and tubby Bombur who made the quickest dash for the gateway through the hedge. Izzy and Sunny were right behind him, galloping past giant buzzing bumblebees pollinating near their larger than life hives.
"Wow!" Izzy exclaimed stopping dead as the company rushed behind and passed her.
"Open the door!" Gandalf cried from behind.
"Quickly!" Thorin added, rushing up and through the company barred outside the front door.
"The bumblebees are absolutely ginormous!"
Sunny quickly turned her neck to see the great fearsome black bear rushing right for them, almost nearing through the gate.
"Never mind the bees!" she cried in fear. "Mind the giant bear!"
She then grabbed Izzy and forced themselves behind the company and in passed the door, the dwarves holding it shut as the bear forced its muzzle through and opened crack. The ponies and Bilbo stood guard, holding their elven weapons at the ready, say for Sunny who kept herself tightly close around Izzy, in the more state of fear than the unicorn who caught the attention of a little white mouse.
Gandalf meanwhile, stood back undaunted and taking in a humorous intake at the scenery before him.
"Come on, lads!" Dwalin cried, and with one final heave, the door fully closed as the dwarves drove out the frightening beast of burden.
"What was that?" Ori panted, still in a state of shock and weariness shared by the other dwarves.
"That," Gandalf said. "Was our host."
"The bear, you mean...right, Gandalf?" Hitch stammered.
"I course I do. His name is Beorn, and he is a skin-changer."
"You suppose he pays his mortgage?"
"What do you mean by, 'skin-changer?'" Zipp intrigued.
Izzy helped Sunny steadily to her flat hooves, while she was still shaking.
"You alright?" Izzy asked.
"Apart from almost being mauled by a bear," Sunny unevenly panted. "Everything's dandy."
"You in particular have nothing to fear from Beorn," Gandalf kindly consoled.
"What do you mean?"
"Question after question. To answer yours first Zipp: sometimes he's a huge black bear; sometimes he's a great strong man. The bear is unpredictable, but the man can be reasoned with. To answer your question Sunny: he spends himself surrounded by the kindness and comfort with the woodland critters and untamed roamers of the world. However, he is not over-fond of dwarves."
Izzy happily embraced Sunny while Hitch and the pegasi sighed in shaking weariness, however the dwarves looked to each other in dismay.
Ori peaked through the door, mostly for confirmation's sake on his fears. "He's leaving!" he whispered back to the company.
"Come away from there!" Dori cried, dragging his brother back in recoil. "It's not natural, none of it. It's obvious: he's under some dark spell."
"Don't be a fool; he's under no enchantment but his own," Gandalf reprimanded. "Alright now, get some sleep, all of you. You'll be safe here tonight. I hope," but he muttered it to himself.
"Even with an amount of daylight left?" Hitch asked.
"Never mind the daylight," Pipp yawned. "I need rest anyway."
"What exactly does she mean by, 'feed nest?'" Oin asked, having trouble hearing through his squashed trumpet.
Using her magic, Izzy then gently took the trumpet and a small flower from her saddlebag before reshaping the trumpet while simultaneously tying the small flower. Once finished, she handed it back to Oin, or more or less levitated it to his hand.
"Fain Rhazmal; Wild Violet," Oin analyzed. "The flower that is said to never wilt. These are sought after for their fragrance and yet none have found one! Where did you find it?!"
"Just outside the house!" Izzy beamed.
Oin immediately put the trumpet to his ear, and became smitten with such a smell that he hugged Izzy without second's thought. After he went off to a place to sleep, Bifur and Bombur approached Izzy, with Bifur revealing from behind his back a small wooden carving the exact shape and color of the bubbly unicorn. Izzy took one look at the small toy before squealing with delight, enough to blow the roof off, embracing both cousins with such gleeful ferocity that Bombur himself was knocked onto his rump.
"THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!"
