KEYnote: Tons of direct quotes and altered quotes that disrupt my style of writing, but I just adore Tolkien's word play so I left it in for funzies ;D
Chapter 20 - Tooks
It was Lord Elrond who gave Thorin the joining of families speech, and he began with, "Glorfindel's House was once very large."
"His offspring were certainly prosperous," Thorin mused as he accepted the drink the elf poured for him.
"Not as prosperous as you might think."
Thorin, having long given up on finding a partner now that he was entering his last century, had never anticipated needing to have this talk.
Especially not with elven royalty.
He was certain his grandmother would have found this hilarious, his grandfather less so.
On the positive side, Balin didn't need to be present for these talks because there were no treaties being signed.
And Balin had told him in no uncertain terms that being outrageously undiplomatic might lose him more than an ally but Bilbo and the boys as well.
So he played nice.
"What do you mean, he is the sire of the Took clan is he not?"
"Glorfindel was born in the First Age," Elrond said, instead answering the question with a simple yes or no. "His House was quite large, elves flocked to his leadership, his wisdom, and fighting prowess were, and continues to be, well respected."
Thorin allowed himself to be patient, he did not interrupt even as the elf gave him room to.
"But that was several wars ago and those who were not lost to us, the majority have sailed to Valinor."
"But the hobbits," Thorin couldn't quite keep himself from saying.
Elrond's blue eyes sparkled, "Her name was Rosalinda. In those days, hobbits were not a singular people. In truth, I doubt they were a singular race. No one quite knows their origins, not even among us who saw the first sunrise. It's possible they were the offspring of men and dwarves, though in truth, it seemed more likely they were related to both elves and dwarves if not a quiet creation of Yavannah.
"They were wanderers in those days. When I first met Glorfindel's wife, I had worried. As a healer, I had approached her to caution her when she had made it very clear that she wanted children. I feared the size difference between them would make them incompatible. And that was before the concerns of fertility among my people. I did not want her to set her hopes too high."
Thorin tried to hide his own hope for the idea of having pebbles with Bilbo. He was old, he should not wish for children of his own.
But if they aged like hobbits then he could see any of his children with Bilbo grow up and begin families of their own before passing on into Mahal's Halls.
The light in the elf's eyes seemed to dance, "Have they told you of the alternatives Yavannah blessed them for having younglings?"
Thorin nodded, still hardly believing it.
"Planting children," Elrond mused, his smile growing. "I admit, I was skeptical. They planted the seed here, a cherry tree seed in this very garden."
Thorin looked toward the garden where a cherry blossom tree seemed to be in full bloom despite the season.
"I stayed with Glorfindel for months to keep watch. Rosalinda thought us quite foolish but she never chased us away from our vigil. Of all the miraculous things I've seen throughout the ages, a hobbit fauntling birthed from the soil may be among the most divine things I've ever had the honour to witness."
Elrond sighed, "Wish I for every female in Middle Earth that all babes could be welcomed to this life by soil and sky rather than pain and blood."
Thorin ran his thumb over the silver goblet in his hand, trying very hard not to wish for it more greatly than he already did. What would it be like to see, to greet a child holding his One's hand and not be worried for his safety.
Thorin had been present for both of his sister-son's birth and each had nearly been the death of her.
Mori had been beyond frantic.
"The first children looked so very much like Glorfindel that it did not occur to us that such a unity would differ from half-human and half-elvish children. They were beloved, their grandchildren and great grandchildren were beloved. Still, they aged, Rosalinda passed on, as did their family, but Glorfindel did not. I do not believe he ever said as much, but when war called him away, I believe it was a relief to him."
Thorin looked away, having lost Fíli, and almost Kíli, once, he could not imagine outliving them, out living their children.
The idea was abhorrent to him.
"Hobbits, as you know are quite prosperous, but it wasn't for another five generations did one of his line show their elven heritage beyond the superficial appearances. That child had difficulty conceiving. They aged slower, lived to see two centuries which was unheard of for their people, especially in those days. They had one child, and that child lacked the light of the elves and was greatly prosperous.
"And so the ages have passed and so the pattern continued. Unlike with humans and elves, the elven heritage did not dim, it merely skipped over generations. As far as I can discern, Bilbo is as much an elf as I am, and through his connection to Fíli, and now you, his ageing is much delayed to others I have known. Which unlike Bilbo's mother and Frodo who also have the spark, they are ageing normally for their kind, matching their Heartsongs."
Bilbo's father and Samwise.
"Is there a point to this conversation?" Thorin asked.
Elrond raised a brow, "You are unconcerned with wedding an elf?"
Thorin snorted, "Light of the Valar or no, Bilbo is a hobbit. He is my One and I would be honoured beyond any wealth in Middle Earth for him to accept me as his partner."
"Even if your children are half elvish?"
Thorin rolled his eyes, "They will be my children if Mahal and Yavannah are so generous. And before you remind me of my people's reactions, Kíli remains my heir, and it is his children, or Fíli's, who will be next in line to the throne."
Elrond nodded, "My heart is gladdened that you have no reservations, King Oakenshield."
Thorin eyed him, "Yet you have more to say."
