WAIT!
HAVE YOU READ CHAPTER 19? IF NOT, GO BACK AND DO THAT FIRST! I'M UPDATING MULTIPLE CHAPTERS IN A SHORT PERIOD OF TIME!
I am hoping to begin developing a more solid relationship between Bilba and some of the dwarves in the next handful of chapters so that we might get into an actual pairing! At this time, the majority of people appear to be requesting a Nori/Bilba pair, which also happens to be the ship I am leaning toward as of now. For the moment, however, I will be leaving the pairing tagged as undecided, since nothing is truly set in stone!
Inspired by a prompt I stumbled upon by lateforerebor on tumblr.
Summary: Bilba "Bell" Baggins decides that she's waited quite long enough to take her mother's advice and old stories and go on an adventure of her own. What she didn't expect was to end up in Ered Luin and be adopted by dwarves! AU, Pre-Quest, Undecided Pairings.
-;-
Somewhere along the line, Bilba recalled fourteen being mentioned as a lucky number to dwarrow, but so far Bilba had yet to see things so positively while they were running through the trees for their lives. Between the trunks, they could almost see Radagast as he whooped and hollered with glee as he went toe to toe with the warg pack that locked onto his trail so that they might have a chance of escape.
Escape that suddenly did not look terribly promising as Gandalf led them out of the safety of the trees and onto the vast plains that stretched on for miles ahead.
They were going to die.
The thought was nearly hysterical as she ran as quickly as she was able, her wobbly legs protesting the continued abuse that she had put her body through. In the distance, the howls faded and echoed eerily; it made it harder to discern where Radagast and the warg pack were in proportion to the company.
It wasn't a good position to find themselves in when they didn't know if they were to round a rock outcropping to come face to face with a warg or an orc.
Several times, they were forced to stop and shelter behind stones as Radagast led the pack past them, veering one way to the next to avoid losing a limb to sharp teeth.
Bilba knew she was not as swift as the dwarves. Even if she were in the prime of her youth, she was not built to run for such extended periods of time. Hobbits were more the badger sort. Once they build a den, they would stay there and defend it within an inch of their lives. Not gallivanting about the entirety of the continent in their midlife.
She gasped as someone grabbed her by the back of her shirts and hauled her against the rock they'd been running to. Bofur pressed a finger to his lips before pointing up at the orc astride a warg on top of the boulder.
Thorin made a gesture to Kili. The young dwarf steadied himself, slowly drawing and notching an arrow before bolting out and loosing it. At such an awkward angle, he missed bringing down the pair without stirring up such a racket Bilba was certain they would be found at any moment.
The orc staggered upright, only to meet a gruesome end at the business end of Dwalin and Bifur's heavy ended weapons.
"Move! Run!" Gandalf ordered, turning on his heel. "This way, quickly!"
Bilba stumbled as they took off again; crying out as she twisted her ankle in an unseen hole in the ground and going down hard on her knees. She needed her body to move, but the precious seconds she remained there had earned her a harsh jolt of reality.
Nori grabbed her by the hand, sharp eyes watching something behind her as he urged her to get moving again, step for step to make sure she didn't fall behind. She was certain that if adrenaline wasn't flowing through her, she would have not gotten up and would have met a violent end.
As it was, that was still a very viable option in the near future.
The rocks around them turned to trees once they crested a hill, Gandalf leading them further and further away from any safety that might have been afforded them if they'd stuck in the woods or even the outcroppings. The trees were hardly of any use, obscuring their vision and doing absolutely nothing to provide cover for the dwarrow, the Hobbit, or the wizard leading them.
Someone let out a warning cry of alarm as they saw the wargs ahead of them, similar warnings shouted from all sides. A trap. It left the company pinned against a small grouping of stones as the pack moved in closer. From this distance, Bilba was able to see far too many teeth than she felt was necessary, a cold prickle of fear tightening around her throat. Nori pulled her close, saying something into her ear that she didn't hear, too focused on the teeth that were large enough to split her in half.
"This way, you fools!" Gandalf cried, gesturing with his staff closer to the rocks before vanishing from sight. Thorin, bless his stubborn heart, didn't challenge the wizard on it. Granted, it was likely due to the circumstances they found themselves in.
