Clarity of Vision, Chapter 13
Title: Clarity of Vision, Chapter 13
Relationship: Thorin/Bilbo
Characters: Bilbo Baggins, Fíli, Kíli, Thorin, Dwalin, Balin, Gandalf
Fandom: Hobbit
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Rating: G
Word Count: 1900
Story Summary: In a Middle-Earth where Erebor never fell, a shadow remains in the heart of the Lonely Mountain. Bilbo Baggins finds himself drawn reluctantly into a quest that will lead him across the continent--from Bree to Lake Evendim to the icy North and beyond--with a party of five dwarves searching for an artifact that will cure the ailing King Thrór.
Chapter Summary: The party leaves to travel south to Rivendell and somehow finds the road pleasant despite the weather.
"Farewell, dwarves! Farewell, Bilbo!" From a high promontory, Stefa waved goodbye as the party rode south beyond the boundaries of the Rangers' territory. "Farewell, Kíli! Farewell, Fíli!" She blew two kisses toward them, and Fíli blushed brilliant scarlet.
Thorin frowned at his nephew. "I hope you haven't left a broken heart behind you," he growled.
"Quite the opposite," chortled Kíli. "I believe he carries it with him." Fíli lobbed an apple at him and hit him in the head. "Ow!"
"Here now," said Bilbo, "Don't be wasting those apples. I was hoping to roast some with a little cinnamon tonight."
Fíli and Kíli apologized profusely for their bad manners. "Tell us more," said Kíli, rubbing his hands gleefully. "What did the Rangers give you for provisions?"
"Well," Bilbo said, "They gave us some lovely lamb sausages and I think I can make some fennel sauce to go with them."
Kíli and Fíli sighed with anticipation and Dwalin groaned out loud. "You torment us, Bilbo," he rumbled. "Can we not ride faster and camp earlier, Thorin?"
"We keep to the pace we decided," Thorin said.
"And Stefa slipped me a little vial of truffle oil," Bilbo added. "If we can find some wild carrots, that should be quite nice."
Thorin's stomach rumbled; he tightened his jaw and looked straight ahead, hoping no one had heard it. "Perhaps it cannot hurt to pick up the pace just a little," he said.
At his right side, Gandalf cast him an amused look. Thorin gave him a glare back. There may be no way across the mountains without Gandalf's help, but that did not mean he had to like it.
There was a humming sound behind him, and Thorin turned to see Bilbo absent-mindedly humming under his breath, almost smiling. When he saw Thorin looking at him, he ducked his head and looked away, the tune faltering.
"What is that song?" Thorin asked.
"Oh, just a little something I'm working on," Bilbo said. "A nonsense ditty to pass the time. I think I'll call it 'The Man in the Moon Came Down Too Soon.'"
"A rather unwieldy title," said Thorin, and Bilbo laughed.
"For a rather unwieldy song, I'm afraid! I cannot get the third verse to scan at all."
"Sing it for us, won't you?" coaxed Fíli.
"Maybe we can help!" added Kíli.
Bilbo looked torn between embarrassment and pride. "Well, here is what I have so far," he said. He took a quick breath and began to sing:
"There is an inn, a merry old inn
beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
One night to drink his fill..."
His clear light voice lifted against the craggy darkness of the Ettenmoors and seemed to change the very mood of the place from glowering to laughing. Soon all of the party were suggesting rhymes and turns to the story: Kíli came up with a tipsy cat and fiddle--"Like the ones Fíli and I play!"--and Balin added some silver spoons. Dwalin suggested a cow, and even Gandalf was nodding his head to the rhythm of the song, smiling.
Thorin watched Bilbo Baggins smile and sing and wondered what had happened to change his mood. Perhaps he was looking forward to seeing the elves of Rivendell. More likely it was the knowledge that there he would find safety and passage home to the Shire, that he could refuse to travel any further with this company of mad dwarves.
Thorin found he did not truly care what the reason was, for Bilbo's laughter was like sunshine that gilded all the darkness with delight, and he wished to hear it as often as possible before they parted.