"I do, if Glorfindel was here, this would be a far less pleasant conversation for you."
Thorin gestured for him to continue.
"Hobbits are free loving and they have… They are mortal and they adapt. As elves were made from light, dwarves from stone, and humans from blood and bones, we all reflect our makers' intentions. Hobbits were shaped from clay and green growing things. They need sunshine and safety to thrive.
"When they grow roots, when they love, it is forever and they are more loyal than any. Not to their words or laws, or even how you imagine loyalty ought to be, but they are loyal all the same. Greed is not their weakness, gold does not compel them, and the promise of glory is often more a deterrent than lore. But they are driven by their hearts which, if needs must, will lead them through many foolish deeds and perilous ventures."
"I would have spared him had I known," Thorin admitted.
Elrond smiled at him sadly, "It is their way, to follow the seasons of birth, life, death, and renewal. There is a season of love for them and a season for dying. And what I know of mortals seems doubly true of hobbits, that their lives would lose meaning if they were to burn less brightly. If they were meant to find their partner in this life, then they would never willingly choose another fate, no matter where that led them."
"Fíli told me that I was not allowed to die for him."
"Fíli is a wise dwarf, young, oh so very young, but he is wise. If your people listen to him, he will help bring upon a new era for the dwarrow."
Thorin was careful not to let his emotions show, not least of which because he didn't know how to feel. So many years lost, and yet it was as if Fíli had been sent away for a diplomatic education, not the terror and grief that had ravaged their family and stolen Kíli's childhood away from him.
"I was surprised," Thorin ventured when the elf lord said no more yet did not dismiss him. "Fíli knows many things that dwarven smiths thought lost to time."
Elrond inclined his head, "Our library is quite large, you are welcome to read at your leisure."
Thorin sighed, "He was given an elven apprenticeship."
"Yes, but it was and always has been, a dwarven craft. My brethren may claim masteries, and certainly, the sword you wield is an estimate of the skill elves are capable of. But it is not our element. It is not why the Valar intended for us. When Bilbo and Glorfindel brought a dwarfling to Imladris, he was beloved. We have seen dwarven children, more than our own, but he was brought to us and placed under our protection.
"Your nephew is much adored here and in the Golden Wood. It has been many centuries since one of us was young and inspired enough by gems and metals to pick up the craft for beauty and passion's sake. Fíli has an elven master, but there is no smith here or in Lothlorien who has not shared some bit of their knowledge. Nothing was kept from him, and if something was, it was from lack of time, not a reticence to share."
It had been so long since Thorin had crafted anything for the art of the craft that it lessened the resentment in his heart.
He needed to stop comparing the lives they could have had and accept that there was bad and good in both.
Certainly, nothing good had come for Dís, but it was not unthinkable that in an effort to keep them together that they may have held back either Kíli or Fíli's pursuit of their crafts.
Though in no way preferable to be separated from his brother, Kíli had been able to apprentice under Frerin, having his uncle's sole focus outside of their work day.
At this point, it was clear to Thorin that both Bilbo and the elves had done their best by Fíli, giving him the best life and future that could have been given to him, outside of a dwarvish settlement.
Knowing that Fíli had never gone hungry and that with one less mouth to feed that Kíli had never known starvation either?
It was… the best outcome of such a tragedy.
"I notice, and I admit, I'm glad to not hear any tales that you took my nephew to Mirkwood."
Elrond's face did a slight pinch of dislike, which perversely made Thorin like the elf better.
"No, that road is dangerous, and their king keeps their people rather secluded," Elrond said no more on the topic. "I do fear you going that way."
"You will not stop us?" Thorin asked.
"No, Smaug must be defeated. Would that I could command an army to follow you, King Oakenshield, but I fear the enemy's shadows have extended far beyond their nests. My people are engaged in protecting the Shire."
"I would not take you from that duty," Thorin admitted.
"Do not underestimate the darkness in the south. The dragon may become the least of your trials."
Thorin grimaced.
"I urge you to make allies along the road," Elrond cautioned.
Thorin did not want to be told to make nice with Mirkwood so he asked instead, "Will your people help the hobbits move to Erebor if we succeed?"
"Of course, my hopes ride with King Thorin, and when concerning hobbits, I've often found difficulties more frequently overcome, if never in the way you expect them to."
Thorin smiled slightly at that as he thought of Bilbo.
oOo
Frerin sat beside Kíli where he was smoking from a pipe relaxing on a balcony.
"So, what do you think of your brother's fate?"
"That our people won't like it but I'm entirely grateful for it. For Bilbo and the elves," Kíli responded without hesitation.
Frerin nodded, "That's how I feel as well. He'll make an excellent ambassador and counsellor for you one day. Better than I made for Thorin."
"That's not true, Uncle Thorin has always depended on you."
Frerin smiled, "He trusted me with you after losing one nephew, I know that my brother and sister value me. But I would not be half so useful to Thorin speaking with elves, Dís might not even be that useful to him. Even treaties with men, I believe I would be ill suited for. I'm more familiar with pirates than dignitaries."
"I can't ever imagine ruling a Kingdom like Ereborn."