Pipp could only smile at her friend's joy as she cuddled comfortably beside her sister, who wrapped her wing around for protection's sake, not that Anvil did not provide any adequate, as such it was limited to only moments of combat and not for eventide's moments of peace. Hitch laid up Anguirel beside Dagmor as he slumped right to his dream without another halt of a snore, while Sunny took some time of reminiscing about the journey thus far before all her conundrums drove her to deep sleep.
Later on into the peaceful evening, Zipp was awoken by the smallest and seemingly insignificant sounding sound that cracked the evening's sounds. She looked over to where Bilbo was sleeping, except instead of sleeping he was twiddling with a small object in his fingers; something with a shine of gold, and a small voice uttering in an ugly sing-song and unfamiliar language:
"Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul,
ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum ishi krimpatul."
Not only did it sound ugly but also riddle with the tone of evil.
"Mmm...mmm, oh yes...yes, right there," Pipp mumbled in her sleep. "So comfortable...so handsome..."
Zipp could only roll her eyes as she too went back to being overcome with whatever sleep was left to recuperate from her systems.
By the morning the sun was shining bright with such a natural beauty, and Hitch was slightly startled by the sight of such humongous bumblebees buzzing right at his face, about the size of his hoofprint. The rest of the company were all gathered at the back door, to the sound and sight of the giant man Beorn chopping wood on a stump with an equally giant-sized ax.
"I say we should leg it and slip out the back way!" Nori suggested.
"I'm not running from anyone from anyone, beast or no," Dwalin gruffed.
"Why should we run from him?" Izzy asked, perplexed. "He's kept us alive and safe, right?"
"True," Zipp added. "I mean, you don't see the orc pack anywhere, do you?"
"There is no point in arguing," Gandalf huffed. "We cannot pass through the Wilderland without Beorn's help. We'll be hunted down, if only we get to the forest."
Just then, Bilbo stuck his head out from behind Thorin, Kili, and Sunny.
"Bilbo, there you are. Now, this will require some delicate handling; we must tread carefully. The last person to have startled him was torn to shreds. I'll go first...Bilbo, Sunny, you both come with me."
Bilbo pointed to himself in stuttered shock, though reluctantly followed behind Sunny after Thorin nodded him forward.
"I'm not so sure about this," Sunny whispered.
"As you once told me: have hope," Hitch smiled.
Sunny felt reimbursed, however dire she also felt about the precarious situation.
"I-I-Is this a good idea?" Bilbo stammered.
"Yes. Now, the rest of you wait here, until I give the signal."
"Right, wait for the signal," Zipp noted.
"Right, and no sudden movements, no loud noises, and don't overcrowd him. Only come out in pairs," Gandalf whispered with emphasis. "Well, actually Bombur um...you count as two so you come out alone.
Bombur continued to eat his larger than life carrot, nodding consolably.
"Remember, wait for the signal." Gandalf began to quietly lead Sunny and Bilbo out in his stead, the company nodding in agreement.
"Hey, what signal would that be?" Hitch turned to ask before seeing they had already left.
Sunny and Bilbo could tell Gandalf was visibly nervous in his steps, for he used to walk so precariously in his boots and staff, though the hobbit and pony looked to each other with a similar fear-ridden smite on both their verily differently shaped faces. Gandalf stopped, swallowed, and slicked back some of his hair before continuing down to where Beorn continued his chore.
"You're nervous," Bilbo noted, right at the sound of another ax chop.
"Nervous?" Gandalf mused. "What nonsense."
He was just larger than Gandalf in height and mass, his face and head covered in a great amount of hair, and wore only a pair of pants on top of leathery and worn shoes. However, Sunny noticed a broken bracket of a chain clamp on his left arm, with only a few links of chain attached.
"Good morning!" Gandalf greeted.
Beorn did not seem to hear Gandalf's voice, as he just went on slicing two more blocks of fresh tree wood.
"Good morning," Gandalf tried again, this time Beorn heard his greeting, and slightly annoyed that someone was impugning on his simply responded, without turning around:
"Who are you?"
"I am Gandalf. Gandalf the Gray."