: : :
The journey south across the moors was far from easy: there was no road, and the party often found itself having to backtrack away from some impassible bluff. The weather was generally foul--cloudy days were the best they encountered, and cold drizzle was more standard. One day they even had sleet pelting off their cloaks. But no matter how miserable their surroundings were, somehow the group's spirits stayed high, and laughter and song seemed easy to come by. Bilbo wondered if perhaps Gandalf might have made the difference--had the wizard cast some charm to keep everyone's mood buoyant? But then, not being hunted by orcs would probably be enough to improve anyone's mood, he reflected as he stirred a bubbling pot of pheasant stew with just a bit of ale added for flavor. He hummed under his breath to himself, turning over possible endings for "The Man in the Moon Came Down Too Soon" and enjoying the fact that it wasn't currently raining or sleeting.
"{ Ready-to-be-eaten food!}" he called out in Khuzdul to where Fíli and Kíli were sparring.
Thorin's head came up as Fíli and Kíli dropped their weapons and scrambled, and he frowned at Bilbo.
"I'm sorry," Bilbo said, "But Gandalf is scouting ahead a little, so I thought it would be safe to use Khuzdul a bit. I know I'm not supposed to use it in front of outsiders, I assumed that was why you'd stopped teaching me. But I don't want to get rusty."
Thorin opened his mouth, then closed it again.
"Oh, Gandalf is no outsider," said Balin as he held out his bowl for Bilbo to fill. "He is not always welcome, but he is never truly a stranger to any of the peoples of Middle Earth. He speaks Khuzdul as well as I do."
"I thought I was the only honorary dwarf," Bilbo said.
"Tharkûn is not an honorary anything," said Balin. "He is a wizard, and no dwarf ever taught him Khuzdul."
Bilbo glared at Thorin. "So you could have been teaching me more Khuzdul for the last week? Am I such a bad student? Did you grow tired of teaching me? Was it because I was having a hard time mastering the ablative case?"
Thorin put down his bowl with a thump. "If you'd stop peppering me with questions so a decent dwarf can hardly get a word in edgewise--" He broke off when he realized Bilbo had stopped speaking and was looking at him, and picked up again with notably less heat: "If you wish to learn a little more Khuzdul, I am happy to teach you. You are...a good student." Bilbo couldn't help grinning, and Thorin looked away from his face and cleared his throat. "Even if you are hopeless with the ablative case."
"Why would you need an entire way of expression to talk about motion away from something, it's absurd," Bilbo groused. "Can't we skip it and try something else?"
"No short cuts," Thorin said sternly. "Let's try it again from the beginning and make sure you remember the meagre progress you had managed."
"Balin, how do you say 'This dwarf is not an encouraging teacher' in Khuzdul? I want to memorize it."
Thorin huffed. "I shall teach you 'This hobbit is an ungrateful student' first, it is far more appropriate."
Gandalf the Grey, returning from a quick check of the terrain ahead, heard them arguing from far away, their words nearly drowned out by laughter from the rest of the party. He stopped for a moment to enjoy the sound, shaking his head, and then strode from the darkness toward the circle of homey light illuminating the moors.
: : :
"We should reach Rivendell by evening," Gandalf said a few days later as they mounted their ponies in a rare sunny morning, everything edged with hoarfrost.
Thorin nodded, ignoring the way his heart seemed to falter and fall at the news. He should be delighted to reach Rivendell, where perhaps more answers could be found; delighted to be one step closer to Erebor.
He should not feel that Gandalf's words robbed the very air of brightness.
They rode in silence for a time, Thorin picking at his pain like a ragged scar. Finally he decided that the best way to deal with it was to at last address it directly. Tear it off and let it start to heal, he thought, although he had alarming doubts the metaphor would hold.
"I'm certain Bilbo will find the passage back from Rivendell to the Shire easy," he announced. "Gandalf has promised me that he will ask Elrond to provide an escort back West."
Beside him, Balin sighed heavily, and Kíli and Fíli shared a miserable look, but no one protested. That the parting was inevitable had been clear to all of them, after all.
