Chapter 38

Bilbo drifted slowly up through layers of consciousness. His soul fought his mind. Truly, the hobbit did not wish to awake to the nightmare he knew would greet his eyes. The odors, the sensations of touch were unwelcome enough. However, his curious nature finally won out. Bilbo had courage, he had honor. If he was not yet dead by the hands of the ferocious beast, he would discover why.

The stench told him he would find decay and death. His eyes confirmed the nostrils. Bilbo lay on an ancient stone floor. It was cracked in a million places. Weeds with stickers, pointy stems clung to a tenuous life. He blinked several times bring his eyes into focus. The dried webbed husks of a multitude of victims lay scattered haphazardly about.

Ebony claws pushed him. The creature knew he was awake. Bilbo closed his eyes for a brief second. 'Oh please, let my ending be swift.' He prayed so rarely. Hobbit faith was a quiet thing, unlike the dwarrows who constantly praised Mahal for one thing or another. Swift thoughts of Fili and Kili flashed, followed by an older, friendly Thorin. An image of Bag End seared in his brain. The last quiet afternoon spent reading and smoking.

Bilbo yielded to the incessant and increasing violent shoves. "I'm awake. No need to get rough!" His small body was covered in bruises and small cuts. The raugon had traversed the forest with no care to hobbit on his shoulders.

Blessedly, the raugon moved off. Bilbo stood up carefully. He was in a cave. Luminescent mushrooms lined the walls. He could hear the steady drip of water nearby. Webs were everywhere as where randomly tossed bones. With a start, Bilbo realized this was a feasting area for these dark creatures. Bilbo shuddered. He would end his days a meal. Ironic for a hobbit actually.

As he eyes adjusted to the gloom, a silky voice interrupted his dark musings.

"A hobbit has come to i Gaer Gath. Your presence here is unexpected."

Bilbo looked up. A tall almost albino she elf descended old stone steps. Like the elves of Thranduill's court, her long straight hair was pale. It seemed to glow in the light. Her features were lovely, but it was a cold beauty, perfection but no warmth. Blood red rubies adorned her neck. Her gown was black as a moonless night, but it held small crystals which sparkled like stars. She wore a diadem in her fine white hair. Its style matched the necklace.

Her dark eyes studied Bilbo quietly. Bilbo felt himself squirming under her emotionless gaze. He was about to speak when once more her voice rang out.

"Your name hobbit."

Bilbo answered trying to muster some dignity. "Bilbo Baggins of Bag End."

She walked closer, her features only slightly curious. "You have touched old magic. It was some time ago, but your being still resonates with it."

Bilbo's green eyes grew huge. He could not hide his expression of surprise so tired and hurt was he. However, he said nothing to confirm or deny it.

"Delu tad-dal has brought you to me. He was right to do so. Consider yourself fortunate Bilbo Baggins for you have survived an encounter with my pet." Her attention turned to the raugon. "Bring him."

Bilbo shifted his attention to the beast. He still had yet to truly discern his appearance. He still had no opportunity. Bilbo shrieked as the beast roughly tossed the small hobbit over his shoulder once more. Black, stiff hair covered its entire body. It wore no clothing nor adornment of any kind.

Bilbo closed his eyes once more. Gore still clung to its fur in places. Bilbo felt bile rise in his throat remembering the horrible attacks of his elven friends. He felt tears threaten, but did not allow them to fall. His heart pounded and his head spun. Surely, she referred to his magic ring. HIS RING. The one Fili had buried instantly upon taking it from his possession. Bilbo knew the ring had a dark side. In the days he'd worn it in Thranduill's palace, it whispered to him. Dark, vile things, but so beautiful and tempting too. It tried to seduce him constantly, promising all he ever wanted as long as it was his. So many times he was tempted to toss the ring off. However, he could only possess the willpower to remove it.

Fili, the brave lad, instantly recognized the evil it contained. He had flung the cursed thing far away, covering it in blood and mud. Bilbo was relieved of his burden against his will. Most of the time, the hobbit sung silent praises to the dwarf. Yet, at night, when he was afraid, Bilbo still resented Fili for his actions. He had stolen his magnificent ring, his precious.

