Chapter 14

More Time in Rivendell

Chapter Notes:

{...} elvish

[...] Khuzdul

/…\ Iglishmek

((…)) telepathy

The small chunk of italic is Elrond remembering something he Saw.

Some more Nori for 2ClassySluts. I wasn't planning on him being part of that scene, but sneaky Nori showed up anyways. I hope you all can understand what he is saying. In most cases a 'ff' in Nori's speech is replacing 'th'. Hope that helps.

oOoOoOo

Thorin had slept fitfully and so, despite being the last to go to sleep, he was the first to wake.

He would have to get word to his mother and sister about his father's death. Thorin wished that he could tell them in person. If Tharkun had told him in Bree he would have had the opportunity, but now he could not delay in case the quest went ill.

That meant asking the elves for assistance in delivering a letter. Thorin's lip curled at the thought.

Feeling restless and not wanting to wait around for the others to wake, he went to seek out the Lord of Rivendell to inquire about the possibility.

Thorin's explorations first led him to find Lady Galadriel sitting alone at a table. It felt as if he was meant to find her and she had been waiting for him, so he took the seat across from her. She was giving him that look that made him feel exposed, but still he would not look away.

"I am not surprised King Thranduil did not help your people fight the dragon," she began. "If my own realm faced the same threat, I doubt he would order his warriors to aid me either. It was not because of your race, or perhaps not entirely, that he did not fight, but because of fear. We all have great fears that motivate us. You fear failing your people and falling to the madness that took your forefathers. Thranduil fears losing his son as he lost his father and wife, and dragons, for he has faced them before."

"Why are you telling me this? Do you think this will make me forgive him?" This was hardly a topic Thorin liked to discuss, let alone first thing in the morning.

"Forgive? No, but perhaps some understanding will help improve things. After all, if you are successful in retaking the Lonely Mountain, he will be your neighbor once again. I do not agree with Thranduil's decision to turn and leave. He could have provided aid in other ways. There would have been those that marched with him that possessed healing gifts, besides himself, that could have been put to use at the very least. Or perhaps he did and the offer of aid had been refused. I do not know."

"Why would we refuse aid?"

"On four separate occasions in the first year of your exile I sent out messengers to Thror offering aid. The first two never returned and their fate still remains unknown. The third he refused to see at all. The fourth he granted an audience but declared that his people needed nothing from - what is that you like to call us? Tree-shaggers?" she gave him a small smile.

"I have never heard anything about this before."

"I have the written rejection back in Lothlorien. I know Lord Elrond sent offers of aid that were refused as well. Perhaps he has something in writing, too, if you want to see proof. Your grandfather was mad. I do not tell you this to upset you, but point out how madness can make a king who was once a good ruler behave irrationally to the detriment of his people. Keep that in mind when you face the gold in Erebor."

They sat together in silence for some minutes, to let Thorin think over the new information before Galadriel continued.

"If you choose to continue to Erebor you will face the gold sickness. It is a trial I believe you are fated to meet. The potential I see in you is tied greatly to how you handle it. I fear things bode ill if you should succumb and embrace the madness. But it will be your choice whether to become hero to the people or tyrant."

Thorin nodded in acknowledgment of her words.

"What is your great fear, Lady Galadriel?" Thorin could not resist asking, though he did not expect to receive an answer.

"The world falling to Sauron's shadow and my ceasing to be Galadriel."

She received a questioning look.

"Yes, I fear a madness of my own, and I believe the day will come when I will face that trial just as you will."

oOoOoOo

Thorin continued on his quest to locate the Lord of Rivendell. He found him reading in a small open air pavilion that was lit by the rising sun.

"Lord Elrond," Thorin said as politely as he could.

"Thorin Oakenshield," the Elf Lord greeted him, closing his book. "How may I assist you?"

The Dwarf King hesitated for a moment to swallow a bit of his pride. "Would it be possible to have a letter sent to Ered Luin? I need to inform my mother and sister of my father's fate."

"Of course, just make sure you do not mention the Dark Lord or Dol Guldur," the Elf Lord reminded him. "When you have finished, bring it to me and I will send a rider to deliver it. Do you need any writing supplies?"