Frerin wrapped an arm around his sister-son's shoulder, "With any luck, you will have many decades to learn. Besides, I'd imagine it will take some time to return it to its glory."
"Mahal guide our path," Kíli muttered.
"And Yavannah," Frerin said, waggling his eyebrows.
They both laughed, their kin finding their One was always a reason to rejoice. A hobbit as king's consort was simply an extra delight.
oOo
Thorin walked into the elven forge, and no one stopped him.
No one was present in the forge save for Fíli who was polishing his weapons in the far corner, by an open window that looked onto a garden with a large fountain.
"I spoke with Lord Elrond," Thorin said in greeting. Sitting on the bench beside him and reaching for a wet stone as he pulled out the blade Fíli himself had made and gifted Thorin.
"How did that go?" Fíli asked without looking up.
"We spoke mostly of Bilbo and the dangers ahead. We also spoke of your apprenticeship and how much the elves doted on you."
Colour rose to his cheeks, "The last child the elves had was Prince Legolas of the Woodland Realm. They doted on Bilbo and Estel too."
"Of that I have no doubt," Thorin agreed. "Still a pupil's skill does not belong to the master, it is the student's own. Their dedication, their efforts, and their knowledge is their own." Thorin turned the sword to catch the light. "This sword has no name yet, though it is the finest I've ever held."
Fíli shook his head, "I don't need false flattery, Uncle."
"It is anything but false," Thorin said as he took Orcrist from his belt. "This sword has no fault. But the one you gave me is more suited to a dwarf. The balance is better for someone of my height and build. It is meant to be used as a proper broadsword ought to be wielded rather than the more nimble wielding that such a blade as Orcrist requires."
"I didn't want my masterwork to be a reflection of my elfish masters, I wanted it to be a reflection of me. A dwarf descended from a proud history and who was accepted by elves," Fíli explained.
"It shows." Thorin traced the diamond pattern on the hilt. "These are not the designs of my grandfather's time, these are the patterns of our great-great grandfather, those that might have been during the days of Durin."
"I know," Fíli said softly.
Thorin smiled, clasping his sister-son's shoulder, "This was not your first forge. You were in Dís's lap reaching for her tools from the moment you could sit up while Kíli was out climbing trees. Frankly, I don't think your brother will have many difficulties getting along with your elvish friends."
Fíli smiled, "Someone's going to take him aside and either teach him something or challenge him. Or both."
Thorin smiled back, "And I'm sure he'll enjoy it. Archery isn't as highly respected among our people as it should be. It's seen as more necessity, than a skill chosen out of passion." He held out the sheathed Orcrist blade, "This is more suited to your style of fighting. You can not untrain your grace or agility, nor should you try. It is to your benefit against many a foe that they will neither expect your style of movement nor your strength as a dwarf of Durin's line."
Fíli seemed at a loss for words as he accepted Orcrist.
"My gratitude for your life is unending and unshakable, anything else is but another blessing of Mahal's. What is, is what was meant to be."
Fíli hugged him, and Thorin gladly returned the hug.
oOo
When they left Rivendell, it was to merry elvish songs, well blessings, and fully supplied. They planned to turn the pony's back once they reached the climb of the mountain road. Gandalf lingered behind for some purpose of his own.
Thorin, for his part, was happy to be moving again. And the day seemed to speed by, well rested as they were, the miles did not seem so very long.
There were no more secrets now, and as a result, no more hiding or suppressing their feelings. Bilbo sat tucked under Thorin's arm, leaning into his chest as their company sat around the fire.
Thorin was happy.
Simply happy.
Happier than he thought he could be on this journey.
Bilbo was with him. Truly with him. If they succeeded, then Thorin would have everything he could ever want. Stability for his people, for his family, and for his One.
Thorin wouldn't be a beggar either, he would be able to provide for his One much as any hobbit could dream of.
His family nor his people would want for food or shelter.
And as much as he planned on showering his love in jewels, he knew that if Bilbo wore any metal or a stone it would be for Thorin's benefit, not his own.
They were all sitting by the fire halfway up the mountain. They would cross at first light. But for now, they held onto the bit of seasonal wealth that remained.
Thorin pressed his loaf of bread into Bilbo's hand.
Bilbo flushed but did not argue.
Thorin had noticed his hobbit fasting since the beginning of their trip. But this bread was too light to be rationed. And if it rained tomorrow as the clouds indicated it might, then the bread wouldn't survive.
So Thorin would ensure Bilbo started getting larger portions. Dwarves were hardier, so were hobbits, but hobbits had faster metabolisms and if they wanted to take advantage of his keen mind and sharp eyes he needed to be as well fed as was feasible.
However, the passing of the bread was less than subtle and Thorin all but preened as Bilbo flushed yet leaned into Thorin's side in silent gratitude.
Balin and Dwalin looked amused.
Frerin looked torn between curiosity and making a joke but thankfully refrained from either. The others watched Bilbo, knowing he was Thorin's One and being faced with the reality that Bilbo would be their King Consort was quite another.
Saradoc knew exactly what to say, "Elves and dwarvish royalty make things too complicated."