"Never heard of him.," Beorn growled, now facing his visitors, but not loosening his grip on the ax.
"I'm a wizard!" Gandalf hesitated. "Perhaps you've heard of my cousin, Radagast the Brown. He resides in the southern borders of Mirkwood."
"What do you want?" he growled again, clearly growing impatient as Bilbo and Sunny hid behind the supposed safety of Gandalf's cloak.
"Well, simply to thank you for your hospitality," Gandalf smiled, regaining some amount of courage. "You may have noticed that we took refuge in your lodgings last night."
Bilbo and Sunny then poked out from behind Gandalf, Sunny hoping for a closer look at the host of this astounding ranch. Beorn looked down at the new looking creatures, and while he was intrigued at Sunny's presence he still remained skeptical about the wizard's true intentions.
"Who is this little fellow?" Beorn jumped as he steadied his grip.
"Please, don't hurt him. We mean you and your home no harm," Sunny whimpered, loosing her courage and will power as the great man stared down on her.
While Beorn was unsure about the little pony's origin, he had spent a lifetime raising and maturing young foals to adulthood enough to understand that she was very much unlike the ponies that roamed freely among and around his lands. However different she looked and acted, she also felt scared at his presence, and rightly so. Beorn gently down his ax, and approaching an overly cautions Sunny he knelt to her level, while she backed up two paces. He then slowly stuck out his arm, not smiling but lessening his frown; she then cautiously approached to where he could stroke her mane.
His hands, though gruff and worn with labor and age, also felt meaningful...and fatherly. She then allowed him to embrace her fully, a gentle, warm and welcoming; it was like being hugged by Argyle, like he had not fully died. Her fears of this stranger dried out as her tears washed away in her eyes. He not only felt friendly, but trusted in protection.
He unembraced Sunny, feeling congratulated at her young and wonderful smile, before he stood and looked down to Bilbo.
"This uh, would be Mr. Baggins, from the Shire," Gandalf stammered, as Bilbo became fully visible to Beorn, who shifted his ax in suspicion.
"He is not a dwarf, is he?"
"Why, no, no. He is a hobbit of a good family and unimpeachable reputation, a halfling." Bilbo felt flattered at Gandalf's introduction of him.
"A wizard and their pony. How come you here?"
"Oh, well the fact is, we've had a bad time of it, from goblins in the mountains."
"What did you go near goblins for?" Beorn eyed down the wizard with hubris. "A stupid thing to do."
"You are absolutely right-"
Back in the house, Bofur and Zipp had been watching and listening to Gandalf's conversation, Zipp mostly feeling honored that Beorn took the care of animals as a high priority, and comforted that neither her nor Sunny had any reason to feel frightened or threatened by their host. Bofur then picked up on when Gandalf waved his arms in a downward motion.
"There it is!," he whispered. "Go, go, go!"
Dwalin and Balin took the first go out, with Beorn immediately holding his ax up in a defensive ahead of Sunny, growling at the sight of what he assumed to be intruding dwarves.
"Dwalin, and Balin," Dwalin introduced.
"And I-I must confess," Gandalf stammered. "Several uh, of our group are in fact...dwarves. And ponies."
"They mean no harm to you either," Sunny looked up to Beorn.
"Do you call two several?" Beorn demanded to Gandalf. "And I do not believe that one pony counts as several either."
"You are right again," Gandalf replied, making a motion with his hand.
This time Zipp and Pipp made their presence known, and while Beorn was not at ease with the strangers he was somewhat less angered and more intrigued at the knowledge of their being here than the dwarves.
"Princess Zephyrina, call me Zipp," Zipp introduced, bowing in respect. "And this is Princess Pipp, my sister."
"What are they?" Beorn asked, less fearful.
"They are pegasi," Sunny explained. "Ponies that can fly. I'm an earth-pony."
"Earth-pony? Is that what you call yourself?"
"Well uh," Bilbo squeaked. "It's like how we call ourselves hobbits, while everyone else calls us halflings."