Thorin cleared his throat. "I know my regrets mean nothing, Bilbo, but allow me to assure you that I do indeed regret the necessity of forcing you to come so far from your home. You shall, of course, be well-rewarded for your hardships, and shall always carry the gratitude of Erebor with you--"
"Well," snorted Bilbo from behind him, indignantly. "If that doesn't just beat all."
Thorin turned to look back at Bilbo, who was glaring at him. "What?" His voice sounded stupid in his own ears.
"Typical high-handed, arrogant dwarf," Bilbo said. "Making decisions for everyone without even checking with them, as if you know what's best for everyone in Middle Earth. Well let me tell you, your majesty, not everyone likes having it just announced what they're going to do all the time. Some of us like to make our own choices." He flicked the reins and his pony tossed her head and picked up the pace until he rode abreast of Thorin.
"And...and your choice is?" Now his voice sounded stupidly hopeful, which was worse.
Bilbo looked straight ahead, his chin lifted. "Well, I thought that since I've come so far already, I should probably see it through," he said. "I mean, it would be a shame if I didn't find out what that bauble did for your grandfather, wouldn't it? After I found it for you and all." He flicked a quick glance at Thorin. "You haven't forgotten I was the one who found it, have you?"
"I...have not," Thorin said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Fíli grinning like an idiot and resisted the urge to throw something at him.
"Then I should hope you would understand that you are in my debt, and it would be rude of you to ship me off like so much unwanted luggage."
"You are not--luggage," Thorin said.
"Indeed!" said Bilbo. "I ask you to keep that in mind and not attempt to send me packing again."
"He won't," said Balin, and was echoed by the other dwarves.
"I'd like to hear it from Thorin," said Bilbo. "In fact, I would like a formal promise from him on the matter."
Thorin glowered at him, but the hobbit still wasn't looking at him. He harrumphed, then said, "I swear to you on my sword and on my honor, Bilbo Baggins, that I will not send you home again. Unless you wish it," he added carefully.
Bilbo looked him in the eyes then, and smiled. "I don't think I will," he said.
Everyone was smiling, Thorin noticed with annoyance. The hobbit, his nephews, Balin and Dwalin, even that infernal wizard.
In fact, he realized, he was too: smiling as if happiness had pierced his heart like a golden spear.
Relationship: Thorin/Bilbo
Characters: Bilbo Baggins, Fíli, Kíli, Thorin, Dwalin, Balin, Gandalf
Fandom: Hobbit
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Rating: G
Word Count: 1900
Story Summary: In a Middle-Earth where Erebor never fell, a shadow remains in the heart of the Lonely Mountain. Bilbo Baggins finds himself drawn reluctantly into a quest that will lead him across the continent--from Bree to Lake Evendim to the icy North and beyond--with a party of five dwarves searching for an artifact that will cure the ailing King Thrór.
Chapter Summary: The party leaves to travel south to Rivendell and somehow finds the road pleasant despite the weather.
"Farewell, dwarves! Farewell, Bilbo!" From a high promontory, Stefa waved goodbye as the party rode south beyond the boundaries of the Rangers' territory. "Farewell, Kíli! Farewell, Fíli!" She blew two kisses toward them, and Fíli blushed brilliant scarlet.
Thorin frowned at his nephew. "I hope you haven't left a broken heart behind you," he growled.
"Quite the opposite," chortled Kíli. "I believe he carries it with him." Fíli lobbed an apple at him and hit him in the head. "Ow!"
"Here now," said Bilbo, "Don't be wasting those apples. I was hoping to roast some with a little cinnamon tonight."
Fíli and Kíli apologized profusely for their bad manners. "Tell us more," said Kíli, rubbing his hands gleefully. "What did the Rangers give you for provisions?"
"Well," Bilbo said, "They gave us some lovely lamb sausages and I think I can make some fennel sauce to go with them."
Kíli and Fíli sighed with anticipation and Dwalin groaned out loud. "You torment us, Bilbo," he rumbled. "Can we not ride faster and camp earlier, Thorin?"
"We keep to the pace we decided," Thorin said.
"And Stefa slipped me a little vial of truffle oil," Bilbo added. "If we can find some wild carrots, that should be quite nice."
Thorin's stomach rumbled; he tightened his jaw and looked straight ahead, hoping no one had heard it. "Perhaps it cannot hurt to pick up the pace just a little," he said.