"Quickly, all of you!" Thorin bellowed.
Dwarves vanished behind rock as they leapt into the unknown, Nori and Bilba following behind as Thorin yelled for Kili. The young archer was still taking down the oncoming pack with his bow as he retreated. Nori shielded the Hobbit from most of the rocks as they toppled to the bottom of the short fall, panting at the exertion of sprinting across the terrain. Bilba was shaking like a leaf in a windstorm, every inch of her protesting movement as she struggled to push herself upright.
Horns blew above them, the rumbling of the earth proclaiming the arrival of horses. Elves, if Bilba had to guess. They had certainly come far enough east that they would be nearing Rivendell. The very place that their cantankerous leader had been hoping to avoid.
"I cannae see where the pathway leads!" Dwalin called back to them from further in the path that Gandalf had apparently led them to. "Do we follow it or no?"
"Follow it of course!" Bofur yelled back.
"I think that would be wise." Gandalf said, avoiding the glower that Thorin levelled in his direction as the company pulled themselves upright and ventured further into the path.
Bilba tried to stand but found that the ankle she'd twisted refused to hold her weight; she would have hit the ground again if Nori's quick reflexes hadn't caught her by the arm. It was hard to tell what he was thinking now- it was as if a mask had been placed over his features as he held her upright and took her bag from her to add to his own weight.
"You don't need to-" she started to protest.
"You'll hold us up if you try to walk with your foot the way it is, Bell." Nori shook his head, placing a solid around her waist as they started their own slow pace.
The look that Thorin threw back at them suggested that this was not going to be something that the prince would be letting go of. Bilba didn't care. She would gladly tell him where to stuff it if he tried to put up a fuss.
Conversation was sparse as they walked. They were all tired, and being on foot was harder than being on the backs of horses. Above them, rivers of light denoted where the sun was filtering through the cracks. How none of them had noticed it above ground was a mystery.
The further they walked, the more Bilba could feel a peculiar sensation across her skin. It was…buoyant, in a sense. Almost like a cooling breeze on a warm summer's eve. It was enough that it gave her pause, tilting her head as she tried to puzzle it out.
"You can feel it?" Gandalf inquired, brows lifting as he too paused with her.
"Yes. It feels like… well, like magic." She said, for lack of knowing what else she could say.
"That's exactly what it is. A very powerful magic." The wizard replied cryptically as a call came from up ahead. She eyed Gandalf as she and Nori moved to follow the rest of the company.
"The Valley of Imladris. In the common tongue it's known by another name." Gandalf announced to the company, all of them in some measure taken aback by the sight that lay before them.
Her mother had told her many tales of the elves to the East, speaking fondly of Lord Elrond and the other elves she had befriended there- had read about many of them in her journals. But it wasn't until she found herself in the same place her mother had been that she truly understood the thing her mother had struggled to put into words on paper. The waterfalls surrounding the softness of the walls, how nature seemed to be grown within it rather than against it, the sense of peace that drowned out the fear and pain she was feeling. A strange sense of tranquility fell over her as she took in the beauty of the city below.
"Rivendell." Bilba breathed.
-;-
The Last Homely House East of the sea was a rather fitting title for the place that they found themselves in. Bilba couldn't help but appreciate it as they made their way down a pathway toward the grand structure suspended within nature itself. Nori tolerated it; she suspected it was because it allowed them to move more slowly, keeping a fair distance between Thorin and Gandalf's bickering the entire way down.
They only paused in their heated words once their feet touched the ornate stone pathway leading to an open courtyard. The entire way, Bilba could only marvel at the stunning architecture she had only read about in her mother's books.
A figure descended the stone steps leading further into Rivendell, greeting Gandalf as a friend.
"-My Lord Elrond is not here." The elf said evenly, tone serene despite the expression that crossed his features as his gaze flicked to their company.
"Not here? Where is he?" Gandalf inquired.
As if summoned by the question, the sound of horns blew in the distance. Bilba automatically turned, greeted by the sight of a convoy of horses galloping down the same path they had crossed only moments before.
