Content warning: This story contains Restricted (R) content, including intense violence, physical abuse, and trauma. This story is written for an adult audience.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, as none of the content is my original work. The characters are created by Stephen King and J.R.R Tolkien. The content belongs to MGM and Screen Gems, as the 2013 film remake of Carrie was directed by Kimberly Pierce and produced by Kevin Misher, and additional production is through MGM, Screen Gems, and Misher films as well as distributed by Sony Pictures.

A Delicate Predicament 

Carrie stirred from her sleep to the warm rays of sunlight peeking through the windows. She blinked her eyes and reluctantly sat up from the hay pile to find herself covered with a small blanket. A moment of confusion and panic swirled inside when she found the straw empty beside her. But then Thorin’s voice cut through the others in the flurried debate echoing from the nearby dining area, and she breathed out a slow sigh of relief.  

“The beast is going to eat us alive!” Carrie heard certain fear in Fili’s voice through the thick, log walls. Her eyebrows furrowed with worry as she rose from the hay pile and brushed herself off as much as she could. By the growing concern in the overlapping murmur, she could only guess the conversation had something to do with their questionable host. She gave a hard swallow to  steel her nerves and crept to the door. 

Goosebumps rose along her arms at the mere memory of the description Gandalf gave them. And after barely escaping the orcs, the only suitable shelter turned out to be as dangerous as the mines! It was miraculous and ironic in equal parts, and it made Carrie’s head swim.  

“There is no point in arguing.” Gandalf stood from his seat and towered over the dwarves. “Orc camps dot the countryside like blossoms in Radaghast’s garden, already on our trail as we speak. Have you all forgotten the taste of orc steel? The taste of their arrows?” He glared at each of them in turn, until he spotted Carrie standing in the doorway. He swallowed hard. “We’ll never make it alive without Beorn’s help; we’ll be hunted down before we reach the forest.”  

A weighted silence fell upon the group as the reality of the situation settled on them. Everyone nodded in agreement that they had no option but to seek his help. There was no denying what had to be done, despite her own heartbeat racing with fear. Her eyes met Gandalf’s as he called her and Bilbo to him.  

“Now this will require some delicate handling. We must tread very carefully. The last person to have startled him was torn to shreds. And Dwarves are no exception,” he warned.  

The more he outlined how best to approach Beorn, the less assured Carrie was that they would make it through the encounter alive. She looked toward Thorin, squirming with anxiety that mirrored hers. The uneasiness grew in the pit of her stomach as Gandalf fiddled with a cup of tea and a small saucer. He thrust the peace offering into her hands and huddled her out the door. There was no turning back.  

The teacup rattled against the plate underneath. She could barely contain the nervousness in her steps. A lone, tall man-figure chopped wood blocks on an old stump. The sight of him made Carrie feel like an ant; it was like she was standing before Goliath herself.  

No. Don’t be afraid; they need you. Carrie approached the figure. She stood frozen for a few seconds before trying to get his attention with a soft “good morning.” Beorn swung his axe down on another wood block. The halves flew wide as if they were terrified of his strength. Then he leaned against the handle and turned to acknowledge her.  

“Who are you?” Beorn inquired.  

“Um… I’m Carrie, just a friend of Gandalf the Grey.” She swallowed her fear and tipped her head politely.  

The air thickened as Beorn studied Carrie with a menacing glare. She cautiously extended the teacup, careful not to let the tea spill or tip over. Her grip on the teacup and saucer wavered as Beorn crossed his arms and scowled. Her breath grew shallow. One wrong move could spook Beorn and put everyone at risk. 

“Is that so? Never heard of him,” Beorn answered.  

“Well… I… He…” Carrie trailed off, unable to control her trembling.  

Gandalf stepped out from behind the door to properly introduce himself and gave Carrie a start that almost cost her grip on the saucer. Steadying her shallow breathing overshadowed her focus on the verbal exchange. They were at Beorn’s mercy and could only hope things would not take a dangerous turn. Gandalf’s pitch softened, and his gentle hand gestures looked as if he were trying to calm a wild animal trapped in a snare. This could not end well. 

She felt Beorn examine them both as his eyes darted between her and Gandalf. She felt exposed; with half a reason, he could rip her to pieces, but somehow, she managed to maintain her composure despite the weight of his intimidating gaze. Carrie watched his expression relax until Bilbo stumbled into the yard.  

“Who is he?” Beorn snarled, pointing at the interloper. “Looks like a dwarf. I don’t trust dwarves. They’re greedy, selfish, and blind to any lives they deem lesser than their own”. 

“No, no, neither of them are dwarves,” Gandalf gathered Bilbo and Carrie against him protectively. “Mister Baggins is a hobbit from the Shire; good family and unimpeachable reputation. And Miss White is a fellow traveler, from the village of Bree.”  

Carrie had little to no choice but to nod in affirmation to Gandalf’s words, even though she knew it was a complete lie. Would anyone suspect her of being an explosion of nature with her small, meek stature? She hoped her face wouldn’t give her away as Beorn searched it for verification before he glanced back over to Gandalf.  

“A halfling, a human, and a wizard. How come you’re here?” His grip tightened around the axe.  

“We’ve encountered some trouble along the way,” Carrie replied.  

“What kind of trouble?” 

“Oh, well, we’ve come across a delicate predicament in our journey through the wilderness to reach the Lonely Mountain,” Gandalf answered. 

“Is that right? Surely this is a type of ‘predicament’ that a halfling, a human, and a wizard can’t handle alone.” Beorn snarked. 

A loud “oof” drew everyone’s attention. Dwalin and Balin tumbled out of hiding from behind the back door, tripping down the wooden steps. One by one, the individual dwarves emerged from increasingly precarious hiding spots. The company revealed themselves so fast, Gandalf’s words stalled in their feeble attempt to introduce each one. Carrie could only watch as Beorn’s expression became more incredulous and baffled after every individual dwarf. Silence weighed upon the assemblage as Beorn’s eyes scanned the entire group.  

“Is that it? Are there any more?”  

The minute he spoke, Thorin stepped into view and approached. Beorn’s gaze rested upon Thorin; his eyes squinted with a careful examination. Then he released his grip on the axe, and it fell to the ground with a soft thud.  

“Very well.” He turned and walked towards the entrance. The company gave each other uneasy glances and finally followed Beorn inside. Carrie’s breath rushed out in a sigh. She could only hope and pray they would make it out of this alive. 

Editor: Shannon Hensley