At his right side, Gandalf cast him an amused look. Thorin gave him a glare back. There may be no way across the mountains without Gandalf's help, but that did not mean he had to like it.
There was a humming sound behind him, and Thorin turned to see Bilbo absent-mindedly humming under his breath, almost smiling. When he saw Thorin looking at him, he ducked his head and looked away, the tune faltering.
"What is that song?" Thorin asked.
"Oh, just a little something I'm working on," Bilbo said. "A nonsense ditty to pass the time. I think I'll call it 'The Man in the Moon Came Down Too Soon.'"
"A rather unwieldy title," said Thorin, and Bilbo laughed.
"For a rather unwieldy song, I'm afraid! I cannot get the third verse to scan at all."
"Sing it for us, won't you?" coaxed Fíli.
"Maybe we can help!" added Kíli.
Bilbo looked torn between embarrassment and pride. "Well, here is what I have so far," he said. He took a quick breath and began to sing:
"There is an inn, a merry old inn
beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
One night to drink his fill..."
His clear light voice lifted against the craggy darkness of the Ettenmoors and seemed to change the very mood of the place from glowering to laughing. Soon all of the party were suggesting rhymes and turns to the story: Kíli came up with a tipsy cat and fiddle--"Like the ones Fíli and I play!"--and Balin added some silver spoons. Dwalin suggested a cow, and even Gandalf was nodding his head to the rhythm of the song, smiling.
Thorin watched Bilbo Baggins smile and sing and wondered what had happened to change his mood. Perhaps he was looking forward to seeing the elves of Rivendell. More likely it was the knowledge that there he would find safety and passage home to the Shire, that he could refuse to travel any further with this company of mad dwarves.
Thorin found he did not truly care what the reason was, for Bilbo's laughter was like sunshine that gilded all the darkness with delight, and he wished to hear it as often as possible before they parted.
: : :
The journey south across the moors was far from easy: there was no road, and the party often found itself having to backtrack away from some impassible bluff. The weather was generally foul--cloudy days were the best they encountered, and cold drizzle was more standard. One day they even had sleet pelting off their cloaks. But no matter how miserable their surroundings were, somehow the group's spirits stayed high, and laughter and song seemed easy to come by. Bilbo wondered if perhaps Gandalf might have made the difference--had the wizard cast some charm to keep everyone's mood buoyant? But then, not being hunted by orcs would probably be enough to improve anyone's mood, he reflected as he stirred a bubbling pot of pheasant stew with just a bit of ale added for flavor. He hummed under his breath to himself, turning over possible endings for "The Man in the Moon Came Down Too Soon" and enjoying the fact that it wasn't currently raining or sleeting.
"{ Ready-to-be-eaten food!}" he called out in Khuzdul to where Fíli and Kíli were sparring.
Thorin's head came up as Fíli and Kíli dropped their weapons and scrambled, and he frowned at Bilbo.
"I'm sorry," Bilbo said, "But Gandalf is scouting ahead a little, so I thought it would be safe to use Khuzdul a bit. I know I'm not supposed to use it in front of outsiders, I assumed that was why you'd stopped teaching me. But I don't want to get rusty."
Thorin opened his mouth, then closed it again.
"Oh, Gandalf is no outsider," said Balin as he held out his bowl for Bilbo to fill. "He is not always welcome, but he is never truly a stranger to any of the peoples of Middle Earth. He speaks Khuzdul as well as I do."
"I thought I was the only honorary dwarf," Bilbo said.
"Tharkûn is not an honorary anything," said Balin. "He is a wizard, and no dwarf ever taught him Khuzdul."
Bilbo glared at Thorin. "So you could have been teaching me more Khuzdul for the last week? Am I such a bad student? Did you grow tired of teaching me? Was it because I was having a hard time mastering the ablative case?"
Thorin put down his bowl with a thump. "If you'd stop peppering me with questions so a decent dwarf can hardly get a word in edgewise--" He broke off when he realized Bilbo had stopped speaking and was looking at him, and picked up again with notably less heat: "If you wish to learn a little more Khuzdul, I am happy to teach you. You are...a good student." Bilbo couldn't help grinning, and Thorin looked away from his face and cleared his throat. "Even if you are hopeless with the ablative case."