Beorn looked down to Bilbo, not at all pleased at his interruption, but softened slightly when seeing that this little fellow had no intentions of crossing paths with him.
"You still have not answered me," Beorn growled to Gandalf. "Do you call two dwarves several?"
Well, uh, when you put it that way," Gandalf stammered. "Uh...no...um, well there could be more than two." He made another waving motion with his hand.
Oin and Gloin came stomping out beside Dwalin. "Oin and Gloin," the greeted, bowing.
"And now here are some more of our, uh, happy troupe," Gandalf amused.
"And do you call six a troupe?" Beorn growled, this time raising his temper.
Gandalf laughed nervously. "And what are you?" Beorn added. "A traveling circus?"
Still nervously laughing, Gandalf simply shrugged, and Bofur then ushered the last of the company's ponies. Beorn was only slightly intimidated by the sword at Hitch's side, but he did ease at the sight of such a friendly purplish pony.
"Hitch," he introduced, bowing. "And this is Izzy, a unicorn."
"I can do this!" she smiled as she used her magic to paint a small face onto the nearest rock, before giving it to Beorn. He amused himself at the small present, before gently placing it on the nearest windowsill.
"And is there only five of you?" he asked to Sunny.
"Just us five ponies," she replied.
"And I suppose you still believe to call only six a troupe?"
Gandalf laughed nervously again, right before Dori and Ori cautiously appeared in front of Dwalin and Gloin. "Dori and Ori," Dori introduced, bowing. "At your service."
"I don't want your service," Beorn growled again; apparently it was his habit of doing so before dwarves.
"That's absolutely understandable," Gandalf calmed.
Bofur caught the next hand movement, right before he sent out Thorin's nephews, more confident about their approach to their host.
"Oh, Fili and Kili," Gandalf introduced. "I quite forgotten."
"Rather pleasant fellows, as dwarves go," Zipp added.
Then, quick as lightning, the last of the dwarves rushed out to Beorn's viewpoint, minus Thorin of course.
"Nori, Bifur, Bofur..." Bofur quickly tore off the napkin on Bombur's neck. "...and Bombur."
"Is that it?" Beorn asked, not exactly growling as before, as he had now vested an interest in the meaning of the dwarves coming to his home, though the rest of the company were still nervous about the threat he still posed. "Are there any more?"
It was then that Thorin appeared behind Bombur, with Beorn looking towards him with surprise in familiarity.
"This is-" Sunny began.
"I know who he is," Beorn said, though all the more calmer than before.
He gave in, the company had won his humored interest, and so within a sort span of time he and his other permanent lodgers prepared a fair enough luncheon; mostly fruits from the nearby trees the bumblebees kept pollinated. Thorin politely refused, and Balin and Gandalf both finished as Beorn came back with a refilled jug of milk.
"So, your the one they call Oakenshield," he said to Thorin. "Tell me, why was Azog the Defiler hunting?"
"Was?" Hitch asked.
"I have heard of your exploits, Master Trailblazer, from a little mouse."
A white mouse hiding in one of the nearby rafters perked up its nose.
"Then, if Azog's dead, who's after us?" Hitch asked, trying his best not to sound arrogant or angry his host.
"His name is Bolg the Violator, son of Azog." Beorn growled at both names, while the dwarves looked down in resentment or to each other in fear.
"Azog had children?"
"He ate his first during infancy, but Bolg he raised himself, after his mate died during the birth."
"Um...begging your pardon, I don't mean to talk out of point, but how do you know Azog?"
"My people were the first to live in the mountains, before the Orcs came down from the north. The Defiler killed most of my family, but some he enslaved."
It was then that he got the best look at Beorn's manacles, or thankfully what was left of them.
"Not for work, you understand, but for sport."
"S-s-sport?" Pipp stuttered.
"Caging skin-changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him."
"There are others like you?" Bilbo asked.
"Once, there were many." Beorn's voice took a saddened tone, one that Hitch recognized as being similar to that of Elrond's recollection of Turin.
"And now?"
