"Good morning," greeted Miquella to the newly awakened. He gently lifted a huge bee—nearly the size of his hand—and held it up at Leda's eye level. "Leda, look—'big-bees.' They make delicious honey; I want you to try it later." He paused, smiling with playful mischief. "It's finger-licking good," he added, hinting—perhaps—at what he planned to do next to annoy his ever-stoic knight.
"Hey, don't squeeze them so hard," protested Beorn, though his bees, like the rest of his animals, seemed far too comfortable around the boy to be truly bothered.
"Greetings, Beorn. I am Gandalf, and these are—" began the wizard with a courteous bow.
"No need for introductions," Beorn cut in with a half-smile. "Eldens, dwarves, wizard… and Bilbo. The boy has already told me about each of you. And honestly, almost everything you might have said yourselves. Come along—breakfast is nearly ready."
Leaving his axe embedded in a tree trunk, he turned toward the house, with the company following behind him, still somewhat astonished by what they had just witnessed.
...
The company now found themselves inside Beorn's home—an unusual dwelling even for that world: spacious, warm, and nearly devoid of metal. Everything seemed crafted from wood, stone, or natural fibers. It was a peculiar house… as peculiar as its owner.
Beorn did not resemble his counterpart from the film adaptation, save for his towering height. His black hair and beard gave him the appearance of a Viking warrior, and though he was indeed a naturally hairy man, he lacked those exaggerated eyebrows. There was in him a wild strength, yes—but also a sense of order and calm shared only by animals.
Everyone sat around a large rustic table, enjoying the abundant breakfast Beorn had prepared: fresh fruit, golden honey, thick cream, warm milk, newly baked bread, and several fragrant pastries.
Miquella lifted the massive wooden jug before him—larger than the beer tankards he had seen in taverns—clearly designed for hands the size of Beorn's. The skin-changer had filled it with the purest, most delicious milk his animals produced.The boy couldn't resist bringing it to his lips and drinking without pause, delighting in the heavenly taste with no concern for appearances. In fact, Leda had to hold him by the back when, in his enthusiasm, he nearly leaned too far backward.
"So… your group is the one that took down the Goblin King, huh?" Beorn asked as he continued pouring milk into the others' bowls.
The dwarves ate ravenously, grateful for such a generous feast after a long and exhausting journey. It was exactly what they needed.
"Yes…" one of them replied with shared pride. "That giant goblin won't be around to see another dawn."
Though none had slain him alone, they viewed the victory as a collective effort. None believed any single member could have managed it without the others.
"Then this meal is well deserved," Beorn declared, finishing the servings before leaning against one of the wooden pillars. "Those goblins should have been buried in their own tunnels." His expression shifted slightly as he let out a sigh. "But I'm afraid I have bad news. If you plan to reach the mountain before autumn… it won't be easy."
"And why is that?" Thorin asked, his unease showing even before the answer came.
"Orcs," Beorn replied solemnly. "Many orcs. More than have ever been seen in these lands."
A heavy silence fell over the table.
"I know you've already fought your way past the goblin armies… but this region is no better off."
"We've run into those orcs already. They're nothing but a minor nuisance," said Dwalin dismissively, trying to lift morale—while also masking his own worry.
"I hope you're right," Beorn responded gravely."Orcs are not something to trifle with. They arrive, hunt, and wipe out everything in their path. This place isn't safe at all with the numbers they've been gathering lately. I fear… they're preparing for something big."
The skin-changer took a long sip from his jug before continuing to serve the others.
"If there are so many, how is it they don't reach this place?" Bilbo asked, genuinely curious.
"They come constantly," Beorn corrected with a mild growl, "but I have some friends who help keep them at bay."
"Friends? Others like you?" Bilbo asked wide-eyed, imagining an entire village of people as large as Beorn… and thinking at the same time that Melania would fit surprisingly well in such a place.
"No. There are no others like me anymore… and if there are, they're too far away to keep contact." Beorn shook his head. "My friends are other beings: creatures from a faraway land who settled in the nearby forests long ago."
Miquella raised an eyebrow, recalling what had happened on their way here, and considering Beorn's ability to transform and his affinity with animals. He put the pieces together quickly.
"You mean the runebears? The huge ones with runes carved into their chests?" he asked while licking the milk from his upper lip.
"Yes, those," Beorn confirmed. "And other creatures of the forest. Many have come to these lands and multiplied here. I get along with all of them, and together we keep the orcs who would ravage this region at a distance. You've been lucky not to encounter them directly… because if angered, they're not nearly as reasonable as I am."
