Skin Changer : A Hobbit FanFiction (Discontinued)

Introductions

Thorin Oakenshield muttered under his breath as he followed the tall wizard’s lead through the forest, his blue eyes trained on the canopy above. He’d never liked trees, having lived the entirety of his young life underground, but this forest seemed more alive than the others he’d encountered, the trees leaning toward each other in secret council.

“Ah,” Gandalf said, pausing to lean on his staff. “On time, as usual, I see.”

“What?” Thorin demanded, not keen on any more surprises.

“Her.”

The dwarf king’s gaze followed the old man’s staff to where it pointed in the underbrush.

“There’s no one there,” Bofur whispered, exchanging concerned glances with Bombur, who grunted.

A rustling interrupted their murmuring, and they drew their weapons, nerves frayed after the troll incident. Loud and blundering, a great brown bear burst into the scene, its nose twitching as it whined at the dwarves.

“Gandalf!” There, on the beast’s haunches, sat a woman in white, her dress barely brighter than her skin, her hair falling in snowlike waves down her back. Her pale brows were creased with worry as she continued. “Thank goodness I found you!”

“Now, now, Ilma,” the grey robed wizard interrupted. “I would like to introduce you to my companions-.”

“There is no time for that, Gandalf!” She slid from the bear’s back, whispering in its ear in a language Thorin didn’t understand, though the animal seemed to, as it ambled off into the forest without so much as a glance behind. “There is something wrong in the forest, and Radagast has gone to track it!”

“Radagast? You mean the wizard who lives in the forest and talks to animals?” asked Bilbo, and the woman turned to regard him oddly.

“Yes,” she answered at long last, and the poor halfling squirmed beneath the intensity of her gaze. She then, quite suddenly, knelt down before him, her pale violet eyes, already wide with curiosity, made wider by her long, white lashes. “Are you a hobbit?” she asked, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, revealing it’s pointed tip.

“Ah, yes, yes I am.” Bilbo answered uncertainly, glancing up at Thorin, who was livid. He’d never expected to encounter elves on his mission to reclaim his homeland, and, even if this one was proving quite odd, he did not plan on letting one know of it.

Gandalf placed a hand on the pale elf’s shoulder, drawing her focus back to him. “You said Radagast had gone somewhere?”

“Ah, yes!” She bounced to her feet, all levity gone from her countenance. “There were spiders as wide across as men, Gandalf! The likes of which I have never seen! Come,” she gathered her skirts in one hand, stepping over a fallen log with practiced ease. “I will take you to him.”

“Not so quickly, elf.” She turned to Thorin, a beautifully confused expression on her face. “I will go nowhere with you.”

She cocked her head. “I’m sorry, I had assumed that you would prefer to stay together, but if you don’t want to come you don’t have to.”

He bristled visibly; did this elfmaid not recognize a dwarf when she saw one? If she did, was she so removed from the troubles of the world that she couldn’t realize why he would not follow her?

Gandalf gave a weary sigh. “It’s not where you lead, but the fact that you are elfkind that dissuades him so.”

She scoffed. “Well, what’s that got to do with anything?” She gave Thorin her full attention, her eyes looking him up and down before moving on to regard the rest of his Company. “Thirteen dwarves would be more than enough to overpower me should I prove a threat - which I won’t. Really, friend Dwarf, you should not worry so,” she stepped up to him and placed one pale finger between his furrowed brows. “You’ll age.”

He took a livid step back, his hands holding his newfound blade between them, the elfwoman’s eyes widening, hand still hanging in the air. “Do not touch me, elf!”

Everyone was still for a long moment, the only movement the elf’s eyes as she looked from her hand to Thorin’s face. Then she pulled her arms around herself, seeming to shrink with the gesture. “My name is Ilma,” she said quietly, her eyes downcast. “May I ask yours, Master Dwarf?”

For a split instant, Thorin almost felt guilty for driving her into her shell, her exuberant personality gone from sight. Just when he might have allowed that feeling to mature to fruition, a rustling even greater than the one the elf had made upon the bear rang out through the forest, all the dwarves raising their arms against what foe had made it. Rabbits burst from the underbrush, pulling a sleigh behind them where an odd man in brown shouted unintelligibly, his gaze wild as it darted about the party.

“Radagast,” Gandalf chuckled familiarly, sheathing his sword. “It’s Radagast the Brown!” He approached his fellow wizard with a smile on his face. “What on earth are you doing here?”