"Close ranks!" Thorin bellowed, Nori dragging Bilba into the center of their group when it was clear that the horses showed no signs of stopping nor slowing down. He tucked her in close to his side, her head spinning as she tried to keep track of everything going on. Nori was growling somewhere next to her ear as the horses paused.
"Gandalf!" one of the elves greeted. Bilba picked him out easily- he wore dark, silken looking robes, equally dark brown hair delicately braided and a circlet of gold upon his brow.
"Lord Elrond." The wizard said, a smile on his features as he stepped forth. "My friend. Where have you been?"
"We've been hunting a pack of orcs that came up from the South." The elf replied, Sindarin rolling off his tongue as he dismounted his large black horse. "We slew a number near the Hidden Pass."
His features remained stern for only a moment before he smiled, stepping forward to embrace the wizard. Bilba watched the exchange, noting the familiarity in which the two interacted.
"Strange for orcs, to come so close to our borders. Something, or someone, has drawn them near." Lord Elrond handed his sword to Lindir, turning easily on his heel to face Gandalf once again. Judging by the wry look of patience on his features, the elf had already guessed what events had brought orcs so close.
"Ah." Gandalf cleared his throat, almost sounding sheepish. "That may have been us."
It was only then that Lord Elrond's attention turned to their group. What a sight they must have made- covered in filth, grime and sweat, their weapons in hand as they clustered together protectively. Bilba could barely see over Nori's shoulder as Thorin stepped forward.
"Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain." The elf said, taking a step forward to nod regally at the dwarf.
"I do not believe we have met."
Bilba couldn't resist the urge to rub the bridge of her nose this time. If they thought that they would make it to Smaug when the cantankerous prince could barely be civil to an elf lord, they were mistaken.
"You have your grandfather's bearing." Lord Elrond said, nodding as if he had seen something he approved of. "I knew Thror, when he ruled under the mountain."
"Indeed? He made no mention of you." Thorin bristled.
For a moment, it looked as though Lord Elrond was considering something. As to what, Bilba could only hazard a guess, but she genuinely hoped that they would not be turned away because of the fool of a prince in charge of this blasted quest.
Instead, to put it simply- her Sindarin was still rusty in some places- the elven lord offered them food and shelter.
Bless Yavanna.
The group conversed in Khuzdul, Nori edging her out of the thicker cluster of sharp weapons and thick packs. She didn't mind it terribly- it meant that she was able to draw in her first fresh breath of air since they'd arrived. None of them smelt terribly fresh; her Hobbit sensibilities were horrified to know what she was personally coated in at the moment.
Bilba felt eyes on her, blinking as she turned to note Lord Elrond studying her with an inscrutable expression. Something about it made her feel as though he knew more about her than he should, considering that they had never met. Their gazes met for a moment before the lord turned to lead the company into Rivendell.
She had a sneaking suspicion that it would not be the only time that they had such an encounter, whatever it may be.
-;-
Before they went their separate ways, Bilba was tended to by one of the elven healers. Nori stubbornly stuck by her size, almost acting more like an overprotective parent as he watched sharply the entire process.
The healers were a pair of dark-haired women who clicked their tongues sympathetically before getting to work as easing her discomfort with healing spells and herbs. It wasn't a perfect fix, but it made her feel infinitely better as they offered to show her to a bath.
The answer to that was an immediate, enthusiastic yes.
"I'll inform Dori you're alright." Nori excused himself, eying up the elves as he went. Bilba couldn't say for certain, but he might have slipped something into his pocket on the way out.
He's still himself, if he has the energy to be taking things he shouldn't. Bilba thought fondly as the elves ushered her into another room where a marvellously large bath awaited her. The elves averted her eyes as she tugged herself out of her crusty, dirty clothing, collecting it with a promise of returning them to her by the next morning clean and repaired. In the meantime, they would bring something suitable to replace her attire.
And then Bilba was left on her own.
The water felt like a balm for her soul as she allowed herself to relax into it, simply savoring the peace that stole over her as her aches and pains flowed out of her. Whatever oils or salts had been poured into the bath smelled faintly of an indistinct floral; Bilba hummed in contentment as she began scrubbing herself thoroughly. Starting at one hand and up over her shoulders and chest, back down to the other hand. She found more than a few bruises and nicks from their harried escape across the plains; one particularly large bump against her cheek that was beginning to ache was from the trolls.
