Skin Changer : A Hobbit FanFiction (Discontinued)

I'm not alone

Ilma watched the bear as it rammed itself against the massive double doors, bellowing its anger. A niggling of doubt tugged at her mind, demanding to know why she'd stayed outside when everyone else had rushed to safety. The answer was quite simple, really.

She'd never been in danger to begin with. As anyone who'd bothered to ask would have known.

"Hello," she called out in the ancient language of the bears. "May I ask your name?" It was always important to be polite.

The great beast stopped its growling, massive head turning to look at her. The intensity of its gaze had her frozen to the spot, and she resisted the urge to back away as it approached.

"Elf?" It asked, language halted and half formed.

Ilma raised her head. "Yes, I am an elf. May I ask your name?"

The dark eyes seemed to become alight with some inner knowledge. Again, when it spoke it was as if the language was unfamiliar. "You are visitor?"

Ilma nodded, her head to the side so eye contact wasn't broken. "Yes, I do not mean to intrude. May I ask your name?" Repetition was sometimes necessary.

It chuffed, almost a laugh, and it turned away, walking into the night. Ilma hesitated.

"Follow."

Silently, she fell into step behind it, biting her lip as she looked back at the giant cottage. Then her indignance raised its ugly head, and she turned away spitefully.

Quiet mist rolled in from the mountains, covering the valley floor. The green hills were cast in shades of blue and grey as the sun ducked behind the horizon, leaving the sky the inky black of twilight. At a thin line of trees, the bear suddenly reared, bracing itself against a spindly aspen.

"Are you alright?" Ilma rushed to its side, only to stop as the bear made the painful transition to man. He was a skin changer.

Like her.

"I apologize," he said in a voice like smooth granite. "I know not the words to reply in the old language. It has been so long since I used it."

Normally, such a lapse would be inexcusable, especially for a bear. Right then, however, she'd have forgiven murder.

"My name," he continued. "Is Beorn. And I had thought I was the last."

Ilma's hands flew to her mouth, tears burning her eyes. Of course, he knew her for what she was. How could he not?

In the darkness, his massive form seemed even larger, but it was with gentle hands that he cupped her cheeks. Dark eyes searched her face, and she blinked, letting loose her tears.

"You are a wolf."

She nodded, wiping her tears away. "Yes, I am."

Beorn heaved a world weary sigh. "Not the last, but still the last it seems."

Ilma nodded again, unwilling to let her joy be tempered. A wolf and a bear might not be able to breed, but they could still delight in each other's company. In the idea of having someone like them in the world. Finally, here was someone who knew the life of an oddity, an exhibit. Not even her brother had understood, and she loved him dearly.

Smiling, she took his hand in hers, leading him back down the hills. "Come," she said. "Let us speak over a meal."

Beorn smiled back, unaware of how bearlike the expression was.