"That would be appreciated."

"I will have them delivered to your suite. Should any of your company, including Bilba, wish to write letters of their own to their families, they will be delivered as well."

Thorin bowed his head. The Lady Galadriel's words still swirled in his mind, leaving him slightly distracted.

"Thorin," Elrond said calling his attention back. "I am truly sorry about your father."

"Thank you," he said. "There is a tradition among dwarves to honor the dead with a toast."

"Would you like to do so at dinner? We would be honored to salute your father's life with you."

"Dinner will be fine," Thorin agreed.

"If you are amenable, I could show you the painting of Sauron and the One Ring now," Elrond offered.

"Yes, I think that would be a good idea."

Elrond led him to a circular room with a statue in the center. Across from its front the elf pointed out a mural on the wall.

"This is a depiction of Sauron just before the Ring was cut from his hand by Isildur," Elrond told him "As you can see, it is a gold band and the letters glow with a fiery light. I do not have a more detailed drawing. Those were made by Isildur after he came into possession of the Ring. If they still exist, they are probably buried somewhere in Gondor's archives."

It was true that the mural wasn't the most detailed piece, but it did give Thorin a much better idea what the One Ring looked like. He thought he would be able to recognize it if he were ever unfortunate enough to come across it. Though he supposed fiery letters glowing across the surface were uncommon markings even for magic rings.

"What do the markings say?"

"In Black Speech it says 'One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them, One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.'"

"Thank you," he told the elf and turned to around to think, however the statue caught his attention. The stone had been carved into the image of a woman holding a flat oval disc. On this disc was a glossy cloth with a broken sword resting on top of it. "Why do you keep a broken sword?"

"These are the Shards of Narsil, the sword that cut the Ring from the Dark Lord's hand. One day we will reforge the sword. Isildur's heir will wield it and Sauron will fear them," Elrond said with a fierceness Thorin had not heard the elf use before.

"Why have you not reforged it already? Could he not wield it now?"

"For the time being, secrecy keeps him safer than this weapon would. Sauron may fear his line, but that has not stopped him from trying to end it. The heir is a good man. I hope one day you both sit on your thrones and rule your people in peace and wisdom."

"Do you?" Thorin said a little gruffly. "I thought you were against our quest."

"I have reservations. I fear the wrath the dragon may inflict on the world. I fear the damage you could do under the influence of gold sickness. That does not mean I lack all hope for a better outcome. Lady Galadriel says she Sees a chance for you to succeed, and so I hope for this, even if I remain vigilant should it turn out otherwise," Elrond said lowering his chin and raising his eyebrows. "You are cautious in dealing with elves. Considering the history between our peoples I can not fault you too harshly for that, and I hope you will afford me the same kindness. I wish you no ill will, Thorin Oakenshield."

Thorin nodded once in acknowledgment. "You and Lady Galadriel have the gift of Foresight yet you have Seen nothing about this?" he said gesturing back to the depiction of Sauron.

"Lady Galadriel's gift is greater than mine, but more often than not, we do not get to choose what we See. We can try to divine certain things, but that is not always as successful as we might hope. The shadows moving in our Sight make this even more difficult, and they are growing more numerous. It is very likely Sauron is somehow responsible. Foresight does not just show the future either. It is possible to See events of the past or present. When Galadriel looks at you she Sees possibilities for your future. When I look at you I See your past."

"Not a pleasant sight."

Elrond nodded his own acknowledgment. "You have had a challenging life, and so far, you have risen to that challenge, but it has not completely lacked joy. Obtaining your Mastery, your nephews and surviving family, seeing your people thrive despite harsh circumstances," a smile spread across his face. "Finding your One."

Thorin turned a glare at the Elf Lord for the last.

"Do not worry. I will say nothing about it to Bilba," Elrond assured, still smiling. "I do wish you luck in winning her affections. I have no doubt that she would make a fine queen, though if you hurt her I can not guarantee my continued good will."

"If I hurt her, I will not be worthy of good will," Thorin answered seriously.