"Why would you need an entire way of expression to talk about motion away from something, it's absurd," Bilbo groused. "Can't we skip it and try something else?"
"No short cuts," Thorin said sternly. "Let's try it again from the beginning and make sure you remember the meagre progress you had managed."
"Balin, how do you say 'This dwarf is not an encouraging teacher' in Khuzdul? I want to memorize it."
Thorin huffed. "I shall teach you 'This hobbit is an ungrateful student' first, it is far more appropriate."
Gandalf the Grey, returning from a quick check of the terrain ahead, heard them arguing from far away, their words nearly drowned out by laughter from the rest of the party. He stopped for a moment to enjoy the sound, shaking his head, and then strode from the darkness toward the circle of homey light illuminating the moors.
: : :
"We should reach Rivendell by evening," Gandalf said a few days later as they mounted their ponies in a rare sunny morning, everything edged with hoarfrost.
Thorin nodded, ignoring the way his heart seemed to falter and fall at the news. He should be delighted to reach Rivendell, where perhaps more answers could be found; delighted to be one step closer to Erebor.
He should not feel that Gandalf's words robbed the very air of brightness.
They rode in silence for a time, Thorin picking at his pain like a ragged scar. Finally he decided that the best way to deal with it was to at last address it directly. Tear it off and let it start to heal, he thought, although he had alarming doubts the metaphor would hold.
"I'm certain Bilbo will find the passage back from Rivendell to the Shire easy," he announced. "Gandalf has promised me that he will ask Elrond to provide an escort back West."
Beside him, Balin sighed heavily, and Kíli and Fíli shared a miserable look, but no one protested. That the parting was inevitable had been clear to all of them, after all.
Thorin cleared his throat. "I know my regrets mean nothing, Bilbo, but allow me to assure you that I do indeed regret the necessity of forcing you to come so far from your home. You shall, of course, be well-rewarded for your hardships, and shall always carry the gratitude of Erebor with you--"
"Well," snorted Bilbo from behind him, indignantly. "If that doesn't just beat all."
Thorin turned to look back at Bilbo, who was glaring at him. "What?" His voice sounded stupid in his own ears.
"Typical high-handed, arrogant dwarf," Bilbo said. "Making decisions for everyone without even checking with them, as if you know what's best for everyone in Middle Earth. Well let me tell you, your majesty, not everyone likes having it just announced what they're going to do all the time. Some of us like to make our own choices." He flicked the reins and his pony tossed her head and picked up the pace until he rode abreast of Thorin.
"And...and your choice is?" Now his voice sounded stupidly hopeful, which was worse.
Bilbo looked straight ahead, his chin lifted. "Well, I thought that since I've come so far already, I should probably see it through," he said. "I mean, it would be a shame if I didn't find out what that bauble did for your grandfather, wouldn't it? After I found it for you and all." He flicked a quick glance at Thorin. "You haven't forgotten I was the one who found it, have you?"
"I...have not," Thorin said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Fíli grinning like an idiot and resisted the urge to throw something at him.
"Then I should hope you would understand that you are in my debt, and it would be rude of you to ship me off like so much unwanted luggage."
"You are not--luggage," Thorin said.
"Indeed!" said Bilbo. "I ask you to keep that in mind and not attempt to send me packing again."
"He won't," said Balin, and was echoed by the other dwarves.
"I'd like to hear it from Thorin," said Bilbo. "In fact, I would like a formal promise from him on the matter."
Thorin glowered at him, but the hobbit still wasn't looking at him. He harrumphed, then said, "I swear to you on my sword and on my honor, Bilbo Baggins, that I will not send you home again. Unless you wish it," he added carefully.
Bilbo looked him in the eyes then, and smiled. "I don't think I will," he said.
Everyone was smiling, Thorin noticed with annoyance. The hobbit, his nephews, Balin and Dwalin, even that infernal wizard.
In fact, he realized, he was too: smiling as if happiness had pierced his heart like a golden spear.