Her hair was the last- and longest- to tackle. She combed out the thick locks with her fingers, using the water as an aid to work up from the ends. Hopefully she would be able to wrangle it with her comb later.
Bilba couldn't help the small smile at the wooden beads she pulled from their place in her hair, deeply relieved that nothing had happened to cause them to be lost. Next to her daggers and the sheaths Dori had made for them, her beads were her most precious possession. She didn't recall whether or not she'd reclaimed the fourth bead from Nori- it wouldn't surprise her to find it in his possession in the least.
And there was the heart of her current predicament.
She would need to speak with one, if not all three of her dwarves. It had been long enough- too long, in her personal opinion- to keep skulking about as though she were ashamed of being adopted into their House. As if she cared a whit what Thorin thought of her; she knew her standing wasn't terribly high in his mind. The worst that could happen would-
Well, it could be any number of things, she supposed. But she would fight tooth and nail to prove that she wasn't about to give her found family up. Everyone that she knew were acting like completely different dwarrow so far in this journey, and it was beginning to deeply affect Bilba. It felt as though any of the progress, any of the relationships or kinship she had forged from the ground up with the dwarves had been for nothing.
She was Bilba Baggins of the Shire- she knew what she could and could not do. And Thorin Oakenshield would simply have to adjust his narrowminded view of the world if they wanted her to be their burglar on this mad quest.
Nodding to herself, Bilba felt better about quite a few things as she rinsed her hair, happy to see the copper curls return to their original coloring. At some point during the bath, a tunic had been left for her, along with a thin leather cord that she assumed would do as a belt. Hobbits were quite short compared to the rest of the races of Middle Earth, after all.
It might have been a shirt for an elf, but on Bilba it hung nearly to her ankles. It was luxuriously soft, sliding against her skin in ways she couldn't say fabric ever had before, cut in a shade of green that reminded her of spring. The sleeves she rolled up to her elbows, too long to leave as they were as she belted the cord around her waist to form a makeshift dress.
Comfortable, she threaded her beads back into her hair, mindful of the instinctive way she let them fall underneath her curls. Hidden from sight, still. She wouldn't pick a fight with Thorin during the first night of their stay.
The next day was still up in the air, however.
-;-
"Try it. Just a mouthful." Dori coaxed at dinner, trying to cajole the youngest son of Ri into eating something other than meat. A losing battle to anyone who was not a Hobbit who knew how to prepare meals in ways that included the greenery hidden amongst the other elements.
"I don't like green food." The younger dwarrow shook his head, placing the leaf of lettuce back down on the plate he'd been given. As if for good measure, he just out his chin and adopted a mulish expression, challenging his brother to make him eat something he had no interest in whatsoever.
Bilba sighed into her goblet of water.
It appeared that their hosts had decided to return some of the discourtesy their guests had shown by serving them a meal of greenery and greenery alone. She'd overheard one of the elves mentioning as much to their companion when she'd been escorted to the open courtyard, illuminated by the sun's rosy glow as it descended it's path in the sky.
Though really, not serving meat was the least inoffensive thing that the elves could have done. Dwarrow preferred meats and more hearty dishes over delicate greens and mixtures of the two that other races preferred. She supposed it made sense given the history of the majority races in the room.
Still, she wondered if she was going to be the most mature of their company for the entirety of their quest.
The thought was followed by Bofur doing as Bofur did best; taking center stage and rousing up the other dwarrow in a pub shanty that had the company rioting. Never mind that Bilba didn't hate the tune itself- quite the opposite in fact. Bofur had a lovely tenor that rang clearly in the air. No, the thing that most bothered her was her meal being disturbed. She'd rather been missing the greens that she was used to in her palette.
Across the table, she couldn't help but sigh as Nori pocketed yet another item while he took advantage of the disruptions of the others, shooting her a secretive wink when she caught his eye and raised a brow pointedly.
"Master Balin, I do believe I've finished my meal." Bilba said quietly to the older dwarrow. "Please excuse me."