"Now, there is only one."
The entire table stared at Beorn in stunned silence. The atmosphere had quickly changed since the day before from dread to tragic mourning, Sunny in particular the most in silence.
"Excuse me," Pipp sighed, getting up from the table. "I need a moment."
Hitch watched in worry as she got up and slowly walked out the front door, head and wings drooped low; never once had she removed Anvil.
"Will she be alright?" he said to Zipp.
"I'm not sure," she replied sharing his worry. "I can't remember the last time she was this quiet at a meal table. I think I should talk to her."
"No uh...I'll, talk to her."
Hitch stepped down from the table, thanked his host with a bow, and carefully though not as meticulous as he hoped to be. He kept a sizable distance from the bumblebees, at least from landing on his body but not from buzzing loudly into his ear, they must have been in a playful mood that morning. Pipp stood outside in the garden, watching the worker bees buzz about the warm breeze and pollinate all the beautiful flowers, looking over Anvil. She never once contemplated removing the elven shield the moment she slipped it over her front hoof.
Presently, Hitch's presence became known to her.
"I'm doing fine, I just...need a moment alone."
"Did...Beorn's backstory touch you in some way? I uh, didn't mean to intrude," Hitch shyly stammered.
"I don't mind at all," she meekly smiled. "To be honest, I...kind of need company right now."
"Why? Is something on your mind?"
"Well...it was Beorn said about Azog torturing his family."
"What about it?"
"I, uh...I don't know what to say, really."
"It's alright, take your time. Use your words."
"I'm just confused. I mean, on the one hoof I'm glad he's dead and deserved to die, but...on the other hoof-"
"I killed him," Hitch nodded consolably. "I understand where you're coming from: trying to justify the killing of another, but killing is still killing."
"Don't you mean murder?"
"Murder is when someone or pony kills another of their own. Azog was a monster, nothing more and nothing less."
Pipp looked to the stallion, taking in how staunch he was not just in appearance. It was like the sun had purposely shedded the appropriate amount of light through his no longer slick mane, though the shine of the sheriff's badge was unclean she did not seem to mind the growing rust spots.
"You know," Hitch sighed. "I don't believe I thanked you."
"Uh, what for?" Pipp asked, slightly taken aback.
"For saving me back in the Misty Mountains. Killing Azog was one thing, but I could not have protected Thorin for long on my own."
"Oh, that. Have I told you where I got the name for Anvil?"
"Where have you?"
"It was back in Goblin-town, and the...whatever he was, called your sword the Anvil. 'Stronger than stone,' he said. And after I shoved off an entire gathered group of goblins, I felt like this old thing is fitting of title of being stronger than stone."
"It is fitting, and it has taken to you...rather obediently, so to speak."
"As has your splendid sword to you."
The pony friends stared rather awkwardly to each other, unsure about what to say to each other that did not remotely sound across the line or insulting. Perhaps it was the glint in Pipp's eyes that finally motivated Hitch to speak up.
"If you don't mind me saying, you're...different."
"What do you mean?" she asked, tilting her head in amusing intrigued.
"Well, uh...if, you remember when I-we, you know...met, I thought you were...uh...um..."
"Go ahead, you can say it: spoiled, self-centered, entitled...arrogant. That was who I definitely used to be...and I so greatly wished to never return to that."
"To be honest, I, uh...like, like you anyway?"
"You, uh...mean better, right?"
"Um..."
Hitch scratched behind neck, while Pipp straightened her mane. Presently, a more smaller bumblebee buzzed passed them catching their attention, right until it buzzed passed a waiting Thorin in the doorway.
"Oh! Thorin, my liege," Hitch nervously bowed.
"Our apologies!" Pipp followed suite, and in familiar manners.
"No apologies necessary," he smiled. "Sir Hitch, Lady Pipp, make haste. We're leaving for the forest of Mirkwood." They could hear the disdain in his voice, like he harbored a grudge about what the place stood for or meant. Whatever it was, no doubt they were to soon find out.