She wanted it.

Whatever happened, Bilbo Baggins knew he could never allow such a thing come to pass.

"Whatever are you two doing here?" Radaghast muttered. His rabbits shifted nervously as they rested and scratched.

Fili couldn't stop his body from falling back to the wet forest floor in a slumped sitting position. 'A friend, here?' The relief was like a blow to his overwrought senses.

Legolas recovered first. " Greetings Aiwendel. We are searching for a hobbit, Bilbo Baggins. He was taken by the raugon."

Radaghast's bushy eyebrows shot up. "Poor hobbit. Poor, sad hobbit." He ran up to Fili and kneeled. Fili would have jerked back from the sudden invasion of personal space had he the energy. The brown wizard reached out a dirty hand to the dwarf and placed it on his forehead. "Tsk, tsk. You've been injured and drowned. Need healing, need rest."

"We must find Bilbo."

"No. Food and sleep. Yes." Radaghast straightened and whistled strangely. "No more can be done this night."

Legolas nodded. Fili could barely walk. Even his elven endurance was at its limit.

The bushes rustled. Legolas started to draw an arrow, when Radaghast's staff lowered the weapon down. Two magnificent elk stags bounded out of the dark. They stopped near the brown wizard.

He hurried over and stroked the largest's long elegant neck. He muttered words neither friend understood. The elk dipped its head slightly.

"Wonderful. Come on then." He turned to the two exhausted warriors. "Fleetfoot and Greathorn don't have all night. Things to do."

Legolas gave Radaghast a surprised glance. "Aiwendil, do you mean for us to ride them?"

Radaghast rolled his eyes and started to pull Fili to his feet. "Of course! Come. The ungol are hungry this night."

Legolas raised an eyebrow. He wondered what his father would think.

Fili, however began to laugh. "Oh Mahal!" He stood unsteadily as the mage pulled him upright. Legolas walked over and partially shouldered Fili's weight.

"Swear to me, you will never mention this to Kili." Fili begged his friend.

Legolas nodded, "Only if you promise never to tell my father."

"Done."

Radaghast tutted. "You two are very silly. Now mount and hang on." He helped Legolas lift Fili to the Fleetfoot. The elk stood patiently. Radaghast muttered in his strange language some more. Legolas then leapt onto Greathorn.

"Treat them well for they are princes." Radaghast declared before gathering the reigns of his sled. Legolas had no idea if Radaghast was referring to himself and Fili or the elk. The rabbits arose. With a sharp word the sled shot forward. Fili yelped trying to find something to hang onto. He settled for laying flat against the great stag.

Kili finally made it to his room. He shoved off the cloak and his jewelry. Quickly, his leggings joined the heap on the floor. The young dwarf undid the lid of the stone jar. The salve inside smelled wonderful, like mint and lemons. He dipped a generous helping on his wounded leg. As he rubbed it in, Kili felt a warmth spread through the limb. It was comforting. He used the excess to rub over the scars of his other leg as well.

His dark eyes closed for a moment. The sensation was tingling. He wandered to his bed. The need to lay down was suddenly urgent. Kili yawned. He battled the need to begin his preparations with the desire to sleep, to rest his eyes for a moment. He tried to catalog all the tasks he'd need to do before slipping out, the letter he would write. Instead, the hazy relaxed feeling of falling off to slumber claimed him.

Several minutes later, a knock sounded at his large door. After several moments of waiting, the door opened slowly and quietly.

Bifur walked in. Seeing his prince in asleep, he smiled. Bifur walked up and covered the youngest Durin in blankets. He wandered to the door and locked it. Then he walked over to Kili's stuffed recliner. The thing was old, a remnant of old Erebor the dragon hadn't trashed. Bifur settled in for the night.

Bifur remembered. He was always different as a child. Saw the world slightly off, experienced things that others didn't. He learned to keep it to himself. As he entered his adult years it was such a minor thing. Only his younger cousins knew and they did not speak his secret.