"Of course, lass." He smiled warmly. "We'll hold off anyone who tries to disturb you."
"I don't think we'll need to go quite that far, but thank you." She laughed to herself, shaking her head as she stood and arranged the tunic around her hips. She had left the sword Gandalf had presented her behind with her pack, choosing instead to stick with the more familiar daggers she was already accustomed to having belted at her waist and to her calf. Let Thorin stew in his own thoughts. She'd had her moment to dwell on what she wanted to do.
"Thank you for the lovely meal, Lord Elrond." She greeted warmly as she passed the smaller table hosting the elf lord, the wizard, and the insufferable prince. "I fear I've seen too much excitement for one day. I hope you won't mind if I enjoy the gardens before retiring for the evening?"
"Not at all. Rivendell is open to all who would shelter here." The elf replied warmly, nodding in her direction. "Rest well, little Halfling."
The term, usually one to earn some measure of ire, felt more like one of endearment as she curtseyed again before taking her leave of the courtyard and the boisterousness of the dwarves.
Perhaps Gandalf had been onto something in his strange ways of coming and going within the company. Even she was thinking of how little time she could spend within their presence while they stayed in the Homely House.
-;-
Bilba had thought that with some fresh air and more gentle exercise, she would tire and be ready to sleep the night away. Instead, her restless feet took her throughout the gardens of the elf haven she found herself in. Fountains of soft burbling, lush green grasses that she could not resist sinking her feet into, and plants and fauna of all manners she had never seen in the Shire.
Pausing in the rooms that the elves had shown her to earlier, she collected her pipe and pipeweed, certain that a slow walk and the warmth of the smoke would ease some of her troubled thoughts now that the sun had gone down.
Her feet took her to a small, hidden garden off one of the pathways, leading into a small courtyard with a fountain and a large tree with no shortage of footholds. It was no roof in Ered Luin, but it was enough that she was able to clamber up with little trouble, the large branches supporting her weight easily as she ventured higher and higher. There was an itch under her skin, a desire to be somewhere few others would be able to find her. Somewhere she could think of nothing and sit under the stars, watching the moon rise high into the sky.
She lit her pipe with practiced ease, sitting on a bough near the height of the tree and feeling it sway beneath the light breeze that touched her cheeks. This place was more than enough to put the hobbit at ease, but she felt the last bit of tension draining out of her shoulders the longer she sat there. The moon crept higher in its arc, light bathing her freckled skin in pale light as the few clouds dispersed. Idly, Bilba wondered if she was missed in the company.
"Far over the misty mountains cold," she sang to herself, humming the tune for a moment as she tried to recall the lyrics. "to dungeons deep, and caverns old. We must away… break of day… to find our long-forgotten gold."
For good measure, she hummed the tune to herself a handful more times, no more of the words returning to her. Somewhere between the third or fourth time, she heard a faint scuffle of bark underfoot; likely Nori. Still, she didn't move, puffing idle smoke rings into the air and watching them with lidded eyes as they floated up toward the stars.
Nori made a soft sound in his throat as he settled on the branch alongside her- more comfortable than she imagined he would be, considering dwarrow were a folk of the earth and metal. Still, she didn't mind; it was pleasant to have company she knew from experience wouldn't bother with rambling conversation.
It almost felt like they were back in Ered Luin, how easily they fell back into their company.
"We need to talk about some things." She finally said softly, still looking up at the stars. She could pick a couple out that she recognized, a few more that she didn't.
He didn't say anything, but Bilba didn't expect him to. She could feel his sharp gaze on her.
"I'm not going to be hiding anything from Thorin from now on." She said, considering her words only for a moment. "I will not be attempting to keep my beads as hidden as I have been, nor will I be keeping my distance from any of you. You lot act as though you've been naughty fauntlings while your parents were away, and now that you're all here with Thorin it is as if you would rather pretend not to know me than admit anything."
It felt good to air her grievances after several weeks on the road. Granted, the pipeweed may have had something to do with it, but regardless, it was a relief to say what had been bothering her.
"Especially you, Nori."
Bilba felt him tense- sitting so closely, it was hard not to.