"So, we understand each other, on this subject at least."

"Do you See Bilba's past when you look at her?"

Elrond looked off into the distance beyond what was actually in sight.

oOo

Bilba running over snow covered ground. Wolves howling. One readying to leap. A hobbit woman stepping between the wolf and her daughter. Blood spreading over the snow. More howling. Rangers of the North riding up firing arrows from their longbows.

oOo

Bilba growing up at the side of a bedridden hobbit man. Taking lessons from him. Reading to him. Writing letters for him. Sharing meals.

oOo

Bilba sitting on the edge of the bed, a hand holding one belonging to the same hobbit man laying there while the other strokes his hair. He struggles to speak, but no words come out.

'It is alright, Papa,' she says tears streaming down her cheeks. 'I will be alright. You can let go and go find Mama. I'm sure she is waiting for you.'

He musters a smile for his daughter and breathes his last.

Bilba leans over his body and sobs.

oOo

"Mostly I See a bright light like Lady Galadriel mentioned. I can, however, See the death of her parents and that these events have made her more kind and caring than she otherwise would have been. The difficulties in your own life have made you strong, but they have also made you hard and unyielding. Those that can not bend or compromise will eventually break. That does not exclude elves. Everyone has their breaking point. I hope you never reach yours. "

"I am surprised you are being so open with me," Thorin told the elf, still more than a bit suspicious.

"Lady Galadriel is quite possibly the most wise and powerful elf in all of Middle Earth and right now she trusts you more than she does a wizard she has known for nearly two thousand years. That should not be taken lightly. I do not know what potential she Sees in you, but it must be significant. Remember that."

"Is she that well respected among all the elves?"

"She is. Not even Thranduil will easily dismiss her council."

Inviting him to the meeting may have been more significant than Thorin had originally believed. Could the relationship between the elves and dwarves really be repaired? Or was this another trick of the elves? He did not believe the elves would make up the terrible information they had shared with him last night, though.

"In a conversation with Lady Galadriel, she said early in our exile she had offered aid to my people which my grandfather refused. She believes this had also happened to you," Thorin said wording it as diplomatically as he could.

"Yes, that is correct. Do you wish to see the missive?"

"I do."

"Very well. Come, I will take you to the library."

oOoOoOo

The library turned out to be one of the large fully enclosed buildings. Inside, Thorin found that there were three stories of shelves filled with books. The ground floor had tables, chairs, and couches. The other two stories had little more than walkways around the perimeter so that all the shelves could be reached. The center was left open from the ground floor up to the ceiling far above. A spiraling staircase led not only up to the walkways above, but down underground as well.

"Lindir, Master Oakenshield and I wish to see the last communication I received from his grandfather, Thror. It would be from around 2770 or shortly thereafter," Elrond informed a dark haired elf who bowed and went down the spiraling stairs to an underground level.

While they waited for the scholar to locate what they sought, they took seats at one of the tables and Thorin asked, "Have the females of my company been shown this place?"

"Not to my knowledge. Do they enjoy reading?"

"Miss Baggins has mentioned something to that effect and Ori is a scribe apprenticed to Balin. Actually, I believe all three would enjoy this."

"You may show them if you wish. You are all welcome in here as long as you do not damage any of the writings. If any of you wish to borrow anything during your stay, speak to Lindir. He will assist you."

Said elf returned with a small scroll case and handed it to his Lord. Elrond opened it and pulled out three documents.

"This is the letter I wrote to Thror, which was thrown back into the faces of my emissaries," he said handing one document to Thorin. "When they asked for a written refusal of aid, this is what they were given," Elrond continued handing a second document to him.

"And the third?"

"It is a report about events surrounding the first two," Elrond said, handing that to him as well.

The Dwarf King first picked up Elrond's letter. The mark that said his grandfather had read it was there at the bottom, just as he had been taught to automatically do with his own mark after reading a document. The letter contained the expected offer of aid in the form of a specified amount of foodstuff. It also contained an offer of healing to the sick and wounded as well as a safe haven for expectant mothers to give birth and recover. It was polite and generous. Part of him had hoped it was written in offensive language that might, might, excuse a refusal.