However, that all changed the day he had met Beryl in the marketplace. Never before had he beheld such a beautiful dwarrowdam. Bifur had been stunned no one else seemed to notice her brightness, her unique sparkle of green and turquoise. When she accidently touched his hand, he saw sparks. In that instant he knew, she was the one for him.

Their courtship was rather short. She was from a humble family as was he. All could see they belonged to one another after awhile, although not with the same vivid colors of Bifur.

Three years into their marriage, he had seen the subtle change in her colors. Another shade was suddenly presented deep within her own. She cradled it within her own swirls. A boy was born months later. Bifur thought life could be not be better. They may not have material things, but the love, ah, it was deep and richer than any gold.

A year later, it happened again. This time rosebud pink. A daughter. Bifur had been humbled. He considered himself the most blessed of all the dwarrow.

Then the ebon darkness of death crept into their tiny village. Bifur had ignored it at first. He thought it only a passing shadow. Never before had the dwarf been so wrong.

It was disease. Cruel and impartial, it struck old and young alike with a ferocious hunger. Kirin was the first to succumb. Bifur had blinked and it had happened so fast. Then the inky black was everywhere. It could not be out run, be fought with weapon. The grey black swallowed the tiny child. In two days his son was dead.

The shadow passed to the babe. Her bright pink become grey. As it happened so did his Beryl's incredible swirls.

He had cursed Mahal the night Beryl passed. She had lost the will to live when their jewel, their tiny delicate newborn baby girl succumbed in her sleep. She had wept so. No matter how Bifur tried to calm her, Beryl's grief was too much. Hours after her child passed, Beryl joined her and their son, Kirin in death.

Bifur had wanted to die. Prayed to die. The anger, the sorrow twisted his gut. Bifur screamed in terrible agony, of a heart broken for the rest of his mortal life. His life was all ruby red of blood and the dark black of death. No other color lived, no longer did his heart.

Bofur and Bombur had rushed to his small home, fearing the worst. Bifur had stormed past them, knocking the both of them to the stone floor. In Bifur's hands was his axe and spear. The illness had not touched him. But Mahal help his shredded soul, he would find orcs or other beings to claim him. The miner stumbled into the dark cold night with vengeance against the world in his heart.

It was hours later when he felt some semblance of reality return to his mind. 'Oh how his head hurt!' It almost matched the hole in his soul. He felt thick black red blood drip down his skull and pool beside his body. Despite the pain he felt relief. His end was near. He would join Beryl and the babes. Death was coming and he was so very glad. He could see grays now, some white.

Instead of Death's cold touch, Bifur felt warmth. A gentle caress and the murmurs of comforting words. He's eyes saw double, but he beheld the form of angel surrounded by the dead orcs in the cave. She knelt beside him, stroking his arms and forehead. Her light shifted the colors back to shades of grey. The black seemed to shrink in her being.

"I'm so sorry my child. Your wish for the hallowed halls of ancestors cannot be granted yet. Your role in this world as yet to be played out. Fate has treated you poorly." Her kind violet eyes shown with unshed tears.

"Know this. Your beloved wife and children are safe and no longer in pain. You will join them and be united for eternity. One day I must call upon you for a sacred task. For this I promise your kin will be rewarded in a way you were not. Long life with love and family. Your name remembered with honor forever. Will you do this for me my child?" The Lady Dwarf asked even as his head began to clear from the pain.

Bifur was torn. He was so lonely, so scared of going on without Beryl.

The Lady Ana nodded her head. "It is a terrible thing I ask to remain apart from your heart. Yet, I know your spirit is strong and loyal. You will see things that other dwarrows will not."

He thought of his cousins. He loved Bofur and Bombur like his own brothers. If he could spare them this heartache shouldn't he? Bombur's wife was Beryl's own sister. Beryl would live on their children.

The Lady did not rush his answer. She sat beside him, her fine dress soiled by the dirt and blood. She continued to stroke his head. Each touch banished more and more of the pain, the confusion. 'Could he deny such a spirit?'

Bifur's voice was hoarse. "Yes, I will do this, I will not have them suffer as I have."

