After putting his clothes back on and giving a few simple instructions for his kinsmen to clear the battlefield, Beorn walked over. Looking at Garrett, Gwaihir, and Gandalf standing before him, he seemed somewhat dazed.

“I didn’t expect such a small skirmish to draw the attention of the Lord of the Free Settlements, the Lord of the Great Eagles, and even one of the Istari.”

“I’m truly honored.”

“We just happened to be discussing some matters at the aerie.”

Gandalf stepped forward to explain. “This was unexpected for us as well. It was Gwaihir who first noticed the disturbance here, and then Garrett rushed over in such haste that he left us far behind.”

His tone was rather helpless.

“I suppose the orcs now understand that the new folk in the Vales of Anduin are not to be trifled with.”

The ground was littered with evidence to prove that point.

Gandalf prodded at the orc corpses on the ground with his staff, shifting them aside to clear the way.

The Beornings’ settlement returned to peace. The villagers busied themselves with disposing of the bodies of orcs and wargs, while Beorn brought a wooden table from the timber-built hall and placed it in the adjoining courtyard.

After all, Gwaihir was present; the three of them could hardly go indoors and leave him standing outside.

Garrett waved his hand dismissively.

“No need for elaborate hospitality. We’re fine, just happened to see what was going on and lent a hand.”

“To me, your aid is far more than merely ‘lending a hand.'”

Beorn glanced toward the faint outline of the great road in the sky.

“Thanks to that road, much prosperity has flowed into our lands. That help is real and undeniable.”

“Let’s continue our earlier topic, if there’s anything you require, we’d be pleased to help.”

“There’s nothing special. You’ve already done everything you could.”

Thinking of the documents and reports he’d seen in Lake-town’s administrative offices a few days prior, Garrett added, “Besides, you’ve already done a lot.”

Once the road had extended to connect with Beorning territory, they had voluntarily assumed responsibility for maintaining the section between Mirkwood and the Misty Mountains, a task that benefited both parties.

“By the way, about those beehives and the giant bees you keep, I’d like to take some back to raise myself.”

Beorn’s bees were, to put it mildly, extraordinary.

They were enormous, nearly half the size of a fist, yet gentle in temperament, never stinging people. They were also rather cute: plump and golden, with round bodies, their wings fluttering as they hovered in the air… a bit like… Bombur.

“Certainly, we’ve already discussed that.”

“Where do you plan to keep them? I can deliver them to you.”

Beorn added, “I should warn you, their habits differ somewhat from other bee species. I can explain these differences and what you’ll need to monitor.”

“Don’t worry about that, I have some rather special methods.”

Seeing Garrett’s confidence, Beorn simply nodded, giving up the thought of instructing him.

Perhaps he truly did possess special means, much like Radagast the Brown, the wizard who cherished nature and all manner of creatures, and could communicate with them, whether fierce or gentle.

Wargs excluded.

“Very well, I trust you can manage it. It seems the beekeeping manual I’ve been compiling won’t be of any use to you.”

Beorn said with regret, “That might have been one of the few things I could have taught you, what a pity I cannot give you proper instruction.”

Instruction?

Garrett felt a chill run down his spine and quickly changed the subject.

“I think it’s about time for a meal!”

Beorn glanced at the sun sinking toward the horizon in the distance and tactfully dropped the subject.

“Indeed it is.”

A short while later, firelight rose in the courtyard.

Gwaihir perched nearby, consuming the fresh meat Garrett had specially brought, eating with great delight.

These eternally fresh and perfectly preserved cuts of meat, never mind Gwaihir, even Gandalf sometimes felt the urge to sample them.

But Garrett never let him.

“If you think your teeth are up to it, you can give it a try.”

Carrying over a basket of honey cakes specially made by Beorn, along with some wild fruits, vegetables, and dairy products, he began to display his culinary skills.

Sizzle.

Before long, a plate of roast meat appeared before Gandalf, with a small piece of raw beef placed at the edge of the plate.

Gazing at its enticing crimson hue and marble-like texture, Gandalf finally couldn’t resist. He tentatively speared the small piece of raw meat with his fork and chewed thoughtfully.

Gulp.

“It lacks much flavor, but I cannot say it’s unpleasant,” was his verdict.

“In the past, when I really had no time to cook, I’d sometimes eat raw meat too,” Garrett recalled from his early days as a newcomer, starting fresh in the wilderness.

“Chicken excluded.”

That one, eaten raw, carried a thirty percent chance of inflicting a hunger debuff, definitely not worth the risk.

“For you to have no time to cook at all… I cannot imagine what circumstances that would entail.”

Obviously, it was the sort of situation where you’d depart without provisions, go hungry, and get chased, until you couldn’t keep running unless you ate something immediately.

“Best not to think about it.”

“Very well, I won’t pry. Let it remain in your memories.”

Having satisfied his curiosity about raw meat, Gandalf turned his attention to the other food on the table.

The leaf Beorn was chewing actually appeared… quite appetizing.

So he took a bite.

That bite left Gandalf silent for several moments.

Why am I attempting to compete with someone who only eats raw meat and someone who only consumes vegetables?

Even so, a honey cake Beorn had baked himself was quite excellent, almost like a milder version of lembas. One piece could restore substantial satiety, and it tasted wonderful besides.

Garrett took a bite and was pleasantly surprised.

This was genuinely excellent, far more suitable as travel rations than jerky or roast meat.

On the other side, Beorn keenly noticed the change in Garrett’s expression after tasting the cake.

“This cake is a closely guarded secret of our skin-changer kindred. But you’re an exception, if you promise not to share the recipe carelessly, I can teach you how to make it.”

“I’d be delighted.”

Garrett readily accepted. Although, truth be told, he had already unlocked the recipe after encountering the baking oven and cake in Beorn’s home, he didn’t mind learning more about such things.

This trip had been quite fruitful, he’d gained the recipe for Beorn’s special honey cake, which restored even more satiety than roast meat, and a large beehive.

Naturally, the hive contained many bees, but before leaving, he took only two.

Two were enough.

The rest could be left to the miraculous breeding system.

Before parting, Beorn looked at Garrett several times, as if about to speak, but each time stopped himself at the last moment.

“Something wrong?” Garrett asked the skin-changer leader.

Beorn looked toward the wide road that stretched across the forest and the two river valleys, eventually merging into the Misty Mountains. He thought of the marvels in Garrett’s domain, and most importantly, the tales about how he welcomed his people. On his rugged, resolute face, a rare look of uncertainty appeared.

“No… forgive me, it’s nothing.”

Beorn sighed, then added, “Please grant me some time to consider.”

“Consider?”

Garrett studied Beorn for a few moments, but couldn’t tell what he was thinking about.

“Alright, whatever it is, take your time. Say it if you want, keep it to yourself if you don’t. I won’t pry. After all, there’s still plenty of time.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep