Farmhouse, in the courtyard.
From dawn till noon, Beorn either kept chopping wood nonstop, feeding the animals in the pen, or harvesting honey from the beehives behind the yard.
In short, there seemed to be endless work to do.
Ino, maintaining a great deal of patience, stayed silent and waited for Beorn to finish his tasks.
As the sun reached its peak, Ino finally spoke when Beorn finished cleaning the last sheep pen:
"Mr. Beorn! If it's possible, I'd like to invite you to lunch and let you taste some candies I brought from my homeland, as a small payment for allowing me to stay here last night."
"Alright! Ask whatever you want to ask quickly," Beorn said woodenly, then turned his gaze toward the mountains not far away.
"It seems you won't be able to leave today; set out early tomorrow morning. Follow the Misty Mountains east, cross the Anduin River, and by dusk, you'll reach the nearest human town."
"Haha! Thanks for the directions. Of course, lunch is still on me," Ino laughed sheepishly.
At this moment, he also put away any contempt he had. This skin-changer, who had lived from the Second Age till now, seemed to be wise in proportion to his size—not only was he large, but also very wise.
...
Half an hour later.
Ino laid out a heap of chocolate and a considerable amount of butter toffee on the large dining table.
Considering Beorn's size, these candies had been unwrapped from their exquisite packaging with the help of household magic.
In simple terms, they were bare candies, ready to be eaten by hand.
Similarly, as the farm owner, Beorn brought out freshly baked whole grain bread, two large bowls of honey, and some picked fruits.
Looking at the huge wooden bowls on the table filled with freshly scooped honey, even with a few bees floating in them, Ino did not show any sign of disgust. Instead, he enjoyed dipping the bread in the honey.
This kind of pure natural honey was sometimes hard to come by.
"Mr. Beorn, have you encountered any dwarves in recent years?" Ino asked nonchalantly while eating bread.
"Dwarves? Greedy, persistent, and stingy," Beorn said, shaking his head in denial. "There haven't been any dwarves here for a long time, so long that I've almost lost track of time."
"Is that so? To be honest, I don't like dwarves either. If they could let go of their greed, their civilization might be even more brilliant."
Ino casually voiced his thoughts. In Middle-earth, if dwarves could indeed rid themselves of their greedy dragon-sickness, they might truly create a different kind of brilliant civilization.
However, due to their greed, even after experiencing many misfortunes and disasters, they remained unchanged.
Of course, the protagonist of the Smaug story, the last king of the Lonely Mountain's Durin's Folk, Thorin Oakenshield, did break the curse of dragon-sickness but also died in the Battle of the Five Armies.
Looking at the history of the dwarves, they always seemed to be unfortunate and unloved. Whether it was the era of the Mines of Moria or the later Kingdom under the Mountain, their fate was always troubled.
Ino understood this, considering that among the Children of Ilúvatar, the elves as the firstborn and humans as the younger ones received more of Ilúvatar's favor.
As the second in creation, the dwarves being somewhat overlooked was understandable.
...
Several minutes later, after finishing his last piece of bread, Beorn said, "These candies are quite good, especially the toffee. It gives me a faint sense of happiness, probably because of some magical ingredient."
Hearing this, Ino, surprised, put down his food and said, "Perhaps, but I never thought of that, just that they taste very good."
"Fleeting happiness can sometimes be intoxicating," Beorn said, slowly closing his eyes. Moments later, he reopened them, his gaze turning deep.
"I don't know why you came here, but the Misty Mountains have changed. The dark aura has infected the forest, and the Woodland Elves are just retreating and yielding…"
"If possible, leave early tomorrow! I haven't seen a human wizard in a whole age."
Ino seemed to understand why he was being treated kindly. From Beorn's tone, he heard a sense of nostalgia and gratitude.
"I will leave!" Ino said calmly, "To be honest, I have no particular purpose, just passing through."
"Oh! As you wish," Beorn nodded slowly, then said, "After dusk, you'd better stay inside. I admit you have some of the grace of the old human wizards, but your strength is still somewhat weak, at least not enough to pose a fatal threat to me."
"I'm not going out at all today!" Ino responded without hesitation.
...
After lunch, Beorn got busy again, seemingly driving the cattle, sheep, and horses to graze.
Having nothing to do, Ino used transfiguration to turn a rock into a wicker rocking chair. Lying leisurely in the courtyard, he basked in the sun, making up for the sleep he lost last night, and fell into a comfortable sleep.
At dusk.
The breeze from the Misty Mountains brought a slight chill through the courtyard. Ino slowly opened his eyes, having had a very restful nap. After all, Beorn's name was feared among the dark forces.
Even Azog the Defiler, the chief of the orcs, dared not attack this farmstead with his elite warg riders, nor even harass it.
After waking up, Ino looked around the courtyard but didn't find Beorn. He probably turned into a giant bear again and went to the Misty Mountains to avenge himself on the orcs.
From the midday conversation, learning that no dwarves had appeared recently, Ino had already determined the timeline. It should be before the story of Smaug happened. During this time, if he went to the human world, he would enjoy a relatively peaceful period.
This also led him to decide to set off early the next morning, heading east across the Anduin River to live in the White City for a while.
As for the story of Smaug, it would unfold and conclude naturally.
...
Before nightfall.
Just as Ino was about to make a simple dinner, he heard the rumbling sounds of a giant bear running outside the farm gate again. Instinctively, he grabbed his wand but soon put it back in his pocket. Beorn wasn't a werewolf; though he got a bit irritable after changing skin, his basic sanity remained. Otherwise, not even the livestock would survive, and the farm would be barren.
As the sound got closer, the farm gate suddenly opened.
"Fili! Quick... Bombur, run, it's going to bite your butt!"
A boy, about five feet tall, equivalent to a human of thirteen or fourteen years old, suddenly squeezed in from outside.
Next, like a pot of boiling dumplings, one, two, three, four...
"Close the gate!"
At the command of one of the dwarves, everyone worked together to close the farm gate, almost pinching the giant bear's nose in the process.
___
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