Skin Changer : A Hobbit FanFiction (Discontinued)

Elf, Schmelf

When Thorin came to, the first thing he saw was Gandalf, and the rising sun behind him. All around him knelt his comrades, battered and bruised but smiling.

"Where's the hobbit?"

Gandalf smiled. "Don't worry. Bilbo is here. He is safe."

Thorin struggled to his feet, grudgingly accepting help from his fellow dwarves. The look of relief on the hobbit's face was like a blow to the gut.

"You!" He began, his tone harsher than he anticipated. "What were you doing? You could have been killed." Bilbo's face fell, and Thorin lowered his voice. "Did I not say you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild? That you had no place amongst us?" Thorin swallowed hard as the smaller man looked away, fighting tears. "I have never been so wrong."

Bilbo stood stiffly in Thorin's rough hug as the dwarves cheered behind them. Pullin away, their king was quick to hide his smile.

"I'm sorry I doubted you."

"No, it's alright. I would have doubted me, too." Bilbo gave a self depricating laugh. "I'm no hero. Or a warrior. Or even a burglar."

The Company shared a laugh as great eagles flew overhead. Thorin could only assume that they were how he'd come to be on the plateau.

"Ah," Gandalf began, his eyes on the sky. "Here she comes. Quickly, all of you, behind me. Thorin, stay where you are."

Confused, Thorin followed the wizard's gaze. A giant eagle, larger than its kin, was descending upon the carrock, its mighty wingspan blocking the sun. It was an impressive beast, to be sure, but it was its snarling cargo that caught - and held - his attention.

By Mahal, it was the animal that had fought the white warg! The eagle dropped it gently on the rock, the beating of its wings sending great gusts of wind down on the Company. As the sunlight hit the carrock once more, Thorin saw his savior for what it was - a wolf, or kin to one. As tall as he at the shoulder, it cut a menacing figure even as it lay bleeding on the rock.

"Gandalf," Ori asked hesitantly. "What is that?"

"That," Gandalf replied. "Is your dear friend, Ilma. Guardian of the wood."

The dwarves burst into conversation and the wolf's - elf's - one ear lay flat on her head. With a guilty start, Thorin realized that her injuries had come of defending him. From his own stupidity, no less. Just like Bilbo. Setting his shoulders back, he took a step forward.

She didn't growl, only locked her eyes with his. He knew well that she could snap him in two, should she wish it.

"What is he doing?" Someone whispered harshly behind him. He ignored them.

"You were right," he said quietly as he approached her. "Wargs can't climb. The cave floor was hollow. I am not mad. And I have been cruel. You were right, so very right." He reached out, touching her tattered ear. Her fur was soft beneath his fingers, and he could feel her hidden strength as she turned to face him. Her hot breath blew across his face as he held hers between his hands. "Ilma," he said thickly. "You were right."

A gentle breeze ruffled her fur, light glaring off the white strands. Thorin turned away, closing his eyes. He opened them in shock when a small hand clasped his wrist. The elf was smiling up at him, tears running freely down her cheeks.

"Of course, I was. I always am."

Thorin marveled at the magic of her for a moment before regaining his composure and noticing that her hair was the only thing lending any semblance of modesty to their situation. He looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. Shrugging out of his overcoat, he lay it gently over her back. Her smile widened and she looked as if she might speak, but her expression twisted as she fell into a coughing fit. She swayed, and would have fallen had she been standing. As it was, she leaned awkwardly to one side and retched, blood spilling from her lips onto the stone. She stared at the blood on her hands and her face fell in anguish.