A/N: Greetings! :D Thank you for favouriting/following this story! To FanfirHydra, KShara Shan and Guest, thank you for reviewing! :D
Reminders: No betas, so tell me if there's a mistake anywhere. OOC characters, but tell me if anything is too unbearable or unbelievable.
DISCLAIMER: Nothing in The Hobbit Universe belong to me.
Enjoy!
Chapter 9
"Pack up soon. We're leaving tonight," Thorin informed the Company during breakfast.
"Why?"
Thorin glared at Bilbo. "We have our answer, and should not dally anymore. Have you changed your mind, hobbit?"
Bilbo raised an eyebrow. "What put you in such a foul mood again?" Thorin glowered silently but did not reply.
"Uncle's just not a morning person," Kili whispered to Bilbo. With his mouth stuffed with bread, Fili nodded sagely.
Bilbo shrugged, thoughts preoccupied. His sister had left early, and had not reappeared since then; he wanted to speak to her before leaving, at least.
"Gandalf won't be joining us," Balin said.
Now that was puzzling. "Why not?"
"He said he'll be held up by some White Council, but he'll meet us at the Mountain Passage."
Ah, the White Council, which composed of Saruman, Elrond, Galadriel, and Gandalf. Maybe it was a good thing they would be leaving tonight, since Bilbo had no desire to meet Saruman, or answer his barrage of questions. He never liked that wizard, who always seemed too fascinated in his sister and him, but recently being around him gave Bilbo a strange, crawling feeling of wrongwrongwrong; his age-old instincts screaming at him to get away. Bilbo learnt always to listen to his instincts, and this time was no exception.
They spent the day restocking their food as surreptitiously as possible: Thorin did not want to alert Lord Elrond that they were leaving, for fear of being stopped. Personally, Bilbo thought that was dumb since Lord Elrond knew the importance of this journey, despite being disapproving towards it. And the dwarves, with the exception of Nori, totally sucked at subterfuge. Reason they gave for wanting more bread: "I, uhhh, want to feed the ducks in the garden". Bilbo almost banged his head against the nearest wall when he heard that; ducks? What ducks? Last time he checked (which was yesterday), there were no ducks in the garden. It was fortunate that the elves decided to peg it as dwarves being dwarves(basically, dwarves being weird) and gave it to them without much thought. Or maybe they were just secretly helping them; he was not sure.
They stuffed their packs with as much non-perishable food items as possible, polished their blades, mending their clothes and did all necessity things. None saw Gandalf throughout the whole day, and from what Balin heard, he would not be able to see them off. Saruman would probably arrive at night, and the dwarves were planning to take advantage of his arrival as a distraction to leave.
Night fell soon enough. The elves were unaware of their oncoming departure(or maybe they chose to feign ignorance, Bilbo still wasn't so sure; they had amazing poker faces). Ryadher finally appeared after dinner, face red with anger as she stomped into her room.
"Elrond finally deem it fit to tell me what's going on," she snapped.
"Oh."
She paced around the room(or tried to pace since her room barely had enough space), her eyes glittering with anger as she glared at the floor as if it had personally insulted her. "Why didn't he-"
"Ryadher, I'm leaving tonight," Bilbo informed her suddenly. That stopped her rant. Her head jerked up and looked at him in dismay.
"Why tonight?"
"Thorin's orders. Saruman is also coming tonight," Bilbo explained simply.
His sister took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Alright," she said, "I'm leaving tomorrow anyway; Scouting at Dol Guldur."
"That's dangerous!"
"And going after Smaug isn't?" She shot back. Bilbo opened his mouth, and promptly shut it again.
"I'm one of the best scouters here, remember? Thanks to the enhanced smell and hearing." Her left hand trembled slightly. "I can't not help, Bilbo."
He grimaced. "Fine. But be carefully, Ryad."
"I will." Her expression was serious, with none of her usual joking laughter present. She sighed. "I won't be able to send you off; briefing is tonight."
Bilbo smiled reassuringly. "It's fine; I didn't expect you to anyway."
His sister crossed the room and knelt down, pulling Bilbo into a hug.
"Take care, hanar. Whack the wyrm bastard extra hard, alright?"
Bilbo patted her back. "I will."
"May the winds guide you home," she whispered in an ancient language; a language Bilbo had not heard for decades; a language he only spoke to his sister with: their native language.
Bilbo gently pressed his forehead onto his sister's. "May your fire burn bright," he finished the second part of the traditional blessing for farewells, the long-unused language slightly foreign and awkward to him. He was dreadfully rusty.
They sat next to each other in silence for a few minutes, savouring the last few moments of peace.
Bofur knocked on the door and poked his head into the room. "Bilbo? It's time to go."
He swung on his green cloak, hefted up his bag and nodded to his sister.
"Farewell, nîth."
Her eyes flashed with sadness. "Stay safe. Namáriëor Navaer, hanar."
Bilbo took a last look around the room, straightened, and left.
The White Council gathered in the pavilion. Streaks of sunlight seemed into the sky, stretching out towards them. Dawn was breaking.
Saruman frowned at Gandalf. "Tell me, Gandalf, did you think these plans and schemes of yours would go unnoticed?"
"Unnoticed? No, I'm simply doing what I feel to be right," Gandalf said.
Galadriel watched the darkness of the sky fade away, hands clasped in front of her."The dragon has long been on your mind."
Gandalf inclined his head."This is true, my lady. Smaug had not been a worry before. But if he should side with the enemy - and he will - a dragon could be used to terrible effect."
Saruman rolled his eyes. "What enemy? Gandalf, the enemy is defeated. Sauron is vanquished. He can never regain his full strength," he said. "For four hundred years, we have lived in peace. A hard-won, watchful peace."