Her smile was a benediction. "Then Bifur, son of Hizur, live. Know one day I will call upon you. May Mahal Bless your broken heart." Bifur felt a warmth spread throughout his being. In his mind he saw his beloved and their two children. She sat in the Great Hall. Her face smiling at their two babes. Their boy playing with a toy his father made, the baby cooing at her mother. They were Blessed in their afterlife.

"We will be waiting for ye. Until then ye have all our love." Beryl whispered and some part of Bifur's broken soul healed.

Bifur had awoken weeks later in Bombur's home. The axe of the last orc could not be removed without killing him. Bifur found he could live with the weapon. It was a reminder of his terrible anger. How close he could come to becoming a crazed animal with no honor, no heart. The axe head remained his unspoken promise to the Lady. Over the years he saw Bombur and his family grow until he was blessed with 10 dwarrows of his own, six of them girls. Bofur was a little less fortunate, but even his fate had changed for the better. With his new wealth and position, Bofur would soon find a mate. He was no longer a lowly miner, but a noble. With Bofur's gentle heart and kindness it was only a matter of time before a dwarrowdam fell hard for his cousin. In Bifur's eyes, the Lady was true to her promise.

Bifur blew out a candle. The room danced with the glow of the lone candle. The Lady had returned this night to Erebor. She had appeared to Kili, the young prince. Bifur had waited so very long for this. He wasn't surprised she had chosen the dark haired youth to receive her blessings. Long ago Bifur knew the boy was unique as his elder brother. Their colors were so vivid and bright, the pattern so complicated. He could only see it whole when the two were together. The first color he had seen in many decades. The others did not see it. He did and when the call came to follow Thorin Oakenshield on his wild quest, it was Bifur who conjoled the cousins into the journey. At first he believed this was the task he'd been called on to fulfill. After all, what greater glory could there be returning the Longbeards to Erebor? However, the toymaker had been wrong. He did not if it was because Thorin had managed to sully the sacred task with his greed. All Bifur understood was his promise remained open.

Then Kili mentioned the Lady Ana. The boy had no understanding of whom he'd been in the company of. He did not fault Kili. Most dwarrow belief was drawn from the same old sources. Only a few remained that remembered and honored Durin the First's wife. It was said she was the mother of all dwarrows for her gentle kindness. Her spirit remained where ever dwarrows called a mountain home.

Bifur had left in search of her. She had been waiting for him in a lonely alcove. Bifur had fallen on his knees in reverence. She was as lovely as he had remembered.

"Bifur, my child, you have done so many wonderous things. I thank you for your service."

"I am honored my lady."

Her hands placed softly on his now grayed head. The ache of the axe faded, the constant buzz in his ears quieted. She kissed his forehead. His unique way of seeing the world, the colors that only he could see came back into focus. Clarity was as crystal as the lake unstirred by wind.

"Our Prince Kili will ride out tomorrow to seek his beloved brother, Prince Fili. He cannot travel alone or he will fall to shadow. Go with him Bifur. Guard him and Fili. Fulfill your promise and help them see." Lady Ana whispered.

Bifur looked up at the great dwarrowdam. She smiled. Her hands caressed his face. He closed his weary eyes. Beautiful images of Beryl and the children flashed through his brain. The vision brought him contentment. He knew they waited, they still loved.

Thru his tears he glanced up, but he knew she would be gone. Bifur clung to the visions of glorious vibrant colors. He wasn't alone. Not in his heart.

I so wanted to explain Bifur's background. How I pictured the axe becoming embedded in his head. His motivation for the quest, his quiet unique way of experiencing the world through different eyes. It isn't only nobles and elves who have been gifted by the Valar. Bilbo is example of this. And in my head, so is Bifur. Dwarrows see the world in special ways. That's why their craft is so unique from the other races. They see shapes in rocks and stones and bring them to beautiful realization. Bifur sees the colors and shapes not in stone, but in living beings. It is a subtle shift and had he been noble born, he'd would have made a wonderful healer.

Lady Ana is my little attempt to bring in some Dwarrowdam mystique. I thought the dwarrows deserved some magical love like the elves! I cannot hope to resemble Tolkien's imagination, but I wanted to add a little to the lore. I hope you have enjoyed my humble explanation. More things shall continue to come to light.