The dwarves, Gandalf, and Bilbo exchanged uneasy glances—they had all seen firsthand the brutal efficiency with which those beasts tore orcs apart.
The Eldens, meanwhile, observed Beorn with genuine curiosity, intrigued by how this man could coexist so harmoniously with creatures from their own homeland.
"If you want to reach Mirkwood quickly, you'll need help," Beorn added at last. "And I'm willing to give it. Think of it as payment for dealing with so many of the goblins from the mountain."
With that conversation concluded, the company finished breakfast and rested a little more while preparing their belongings. True to his word, Beorn provided a few supplies and offered several horses and ponies. There weren't enough mounts for everyone, so he went out to ask his "friends" of the forest for assistance.
They appeared soon enough. From the trees emerged a pair of runebears—or rather, hybrids between runebears and the beasts native to the forest. They were enormous, imposing, and while not openly hostile, they didn't give a comforting sense of safety either. Miquella, of course, couldn't help but wonder how such a hybrid was even physically possible, considering the drastic difference in size…
The bears growled softly, tense, yet Beorn spoke to them as though addressing people or his own animals. They seemed to listen… or at least pretend to. Still, no one in the company dared attempt to mount them; no dwarf, hobbit, or Elden wished to test just how thin a runebear hybrid's patience might be.
In the end, most preparations were complete. But wanting to recover as much energy as possible before facing the orcs roaming the area, the company chose to stay until after lunch.
The only downside, at least for some, was the menu: no meat. Beorn was strictly vegetarian. Gandalf had warned them the previous night not to mention hide-hunting or trading in the skin-changer's presence unless they wished to be torn to pieces. So nobody dared say a word.
During that time, Beorn got to know the dwarves and the Eldens better. His curiosity toward them grew, and through the exchange of stories and questions, a small friendship began to form. Miquella, meanwhile, spent every moment admiring the place. He met several of the animals—some surprisingly intelligent—and couldn't help imagining creating, someday, a haven just as beautiful and peaceful to rest in once all fighting was done.
He also summoned Torrent. The imposing steed left Beorn speechless, though communication between them was not simple—Beorn could speak to animals, but Torrent…It felt like the first time he had tried communicating with creatures from the Lands Between.
After the brief but necessary rest, and once lunch was over, it was time for farewells.
Originally, Beorn had offered to escort the Company, guiding them to the entrance of the Elven Path. However, unexpected events altered his plans. The imminent arrival of a large orc horde forced him to change strategy: he intended to attack the creatures with the other bears, creating a distraction that would allow the Company to travel more safely.
"We'll visit you again, Beorn. And I hope to eat more of your pastries!" Miquella called to the huge man. "And think about what I told you… my people could use someone like you."
"I'm not exactly sociable," Beorn replied, uncomfortable with the boy's enthusiasm. "I prefer my house in the countryside… and my animals."
"But surely you'd want to be surrounded by your people. And maybe I can help you find them again," Miquella added without further explanation. Then he patted Beorn's back—an amusing gesture, given their size difference.
Miquella returned to his sister, and together they approached the runebears. The boy's aura seemed to calm the beasts' ferocity, so he would be the one to ride them in case anything went wrong. Torrent, meanwhile, became Leda's temporary mount.
Miquella and his sister would ride the same bear, with her protecting him at all times. On the other bear would travel Bombur and Moore—the two heaviest members of the group.
Thus, the company set out, bidding farewell to Beorn as he went the opposite way to prepare his ambush against the invading orcs.
Horses, ponies, and bears raced across the fields while Gandalf led the way.
Miquella rode against his sister's chest, absorbing energy through his ring. As the journey continued, he pondered how he would face Smaug. Though he had strong and numerous forces, he preferred to be even better prepared and use every advantage he had—something that required gathering enough energy. He also wondered what would soon unfold: whether events would follow the film, the book, or if—like the number of orcs—the story had already deviated entirely. And he wasn't the only one thinking inside his mind; Trina's whispers grew stronger each day.
The journey remained peaceful for a good while, until trouble finally came. Orcs continued to invade those lands, and a patrol eventually spotted them.
Fleeing was an option—but only temporarily. If that patrol alerted the others, everything would become far more dangerous. So as long as they moved forward, any orc who found them had to be eliminated.
With the two runebears—who seemed to harbor a particular hatred for orcs—small scouting parties were not much of a threat. The real problem was that these massive beasts struggled to come out of their battle frenzy once they entered it, and if not for Miquella calming them with his power, the company would already have lost their mounts… and might even have had to fight them.
The only good thing about all this tension was that Miquella's ring kept charging. After what happened at the Lonely Mountain, its absorption capacity seemed to have improved.