Bilbo just rolled his eyes, "It's settled now."
Thorin did not suppress his smile.
"What about your wife, Saradoc?" Gloin asked. "I left mine with my son, but I couldn't have left knowing my death would cause hers."
Several sharp intakes of breath were taken around the fire as they all made the connection to what Saradoc was risking.
Sara smiled sadly, "Bilbo doesn't have any siblings. His closest kin outside of Fíli is Frodo. Esmeralda has her older brother, Paladin, and Merry has all of her siblings and his cousins. He would be fine without us."
"No wonder the halflings don't go to war," murmured Balin.
"We were not built for it," Bilbo agreed.
Saradoc clapped his hands, chasing away the tension. "But enough of this, I want stories of the princes when they were faunts. Fíli is an honorary Took, I can't imagine the pair of them were well behaved as wee-things."
Frerin grinned, "Not in the slightest."
Nori snorted, "My twin, Mori, wasn't royalty, he ended up being with them most often to watch them. Only, he was blind. The pebbles were good to him, but they used to booby-trap the rest of the apartment for the rest of us."
Thorin noticed Ori perked up, likely it was a rare occurrence for Nori to talk about their brother since he passed.
Dwalin made a pained sound, "He was your twin. Mori knew exactly what his pebbles were up to, the brats."
oOo
Fíli couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips as his family's retellings of his youth sparked memories he had long thought lost.
Saradoc added his own bit of the mischief that he and Fíli had gotten into.
Ages being what they were, Saradoc was a parent while Fíli was just now coming of age. Saradoc shared little in common with the faunt he remembered from thirty years ago.
Bilbo's warning about him needing his kin, because he would outlive his peers among men and hobbits, was sobering.
But with it came the realisation that Thorin wasn't some young dwarf. He might not show his age like Balin or Oin, but technically, he was older than both of them. If they survived to the end of their natural life spans, Uncle Thorin and his dah would pass on around the same time.
Fíli sighed, he owed his dah another apology.
oOo
The next morning brought them into the rockface of the Misty Mountains.
The rain was incredible as it fell from the skies as if the gods were sobbing.
They had to let the ponies find their way back to elves. There was hardly any talking as they clung to the rock walls.
Bilbo looked back to see the pained fear etched into Saradoc's face as the icy rain bit at their faces and the daunting drop lay just beyond their toes.
Bilbo reached out his hand toward the younger hobbit, just in time too as the ground gave way.
Clinging together, Saradoc slipped off the edge of the cliff, dragging Bilbo along with him.
Frerin threw himself atop Bilbo to catch him and grab a firmer grip onto Saradoc's other hand.
Bilbo grunted, but helped the dwarf prince pull Sara up onto the ledge.
It wasn't the first slip.
What followed was a harrowing adventure of dancing on the toes of giants.
oOo
By the time they found a cave, Thorin was furious.
"You shouldn't have come!" Thorin roared as Bilbo was squeezing the water out of Saradoc's coat.
Bilbo scoffed, "Save it, Thorin. We should have waited for the wizard."
Balin grinned and Thorin shot him a quelling look.
Bilbo made himself comfortable, huddling between Kíli and Fíli as if he was the glue trying to finally fuse the two together as he shivered.
"You almost got my brother killed," Thorin growled.
"Oh, no," Bilbo said in mock concern. "I owe a prince of Erebor a life debt, how ever will I repay him on this perilous quest to taunt a dragon?"
Stifled chuckles filled the cavern.
Thorin grit his teeth, "You could have died."
Bilbo's curly head poked up between his sister-sons. "What part of the definition for the word perilous are you struggling with, oh king?"
Frerin snorted.
"You make me so furious!" Thorin exclaimed, though no one seemed worried.
"It's not the only thing I make you," Bilbo said, squeezing out his own jacket.
"Dah!" Fíli exclaimed.
This time, the cavern was filled with out right laughter.
Thorin shook his head, struggling not to smile, "Get some sleep, infuriating hobbit."
Bilbo saluted him before disappearing back between the two brothers. Thorin took off his fur cloak that had managed to repel most of the rain to drape over the trio before moving toward the cave entrance to take watch.
He checked on their other hobbit, and found that Sara similarly curled up between Bifur and Bofur.
Thorin was glad that their two hobbits were already friends with half of the company.
Though, he wasn't quite sure the company had realised how cuddly hobbits were.
Sure, no one who had visited Bag End had gone unclimbed on by the faunts, but, generally, the adults stuck to themselves.
Fíli and Thorin probably were the only two who knew the full extent of it.
oOo
No sooner was Bilbo closing his eyes, heat radiating from either side of him as his head fell onto Kíli's shoulder, then it seemed the floor was falling out beneath them.
Literally.
He must have slept some because it took longer than it should have for him to get his bearings.
Then there were goblins, so many goblins.
Bilbo managed to worm himself between limbs to get back to Fíli's side.
oOo
The goblins were singing horrible, horrible songs that ended with a barked command of, "Rip them apart. Start with the youngest one."
The goblin king gestured to Ori who was not the youngest, though he certainly looked it.