Thorin put it down and picked up the letter from Thror. It was very short.

Thror, son of Dain I, needs nothing from leaf-eating tree-shaggers.

Thorin recognized this handwriting. It belonged to Nar, his grandfather's companion. Often the only one Thror would allow in his presence. And there, at the bottom, was his grandfather's signature and seal. Everything pointed to this being an authentic communique from his grandfather.

'How could he do this?! How much of his people's suffering was because of Thror's madness?' Thorin wondered appalled.

"Do you remember who acted as messenger?" inquired the dwarf.

"My sons, Elladan and Elrohir, delivered these," Elrond informed him.

The Lord's own sons. It seemed Elrond had extended every courtesy and respect to the King of Durin's Folk. And still the aid had been rudely refused.

The Elf Lord sighed. "Perhaps I should have been persistent, but Lady Galadriel lost two of her people to unknown sources, so I decided against risking any more of my own."

"You made the offer. That is more than I was aware you had done."

Thorin picked up the third document and read through it. It contained little more than what Elrond had told him.

"Would it be possible to speak with your sons regarding this matter?"

"They are not here at the moment. They often travel with the Rangers of the North and could arrive back at anytime. I will let you know if they return while you are here," Elrond informed him.

"I would appreciate that. May I show these to Balin?"

"Of course. Just see to it they are returned before you leave Rivendell."

The dwarf put the documents back into their case. He bowed his head briefly in thanks and left.

oOoOoOo

When Thorin returned to the suite he found his company awake and preparing for breakfast. 'Now is the time,' he told himself even though he still dreaded talking about it.

Calling them all together he began.

"Last night, thanks to Tharkun - thanks to Gandalf," he added for the hobbit's benefit, "I discovered the fate of my father. The wizard found him seventy six years ago. Mad and dying, all my father was capable of doing was entrusting the key and map to the wizard and bid him to deliver it to me, though he could not remember my name or even his own. Gandalf did not know I was the intended recipient until we met several months ago, a meeting that began the groundwork for the quest we are now on."

"He is dead then," Balin mourned. "We are sorry, laddie."

The other dwarves shared their condolences.

Nodding his acceptance, Thorin dismissed them to finish preparing for breakfast. The hobbit however, approached him.

"I am so sorry about your father," Bilba said. "If you ever want to talk about it, I would be willing to listen."

Recalling the conversation on their second night in Rivendell, Thorin told her, "I can not say whether it is better or not to know. It is a relief to finally know what happened to him, but..."

"You feel guilty about feeling relief?" she guessed.

"Yes."

"Before my father passed away it had been years since he was able to get out of bed on his own. The last several months of his life he barely had the energy to move his arms and could not remain awake for an hour at a time. A fit he had a few weeks before he died robbed him of his speech and most of what mobility he had left. I could see in his eyes his despair and how much he wanted to pass from this life. When he finally did, I felt some relief, not that I had lost my father, but that he no longer suffered. I still feel bad for it," she confessed looking down at her feet. "Even so, I think both of our guilt is misplaced. Perhaps it is part of the grieving process." Laying a hand on one of his arms she told him, "You are not relieved that he is dead, just that you finally have answers. Mourn him and get your closure. That is no disrespect to his memory."

"Thank you for your understanding."

Bilba gave him a gentle smile. "You are welcome."

oOoOoOo

After breakfast Thorin pulled Balin aside.

"Walk with me," the King-in-Exile requested. He did not want to have this discussion where they might be overheard. Many in his company were quite nosy and liked to involve themselves in other people's conversations.

"Did you want to talk about your father?" Balin asked.

"He is a part of what I wish to share, yes."

When they were someplace he thought they would have uninterrupted privacy Thorin swore Balin to secrecy and told his friend and advisor everything. Meeting Lady Galadriel and the conversations they had held, the meeting she had invited him to, the dragon, the White Wizard, the One Ring, Sauron and his role in Thrain's death, every warning, every reaction. Everything. Even what had been said about Bilba Baggins. Then he showed Balin the letters in the scroll case and shared what he had been told about them.