"Are we? Are we at peace? Trolls have come down from the mountains. They are raiding villages, destroying farms. Orcs have attacked us on the road," Gandalf shot back.
"Hardly a prelude to war."
"Saruman, something is stirring. Something evil. We cannot simply ignore the signs," Elrond said.
Saruman eyed Elrond suspiciously. "You? You side Gandalf? Your precious Dragonkin have been affected, I presume."
Elrond straightened. "They are under the Elves' care. It is our duty to protect them, yet strange things have also been happening to them."
Saruman waved his hand dismissively. "They are but a burden, a forgotten race. Or have you forgotten their arrogance?"
"Yet that does not mean we should abandon them, Saruman," Elrond replied sharply, chidingly.
Saruman looked away. He focused on Gandalf instead. "Always you must meddle, looking for trouble where none exists."
Galadriel frowned down on Saruman. "Let him speak."
"There is something at work beyond the evil of Smaug. Something far more powerful. We can remain blind, but it will not be ignoring us, that I can promise you. A sickness lies over the Greenwood. The woodsmen who live there now call it 'Mirkwood'. and they say..." Gandalf paused expectantly, one eyebrow crooked upwards.
"Well, don't stop now. Tell us about the woodsmen say," Saruman said impatiently.
Hiding a smile, Gandalf continued. "They speak of a Necromancer living in Dol Guldur, a sorcerer who can summon the dead."
"That's absurd. No such power exists in the world. This... Necromancer is nothing more than a mortal man. A conjurer dabbling in black magic," Saruman scoffed.
Gandalf drove on. "And so I thought too. But, Radagast has seen-"
"Radagast? Do not speak to me about Radagast the Brown. He is a foolish fellow."
"Well, he's odd, I grant you. He lives a solitary life."
"It's not that. It's his excessive consumption of mushrooms. They've addled his brain and yellowed his teeth. I warned him, it is unbefitting of the Istari to be wander in the woods..."Saruman insisted, then paused and shook his head.
Gandalf picked up Radagast's package, which was on his lap, and tossed it onto the table. It landed with a thud.
Saruman paused his mini-rant. "What is that?"
"A relic of Mordor," Galadriel replied softly.
Elrond slowly unwrapped the package, taking care not to touch it. Gandalf had shown it to him to convince him a few days before, so he was not surprised by it.
There was a shocked silence from Galadriel and Saruman.
"A Morgul blade," Elrond intoned.
Galadriel moved forward to get a better look of it. "Made for the Witch-king of Angmar, and buried with him. When Angmar fell, men of the North took his body and all that he possessed and sealed it within the High-Fells of Rhudaur. Deep within the rock they buried them, in a tomb so dark it would never come to light."
"This is not possible. A powerful spells lies upon those tombs; they cannot be opened," Saruman said with a frown."What proof do we have this weapon came from Angmar's grave?"
Gandalf turned his palms upwards.
"I have none."
The White Wizard jumped onto that immediately."Because there is none. Let us examine what we know. A single Orc pack has dared to cross the Bruinen. A dagger from a bygone age has been found. And a human sorcerer, who calls himself the Necromancer, has taken up residence in a ruined fortress. It's not so very much, after all. The question of this dwarvish company, however, troubles me deeply. I'm not convinced, Gandalf; I do not feel I can condone such a quest. If they'd come to me, I might have spared them this disappointment. I do not pretend to understand your reasons for raising their hopes. I am afraid there is nothing else for it."
A slight noise broke Saruman's mini-rant; they turned around. Lindir stepped out from the shadows and bowed.
"My Lord Elrond; the dwarves, they've gone."
A ghost of a smile could be seen gracing Elrond and Gandalf's faces; Saruman's furious expression, on the other hand, was priceless.
Sunlight filtered through the pine trees, showering everything with a glow of light. The Company hiked along the path away from Rivendell.
Thorin surveyed the Company. "Be on your guard; we're about to step over the edge of the Wild. Balin, you know these paths; lead on."
Bilbo glanced behind his shoulders at the diminishing Rivendell. The last of the homely homes. He felt a twinge of sadness, as he always did when he left Rivendell.
"Master Baggins, I suggest that you keep up."
Looking at the path ahead of him, uneasiness settled in his gut. Despite the beautiful day, he felt something ominous stirring in the air. The winds were changing, and he did not like it.
The Company trudged on, way until evening. The dwarves were in a hearty mood after leaving Rivendell behind, celebrating and cheering since they no longer had to see any of those "tree-shaggers". (Bilbo pointedly cleared his throat and they hastily amended their sentences. "Elves, I mean. We don't have to see any more elves.")
The ominous feeling in Bilbo's gut ebbed away, until it was just a faint trickle of anxiousness. He could not help turning around every other hour to check over his shoulders though.
"What's wrong, Mister Baggins? Missing Miss Ryadher already?" Fili commented with a lopsided smile the sixth time after they saw him look over his shoulders.
"It is understandable if you did; I miss charming Miss Ryadher too," Kili chimed, wiping fake tears away from his eyes.
Bilbo flashed them a grin. "No, she was starting to get on my nerves with her giggling and sly smiles. What were you three planning, anyway?"
They coughed pointedly. "Nothing, really," they said a little too quickly. Suddenly, Kili pointed ahead.
"Fili, I think I saw a deer ahead. Maybe we should scout there," he said. Then, both of them hastily urged their ponies forward.
"They're definitely planning something," Bofur chuckled. Bilbo sniffed and gave him a you-don't-say expression.
"Hopefully nothing too traumatizing," he replied.
End of Chapter 9
Another short, filler-ish chappie, sorry! :( Busy busy. Reviews will be appreciated :)
Namáriëor Navaer - farewell
nîth - sister
hanar - brother
-littlesparrowkeet