Thorin was about to speak when Bilbo elbowed him so his One could stand in front of their group.
"I am Bilbo Baggins-Took, Hobbit and descendant of Thrain Took. I've hired these dwarves to find the monument carved on the east foot of the Misty Mountains that denotes the place golf was invented and they say the first putted head of a goblin still rots."
Thorin gaped at his One as every goblin in Goblintown fell silent.
The goblin king stared down at Bilbo.
Then chaos erupted.
The goblin king roared and the others broke out in exclamations of;
"TOOK!"
"The Took!"
"The Thain!"
"Never go west! Never go west!"
Thorin made to step forward only for Fíli to grab his arm, "He's buying us time."
"Time for what?" Thorin hissed.
The goblin king stood, towering over Bilbo. "Who are you to the Thain?"
"I am the last Thain, the last Took," Bilbo lied. "When I return to the elves, you will surely be smited from Moria."
Thorin looked to Fíli who whispered in Khuzdul, "There's not enough elves to exterminate them all from inside the caves, but they could kill as many as dare to leave the mountains."
Goblins were not orcs. Dangerous if you were surrounded by them, less dangerous if you could pick them off from above and surround them.
The goblin king sneered as he grabbed Bilbo by the neck, lifting him up, and up, "You shall be the last because we will feed you to the deepest depths of these caverns and you will be drowned."
If Thorin had doubts about the goblins knowing hobbits, they were quelled as he saw Bilbo go pale.
Not because a goblin had him by the neck but at the threat of being drowned.
Bilbo was one of the few hobbits who could truly swim. But if the goblins attached a weight to him…
Bilbo twisted in the goblin's hold as he was thrown into the awaiting dirty and clawed hands that quivered even as they handled the hobbit roughly.
"Dah!" Fíli yelled.
"Take the other halfling," the goblin king commanded. "They can drown together."
Sara flailed like a caught bird on a string, though it did him no good.
The company all began struggling to follow their hobbits.
Bilbo managed to yell in elvish to Fíli who was being held back as they all were.
"What did he say?" Thorin demanded.
"Don't look back," Fíli snarled.
The goblin king smiled. "The last Tooks will die tonight."
Fíli swore at him.
Also in elvish.
"Dwarves who are friends of elves," the goblin spat.
A bright light cracked through the cavern, blinding them all before Gandalf was ushering them to safety.
In the chaos they could only hope that Bilbo and Sara found their own escape.
oOo
The thing about hobbits, even when you feared them, one still tended to underestimate them.
The goblins didn't take Bilbo's sword nor Sara's pack and they goblins weren't prepared for when Bilbo spotted a hole for him to duck down into it, Sara right behind him.
Just because they could both swim, did not mean they could swim holding up a boulder the goblins doubtless were planning to tie them to.
He didn't know how long he ran, maybe for a minute, maybe for twenty but he almost didn't stop when he came to a ledge. Too bad Sara couldn't stop his own momentum, launching them both off the ledge into the shadowy cavern below.
They were so very lucky when they hit the water and not a rock bottom.
Having grown up on the Brandywine, Sara was able to stay afloat with Bilbo.
It still wasn't pleasant, neither being this wet nor the memories of his cousins.
He didn't have long to reflect on those memories however as they were sucked into a current and pulled through a hole beneath the water.
Bilbo could not describe what followed next aside from the fact that it was dark, and wet and he hardly had a moment to breathe as he tumbled into rocks, slipping ever downward, emerging from one puddle only to be thrown into a stream. It was an effort to hold onto Sara and not be separated.
The water was painfully cold and when it finally stopped. His head was spinning and not a part of him was without ache.
Sara groaned and choked on water as Bilbo helped pull him out of the water onto a rocky shore.
There was some natural light here because he could dimly make out the borders of the underground lake.
Still, it wasn't enough light and Bilbo fell back on his butt as he tried to catch his breath. He startled a bit when his hand met something warm, a bit of metal, a ring that he thoughtlessly put into his pocket before pushing himself back to his feet, shivering and shaking but the need to get back to the others compelled him to keep moving.
He would not fail Fíli again, not now.
Not when the journey wasn't even halfway done.
oOo
Saradoc Brandybuck would not classify himself as alright and he was grateful that Bilbo did not ask.
"What's wrong with your arm?" Bilbo asked instead.
Sara couldn't say, mostly because he wasn't sure he could feel any of his limbs. He was so cold, but he couldn't move one of his arms.
Bilbo, being a healer, or healer adjacent, figured out what was wrong and he grimaced. "You dislocated your shoulder. This is going to hurt."
Saradoc didn't have long to prepare himself as Bilbo took hold of him. He screamed into his jacket as Bilbo popped his shoulder back into place. He tried not to hiss at his elder as Bilbo made him a sling after taking his pack. Sara had been the only one aside from Oin who had worn his as they slept.
Bilbo wasn't really his elder, less than two two decades separated them. But Bilbo was a father when Saradoc had been but a faunt himself. That Fíli had been Saradoc's best friend before the pair had been 'chased out of the Shire' played a big part in how he viewed the once Thain of the Shire.