"What has been bothering you?" Bilba asked, finally looking over to him. She could see his jaw set underneath his beard, eyes fixated on a point ahead of him. "Even if I didn't notice everything else, you've been quiet."
For a moment, she thought he was going to leave. But then he exhaled quietly, his pipe in his palm as he looked down.
"You know I'm not the most upstandin' of characters, Bell."
"I don't understand how that has anything to do-" she started, blinking when he shook his head slowly.
"I may make light of it, but the truth of it is I'm no more than a common thief to quite a few of the dwarrow on this quest." He shrugged. "Thorin and Dwalin would sooner see me hanged than amongst their number."
"So you would stay silent rather than earn unwanted attention." The hobbit realized, a sinking in her chest as she realized how everything fit together. "But that still does not explain why you have been so distant from Dori."
"He and I don't get along, Bell. You know that."
"Don't try that with me. I've seen you two. You may not get along, but this is different. You have been avoiding them as much as I in all of this." She denied him, shaking her head firmly. "I don't expect an answer, but you are all dwarrow I care about. I don't want to see any of you hurt because of something that could have been prevented."
They fell into a companionable silence, both of them mulling over their own thoughts. Bilba sighed when she realized her pipe was about out of pipeweed, the rest of it stashed in her pack. She only had so much of it to last; the only way it would last were if the weather would turn sour again as they left Rivendell and moved further into the mountains to the East.
She put it out with ease before tucking it back into the pouch she'd tied to the leather cord of the tunic, turning her attention to her now half-damp hair. She'd pulled it out of her face, but Hobbit hair was renowned for being terribly thick and tangled; usually both at the same time.
Bilba almost wished she'd grabbed her comb if she had known she would be attempting to work out some of the knots already forming.
Nori snorted; she felt him readjust on the branch before two larger hands shooed hers out of the way, deftly sorting out the largest of the knots in a handful of seconds before moving on to the next. She shifted her weight so that she was straddling the branch, her back to Nori as he quietly working on combing out her hair with his fingers.
Unbidden, the first time they had combed one another's hair came to mind. It had been after the most war-like snowball battle she'd ever taken part in, all of them soaked to the bone as the snow melted into their clothing and hair alike. The warmth she had felt from being included in something that obviously meant so much to the dwarrow had stuck with her for quite some time afterward.
In a way, it now felt like an apology. An understanding, of sorts.
He chuckled when he found her small plait with the trio of beads on it, his thumb rubbing over the now smooth wood surface of each one.
"I held onto your other bead." He said quietly.
"I thought you might have." She smiled. "I still don't know what I'll carve into it."
"You'll sort it out." He said surely, letting go of the beads and continuing his task. Bilba hummed as he gently pulled her curls back from her face, detangling them with a swiftness she felt was entirely unfair. Then again, dwarrow had much more hair and beard to contend with- likely quite a bit more time to learn ways around all manner of hair issues.
She felt him plait one simple row down her back, loose enough to allow her hair to dry without tangling as much as it had been. By then, Bilba had already begun leaning into him, drowsiness settling into her shoulders. It felt nice to have some measure of connection with someone other than herself.
Still, they both made it back down to solid ground when they finally got to clambering down. Nori was as swift as she in her surety, both of them unable to help the smiles and laughter. Bilba was in full peals of it as she landed on the grass, feeling lighter than she had since the start of their quest.
It was good to see Nori smile so brightly himself. Bilba hoped that she would see it more now, following their secret words with one another.
-;-
The next morning found Bilba's demeanor muchly cheered as she found her Hobbitish fashion returned to her cleaned and impeccably repaired. She felt much more herself than in the elvish tunic she had worn- though it was quite comfortable. Still, there was something to be said for straightening her skirts and shirt. Some comforts of home she couldn't give up- her traditional skirts always one of them.
Combing out the plait Nori had left the night before, she re-braided her beads into the thick locks; it had already grown a finger-length since departing the Shire. Carefully, she braided the length into a single plait, careful to tuck the beads into the twists and out of sight of watchful eyes. That event done, she tucked her daggers into their sheaths; they weren't terribly useful here, but it reassured her to have them on her person as she stepped out into Rivendell and all it had to offer.