"What do you think?" the King-in-Exile asked his counselor.

Balin stared back at him with a horrified expression. "I donna want to believe it's true. This certainly looks like Nar's handwriting and your grandfather's seal. I suppose it is possible the letter is a forgery, but if it is, I have never seen one done with such skill. And all this information together is too horrible to be dismissed as some trick."

"I see no reason for the elves and Tharkun to make up such terrible information, so despite my distrust of elves, I am inclined to believe them as well."

"What now?" the white haired dwarf asked.

"There will be another meeting after Elrond reads the map to plan things further."

"So, for now we wait."

"I know I ain't as learned as ye are," a voice came from a corner that was darkened by the presence of a tree, "but da chatter I've been listnin' in on makes me think dey's tellin' da trueff."

"Nori," Thorin growled. "How long have you been there?"

"Since ye started talking. Never even noticed me. Ye wouldna have notice me eiffer if I hadna said anyffing, but I ffought ye oughtta know wha' I heard from da leaf-eaters."

"What have you heard?" Thorin asked.

"One o' da elves was worried dat if ye cracked, ye might side wiff da Dark Lord 'n tell 'im everyffin'," Nori scoffed. "Dat tall blonde she-elf said even if ye was barmy 'nough ta walk around with a boot as a crown, she was confiden' ye wouldna do dat."

"Have you been spying on the elves since we arrived?" Balin asked.

"Yep. I take me sister's safety seriously."

"Have you seen any sign of trickery on their part?" inquired Thorin.

"Nope. Just dat dey find us annoyin'," the thief grinned.

Thorin crossed his left arm across his chest and rested his other elbow on the wrist and brought his right hand up to his mouth to think. Lady Galadriel spoke of rebuilding trust, but he was not one for blind faith. Having Nori spy might actually help build the trust she wanted, depending on what he found of course.

"Keep it up. Report what you learn back to me," the King-in-Exile ordered.

"Ye wanna know which garden some o' da leaf-eaters use fer shaggin'?"

Balin looked taken aback and slightly disgusted.

Thorin closed his eyes and breathed. "Only so I know which one to stay away from." He reopened his eyes, but immediately narrowed them at the thief. "And which one to keep my nephews away from."

"I seen worse dan two elfs goin' at it. It's da highest garden on de west side," Nori shrugged and pointed in the appropriate direction. "Na' very big, just grass n' one tree in da middle. Der's a rosebush hedge so ye canna see inside from da walkway. Na' seen any ovffer like it here."

"Thank you. Oh, and Nori, what you heard us speak of is to be kept confidential. You tell no one," Thorin giving the thief an intense look, every inch a king that had better be obeyed or there would be Consequences.

"Ya, ya. I know how ta keep me yap shut!"

"Is there anyone in Ered Luin you wish to write a letter to?"

"Na. I donna care for anyone 'sept Ori n' Dori. Donna tell Dori dat. Donna want it goin' ta his head. Mum's dead n' who knows who me da is. Hope tain't one o' ye. Dat'd just be weird."

"Rest assured, I have never lain with your mother," Balin responded.

There were several different types of dwarf women a male could share that sort of relief with. Females that had devoted themselves to their craft or some females that had lost their One's to death but still wanted to get laid now and again, or females so poor they sold their body to support themselves, like Nori's mother had.

Thorin preferred the first, had occasionally satisfied himself with the second, but had never used the third. He sought to better his people's station in life but he would not do it by taking advantage of financially desperate women.

He also made sure there were never any offspring from his dalliances. Children were always treasured. Dori, Nori, and Ori were not thought less of because of the circumstances of their birth, but an illegitimate child to the royal line would just complicate things.

"Nor I," Thorin stated. "Off to your skulking then."

Nori gave him a salute and he slunk off.

"You might have just found yourself a new Spymaster," Balin said when the thief was gone. "Who knew Spider would be so difficult to replace?"

"Perhaps," Thorin said giving his friend a half smile. "Let us see what he learns first."

oOoOoOo