Bilbo wasn't old, but he was wise and the most well travelled hobbit in the Shire. He was also a healer, if not quite as good as his mother had been.
All that, very much made Bilbo his elder.
Bilbo held up a finger to his lips as they travelled further into a cavern that was lit by some strange light source. Sara couldn't tell if it was distant light from the outside filtered down from the caves or some luminous worms like from the stories.
Then he heard it.
"Bless us and splash us, my precioussss! I guess it's a choice feast; at least a tasty morsel they'd make us, gollum!" And when he said gollum he made a horrible swallowing noise in his throat.
It was a hideous creature. It didn't look like a goblin, nor human, nor dwarf.
In fact, its big feet and small stature made it seem almost hobbitish, which made it all the worse.
Sara blinked and the strange thing disappeared.
Then a hiss came from beside them and suddenly two pale eyes looked up at them. "Who are you?" he said, thrusting his dagger in front of him. "What are they, my preciouss?" whispered Gollum.
"What's he got in his handses?" said Gollum, looking at the sword Bilbo had drawn, which he did not quite seem to like.
"A sword," Bilbo answered calmly. "A blade which came out of Gondolin."
"Sssss," said Gollum, and became quite polite. "Praps ye sits here and chats with it a bitsy, my preciousss. It like riddles, praps it does, does it?"
Saradoc swallowed a scoff, "Of course he does, he's a Baggins."
The creature, Gollum, seeing as he had not introduced himself as anything else, hissed, "Good, good."
"What has lots of eyes, but can't see?" Saradoc asked, because he didn't want to put Bilbo on the spot.
Bilbo was half glaring at Saradoc who smiled sheepishly at him
Gollum sucked at his lips then bared his gums with ragged teeth, "Potatoes, my precious, they don't grow here but we knowss."
Saradoc exchanged a look with Bilbo, who only shook his head in a silent answer.
Great, not even Bilbo Baggins knew what this thing was.
Gollum asked his first riddle; "What has roots as nobody sees,
Is taller than trees,
Up, up it goes,
And yet never grows?"
"Easy!" said Bilbo. "Mountain, I suppose."
"Does it guess easy? They must have a competition with us, my preciouss! If precious asks, and it doesn't answer, we eats it, my preciousss. If they asks us, and we doesn't answer, then we does what it wants, eh? We shows it the way out, yes!"
Saradoc felt all the blood drain from his face, but Bilbo was a braver hobbit than him and agreed readily. "All right. What has many teeth, but can't bite?"
It was rather an old one, too, and Gollum knew the answer.
"A comb, my preciousss; but we needs it not." Gollum said, brushing over his mostly bald head, then he asked his second: "What is so fragile that saying its name breaks it?"
"Silence!" Saradoc cried, and then he flushed when Bilbo raised a brow at him. "My ma used to ask me that one often."
Bilbo smiled a bit, though his grip never loosened on his sword.
"Forward I am heavy, but backward I am not. What am I?" Sara asked the creature.
Saradoc wasn't certain if this being knew how to spell or not, but the answer was in the question.
After some while it seemed he didn't know how to spell and the riddle proved a nasty poser for Gollum. He hissed to himself, and still he did not answer; he whispered and spluttered.
Bilbo seemed to be growing impatient as he prompted, "Well, what is it? The answer's not a kettle boiling over, as you seem to think from the noise you are making."
"Give us a chance; let it give us a chance, my preciouss-ss-ss."
"Well," said Bilbo, after giving him a long chance, "What about your guess?"
"No, no…" Gollum snarled, then grew excited. "NOT!" It laughed. "Not! Is the answer. The men used to ask for tons of fish but we never gave it. No, precious, we never did." Then Gollum asked what might have been a difficult riddle;
"It cannot be seen, cannot be felt,
Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt.
It lies behind stars and under hills,
And empty holes it fills.
It comes first and follows after,
Ends life, kills laughter."
Unfortunately for Gollum, Bilbo and Sara had heard that sort of thing before; and the answer was all around them anyway.
"Dark!" they answered together.
Bilbo, proving himself to be the parent he was, asked the next riddle, "What is full of holes but still holds water?"
Gollum hissed, grumbling as he had done before, but clearly this creature had lived above ground at some point and through this game was reminded of its old life. "A sponge, my precious."
Sara really wished it would stop talking in the third person and referring to 'precious' as if there was someone else in the cave with them.
Gollum's next question was laughably easy for any hobbit who had grown up along the Brandywine.
"A live without breath,
As cold as death;
Never thirsty, ever drinking,
All in mail never clinking."
"Fish," Saradoc answered he did share his surname, at least partly, with a river.
Gollum was dreadfully disappointed; but Bilbo asked another riddle as quick as ever he could; "I cannot talk, but I always reply when spoken to. What am I?"
Gollum did not need long to answer that one at all as he made a clicking sound, before crooning, "Echo."
And the word did indeed echo creepily around them. Gollum followed up with another riddle, making Sara wonder where this game ended.
"This thing all things devours:
Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;
Gnaws iron, bites steel;
Grinds hard stones to meal;
Slays king, ruins town,
And beats high mountain down."