The paintings in the halls were incredibly beautiful; each one depicting scenes and characters who were detailed so completely she expected them to move or speak.
And oh, the gardens. Her Hobbit nature was pleased indeed at the arched paths that curved over gentle babbling creeks, the water pools fed by the many small waterfalls that surrounded and flowed throughout Rivendell, the warm breeze that rustled the leaves. Elves, it seemed, preferred their gardens to thrive within their home, complimenting the architecture brilliantly. It was no wonder her mother had written so highly, or extensively, on them in her old journals.
Lord Elrond caught up to her mid-day, hidden on one of the alcove balconies overlooking Rivendell in its entirety.
Being a Hobbit, Bilba was more attuned to the world around her. It was like a ripple in a pond that alerted her to his presence as he quietly slipped into place beside her.
"Not with your companions?" he inquired, tone bordering on wry as he looked down to her with gentleness in his features. It was a strange way, seeing how composed all of the elves were. How easily they were able to channel their thoughts with the barest quirk of their brow or lip.
"No. I shan't be missed today." She replied, equally wry. From what she'd heard during their morning meal, it sounded like they would be bathing. However, she had a sneaking suspicion they would not be searching out the baths as she had. "I suspect a few of them don't think I should be on this journey. Insufferable prince included."
"Indeed?" She felt his gaze assessing her again. "I've heard that Hobbits are very resilient."
"Really?" she hummed. "I suppose you would be right to some degree."
He made some noise of affirmation in the back of his throat, deceptively serene as he appeared to be looking off into the distance. "I've also heard they're fond of the comforts of home."
"I've heard it's not wise to seek the counsel of elves." She whispered conspiringly, a warm smile tugging at her lips as she looked over her shoulder before leaning closer. "They will answer both yes, and no."
Lord Elrond levelled a look in her direction- Bilba thought she may have genuinely offended him before a more genuine smile broke through.
"You are very welcome to stay here, if that is your wish." He invited, resting a hand on her shoulder for a moment. Though fleeting, the touch brought some comfort to her turmoiled thoughts.
"Lord Elrond?" she asked tentatively, turning on her heel to face him directly.
"Yes?"
"Might I seek your counsel on another matter? One more… sensitive?" she asked, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.
"Of course." He held out a hand for her to take the lead. "There are chambers down the hall we may use to speak freely."
Bilba couldn't help but fret, torn of her choice to seek Lord Elrond's counsel before recalling that both her Took relations and the Lady Dis had encouraged her to seek out some measure of advice from the elves. It solidified her decision as she followed the elf lord into a comfortably lit room, archways opening and overlooking another courtyard.
Lord Elrond seated himself carefully into an equally comfortable looking chair, gesturing for the Hobbit lass to take a seat in the other. She did so gratefully, arranging her skirts consciously before taking a deep breath.
"I have been having visions." She finally blurted plainly. "For some time now."
"Oh?" Lord Elrond looked taken aback by the declaration, his brows arching as he examined her further still, if that were even possible. "Visions of what nature?"
"I don't know. Some I remember. Others I suspect I do not. Most of them are terrifying or gruesome in some way. I did not even think they were visions until-"
She paused, shuddering as she tried to compose herself. "Until one of them came to pass."
"What came to pass?"
"I met one of the dwarrow in my vision. And since then, all I can think of is what is to come. I never thought I would find myself on this quest, but all of my visions point to something far greater and more terrible than I can believe ahead."
"That is troubling, indeed." Lord Elrond said, brows pulling downward, a furrow to his brow as he considered something. "I admit, I have Seen things of my own. But it was not until you and your company arrived here that I realized they were of you."
Bilba opened her mouth to say something-
A roar of thunder clapped above them, rattling the slippery rock beneath her shaky feet-
Furious eyes boring into her as Thorin snarled something indistinct into her face, fingers like a vice as he gripped onto her-
Blood, everywhere. Soaking into her clothing as she retched weakly-
THE LINE OF DURIN SHALL NOT FALL.
She gasped, feeling as though someone had dripped ice-water down her neck, hands gripping the armchair with all the strength she could. She knew it was a sign of another vision; made worse by the fact she could not recall what it had been.
"Oh dear." She said weakly.