"Time," Saradoc said, smiling at Bilbo. "Frodo asked me that one. I swear, the lad likes reading more than you do, Bilbo."
Gollum was disappointed once more; and now he was getting angry, and also tired of the game. It seemed to have made him very hungry indeed. He sat down in the dark beside them.
It made them dreadfully uncomfortable and scattered Sara's wits.
"It's got to ask uss a quesstion, my preciouss, yes, yess, yesss. Jusst one more quesstion to guess, yes, yess," said Gollum.
Sara was scared to ask another. He had no desire to be eaten and there were laws to the riddle game, ancient ones his mother had warned him about.
But Bilbo seemed unable to think of any riddle either with that nasty wet cold thing sitting next to him. It began pawing and poking at Bilbo, until he swung his sword.
"Ask us! ask us!" said Gollum, baring its teeth.
Bilbo pinched himself; he gripped on his sword ever tighter.
Saradoc was preparing, they had agreed to the riddle deal by force, surely they could break it without ill consequence.
And what could be worse than being eaten alive anyway.
Bilbo again met Sara's gaze, reaching the same conclusion as he asked their last riddle, "I have lakes with no water, mountains with no stone and cities with no buildings. What am I?"
Gollum hissed and spluttered and rocked himself backwards and forwards, and slapped his feet on the floor, and wriggled and squirmed; but still he did not dare to waste his last guess.
"Come on," Bilbo egged on. "I am waiting."
Saradoc pressed his shoulder to Bilbo's, knowing the hobbit's cheerfulness was all for show. Neither of them knew if the game was going to end, whether Gollum guessed right or not it would try to attack them. It was obviously capable of killing goblins by hand, even if Bilbo managed to kill it they might get badly hurt.
Sara felt especially useless with one of his arms in a sling.
The good thing about this riddle was that it was a paper object that a creature Gollum likely had no use of.
"Time's up!" Bilbo said.
"History or landlords!" shrieked Gollum, which was not quite fair-working in two guesses at once.
"Both wrong," cried Bilbo, sounding very much relieved. He jumped at once to his feet, putting their backs to the nearest wall, and held out his sword, keeping Saradoc behind him.
Saradoc was also relieved, they both knew, of course, that the riddle-game was sacred and of immense antiquity, and it appeared that even wicked creatures were afraid to cheat when they played at it.
And yet, neither of them trusted this slimy creature.
But at any rate Gollum did not at once attack them. He could see the sword in Bilbo's hand. He sat still, shivering and whispering.
Saradoc waited for Bilbo to decide what to do.
Sara would forever think of dingy old maps more fondly from that point forward as the map riddle had perhaps saved their hides.
"Well?" Bilbo asked. "What about your promise? I want to go. You must show me the way."
"Did we say so, precious? Show the nassty little Harfoots, the way out, yes, yes. But how'd they get here, precious? How did the Harfoots get lost? Gollum, gollum!"
Harfoots, the word sent a shiver down Saradoc's spine.
Hobbits were descended from three 'halfling races' but Saradoc did not like that this creature was calling them by one of their ancestor's names.
He didn't like it at all.
"Never you mind," said Bilbo. "A promise is a promise."
"Cross it is, impatient, precious," hissed Gollum. "But it must wait, yes it must. We can't go up the tunnels so hasty. We must go and get some things first, yes, things to help us."
"Well, hurry up!" said Bilbo, wanting rid of him.
Saradoc thought he was just making an excuse and did not mean to come back. What was Gollum talking about? What useful thing could he keep out on the dark lake?
"My birthday-present!" Gollum whispered to himself, as he had often done in the endless dark days. "That's what we wants now, yes; we wants it!"
Saradoc pulled Bilbo back as their sensitive hearing picked up what Gollum had planned for them. "Quite safe, yes," he whispered to himself. "It won't see us, will it, my precious? No. It won't see us, and its nassty little sword will be useless, yes quite."
Bilbo refused to turn his back on Gollum, so Saradoc kept a hold on Bilbo's arm as he led them back through the tunnels.
Suddenly he heard a screech. It sent a shiver down his back. Gollum was cursing and wailing away in the gloom, not very far off by the sound of it. He was on his island, scrabbling here and there, searching and seeking in vain. "Where is it? Where iss it? Losst it is, my precious, lost, lost! Curse us and crush us, my precious is lost!"
Sara had decided that riddle bargains were not worth sticking ones hopes on and pulled Bilbo down a passageway.
The splashing sounds echoed after them as Gollum crossed the lake again was reason enough to keep going.
The hissing came closer behind them. Saradoc turned and saw Gollum's eyes like small green lamps coming up the slope of a hill. Terrified, Sara tripped, landing hard on his rear and jolting his arm.
Bilbo also fell but with an irate monster on him.
The clatter of Bilbo's sword chilled the blood in Sara's veins as he scrambled with the creature as if it was a rabid animal.
"Gives it back! Stole it you did! Stole's it the Harfoots did. Bagginss!"
Already on his arse, Saradoc reached for the fallen sword and jabbed it upward.
The elven blade went in with sickening ease that would haunt Saradoc Brandybuck for the rest of his days.
Gollum squealed.
Not many hobbits raised pigs, turkey bacon was much more popular than pork.
Why?
Because pigs were smart and dangerous. Wild boars were worse than wolves. Wolves would only harm you if they were truly starving, but boars were just violent. And a loosed pig turned into a boar, growing hair and tusks. Needless to say that after Fell Winter, the Shire stopped raising them, one would have to go to Bree to get pork.
Gollum's death wails brought back memories of the sounds boars made in the cold of winter.
"My birthday-present!" the creature wailed, finding its words as it choked on breath. "Curse it, curse'em, my precious… gollum…"
It gave one final cough before its fleshy and skeleton form finally went still.
"Sara," Bilbo coaxed. "Saradoc, Saradoc!"
He looked at the older hobbit, realising that he didn't know how long Bilbo had been calling his name. Nor when they both had sat up.
"You saved me, Saradoc. It's okay."
"Is it?" Sara asked as Bilbo crouched before him. "I've never killed anyone before, and he's– he was–"
Bilbo took his hands in his, "Sara, orcs were once elves, trolls were once ents. It matters what hopes we hold onto. You did not kill out of malice or apathy. Today we survived because of you."
"How are we going to get out of here?" Sara asked, looking away from the corpse curled around a sword that had not glowed in Gollum's presence.
Bilbo squeezed his hand and smiled, "My Heartsong is out there. I might not be able to hear the stone song like he can. But I do know which direction he's gone. And if that fails, we can just go in the opposite direction of yours."
Saradoc let out a harsh breath as he closed his eyes and focused on his own Heartsong. He did his best to ignore the sounds of Bilbo retrieving his sword.
It wasn't so much a sound as a sense, a feeling of a heartbeat against your own that you could feel more strongly if you thought of them, if you faced the direction of where they were.
Two hearts pulled together, two hearts meant to sing together.
Whatever Ezsmeralda was doing, she was a far sight calmer than he was in this moment, for his Heartsong was a quiet constant rhythm.
Saradoc exhaled before asking, "What does Thorin's heartbeat feel like?"
"Deep, slow. Dwarves have slower heartbeats than us. Even when we're running for our lives, apparently. It doesn't seem to speed up much, just pound with more gusto."
Saradoc snorted, "No wonder they don't eat properly."
Bilbo hummed as he returned and offered Saradoc a hand up, "Ready to go rub it in the dwarves' faces that hobbits truly are the goblins' worst nightmares?"
Saradoc clasped hands with him, allowing himself to be pulled up to his feet with his good arm, ignoring the aches.
Bilbo, thankfully, did seem to know where he was going.
"How are we going to get our people over the mountain?" Sara asked.
"Rohan," Bilbo answered. "If we have to have an army of elves and dwarves, so be it. We are not going through or over the Misties."
Saradoc groaned, "I do not look forward to taking this path home."
"I think you and I could befriend the eagles. Gandalf's always talking about them. Doubtless, Thorin or Frerin would insult them somehow. But you and I are tiny burdens to bear. I bet if we asked really nicely, they might help us."
Saradoc hated heights, but anything was better than these mountains.
It took a lot of trial and error for them to find their way out. Constantly hiding from the goblins and doubling back from a dead end.
But having a Heartsong compass, if you will, led them to the gate.
Only, there were sooo many goblins between them and the door.
Bilbo grabbed Saradoc and pressed them tight against the door and did something he had been using to entertain faunts for years.
He threw his voice.
It sounded as if it was coming from much further down the passageway of one of the other tunnels.
"TOOKS!" the goblins cried. "Tooks! We've caught in the southern dead end! Arms! Come on, you swine!"
Saradoc hated that the same things that made Bilbo a great storyteller and singer, made him incredibly creepy when he wanted to be.
But, Bilbo's plan worked, and the goblin guards rushed right by them.
Bilbo and Sara bolted through the open doors.
Shouts followed behind them as their feet slapped on the stone floors as they moved with speed and not stealth. Regrettably for the goblins, they were already escaping into daylight by the time they realised they had been tricked.
oOo
Frerin was rather done with the wizard. Gandalf was saying that they could not possibly go on with their journey leaving Mister Baggins and Mister Brandybuck in the hands of the goblins, without trying to find out if they were alive or dead and trying to save them.
"After all Bilbo is my friend," said the wizard. "And not a bad little chap. I feel responsible for them. I wish to goodness you had not lost them."
"We didn't 'lose' them," Frerin growled, holding onto Thorin's arm who was more than willing to turn back for his hobbit. "He called himself a Took and the goblins went wild. They dragged them away from us before you showed up."
Balin gave a cry of greeting.
And Frerin saw two forms sprinting down from the mountain.
Thorin shrugged out of Frerin's hold and caught his hobbit up in his arms.
Saradoc, who had been following close behind, gave a grunt as Fíli saved him from ploughing into the lovebirds.
"We've got to go," Saradoc panted.
"Are you okay?" Fíli demanded.
"We're fine, but we won't be if we stay here," Saradoc explained.
Frerin did not doubt him.
oOo
AN: Thoughts, ravens, or reactions, pretty please.