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A Cursed Blessing

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A Cursed Blessing by TheDarkFallingStar

Title: A Cursed Blessing
Pairing: Bilbo/Thorin

Summary: In time of great change a Prophet is born, selected by one of the Valar. When Bilbo is born, he had the markings of the Prophet but it was not One of the Valar that had chosen him, it was all.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing the characters of Tolkien; I do not own them unfortunately…

Author Note: I'm not sure how this will turn out, but the plot has been heavy on my mind and the length of chapters can range from 1000 words or over 2000 depending if my muse allows me.


In times of great change a prophet of the Valar would be chosen, but none had been born with the markings since the battle of the Last Alliance and he had died in the battle saving his King. All races had begun to lose hope that the Valar had forsaken them and soon some races had all but forgotten the legends of the Prophets. But the Elves and the Dwarrow did not forget, they still held hope for their saviour to come.

There had been a Prophet of near all races, a soul bound to not one race. Men, Elves and Dwarrow the like, blessed by their creator or another.

There was Durin the Deathless, the great warrior marked by Aulë. Thengyril the elf maiden who had been born in the first age to the lands of Beleriand that were Nath-Tathren during the Great War, she had been the prophet of Irmo. It was many years after Durin's death that Rahim had been born a Man with the blessing of Nienna the Lady of Mercy, he fell protecting Isildur his king and friend.

All hope from the world was taken as disaster and misfortune hit the lands once more. The Dwarrow's were cast out from their home by a fire drake, their numbers decimated at the battle of Azanulbizar.

Then one spring afternoon a ripple was felt across Arda. A Prophet had been born, one of great power. A babe, a small babe with gold hair was born to Belladonna and Bungo Baggins of Bag End. His eyes were the richest green with flecks of brown and gold, a smile so bright that it made all those around him feel whole.

But it was the markings upon the wrist that stood out the most, little symbols that Belladonna had seen before – though only three of the fourteen – that made the truth known. Her little Bilbo, her brightest star was a Prophet marked by all the valar.


Bilbo had led a simple yet extraordinary life, well protected by his Mother. Though his mother of flesh raised him and loved him, it was his Mother of spirit that had taught him and guided him through life.

It was Yavanna who taught him how to use his skills, which marks on his arm were from who and how to use and connect to them. He was special, that was what everyone whispered to him and it was what he had hated the most.

Prophet some called him, a Prophet of Arda, the rarest of all that had been born as he had been marked by all the Valar.

A Tree for Yavanna Giver of Fruits that was interwoven with a Hammer, the representation of her Husband Aulë.

Varda was next with her Stars that swirled around with soft lines that were of Feathers for her Husband Manwë.

Nienna sat alone with a single teardrop, beside her tear rested what Bilbo saw was a gavel for Mandos Ruler of the Dead that interwove with three strings that represented his wife Vairë the Weaver. Their brother Irmo's mark was hard to read, a flower mid-bloom and stood alone with no sign of Este.

"It is the sign of both Irmo and Este my little one, for Este is the Vala who is responsible for healing of the hurt and weary. A flower mid-bloom represents Irmo and his wife. The representation of Dreams and Healing." That is what Yavanna had told him when he had inquired.

With a deep sigh, Bilbo ran his thumb over the bird mid-flight carrying a horn, Vána his Mother's sister and her Husband Oromë's mark. Below that was a deer – golden in colour against his sun kissed skin that represented her Husband Tulkas – jumping over the soft waves of Ulmo's mark.

The marks though separate and interweaved with those of their spouse connected to the spot in the middle of his wrist at the base of his palm by the mark that seemed to shimmer. It was the mark of Eru The One, The Father of All.

Yet, no matter how special everyone said he was — to him it was a burden. A curse. He felt strongly and saw things he did not wish to see, he craved the skies and all things that glittered and grew. He felt the call of war and felt the death around him all the while struggling with grief he felt.

No, being a Prophet of Arda was not what all was made to be. Not even when his own kin and parents were in trouble, he could not use the powers he possessed to save them and in the end Mandos had claimed them.

If it wasn't because of him in the first place they would still be living, his status had brought forth the orcs and wargs on top of the wolves that harsh winter. Though no one blamed him, he blamed himself enough.

"Why are you weary my sweet one?" Yavanna asked softly as she took her place at his side.

Bilbo sighed and lit his pipe, his eyes closed as he tilted his face towards the sun. "I don't know, I guess I am feeling melancholic. There is a great shift in the air tonight, something that tells me that everything is about to change."

Yavanna hummed softly and turned her eyes out over Hobbiton with thought. Some days even she had felt grief and guilt for being a part of Bilbo's creation. But Eru had seen the future and had seen what would happen if a prophet would not be created. It was he who had asked for them all to place their mark as the road before the prophet would be a hard one.

She had stood by his side some days with Nienna and wept alongside her child. He had faced so much already because of them, so much grief.

Bilbo let out another sigh, drawing Yavanna's attention once more to the Istari before her with surprise. "Goodmorning." He greets, blowing a smoke ring into the air, watching as it shifted into a moth and flew back.

The wizard grins, more of a smirk really as his eyes danced with mirth. "What do you mean? Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or, perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning. Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?"

"Can I help you?" Bilbo asked blandly ignoring the question all the while eyeing the grey wizard before him. He of course knew who Gandalf was, being a friend of his mothers and the Maiar of Manwë, Varda, Irmo and Nienna who had favoured him the most.

"That remains to be seen, I am looking for someone to share an adventure." The wizard replied with bright eyes. This of course just made Bilbo sit up straighter and narrow his eyes down at the Wizard; he could see his Mother stiffen too at his side from the corner of his eye.

Bilbo snapped his mouth shut as he saw his fate. The first of Gandalf's company would be at his door around nightfall whether he wished for it or not. It seems that he has been called and his time has finally come. "Do not take me for a fool Olórin; I know why you have come. Tell me how many I am expected to house and feed before making your merry way down to tell them."

This took Gandalf by surprise, both at being caught out and hearing his name fall from the hobbits lips. "Thirteen in total beside myself."

The Prophet stood from his little seat and nodded, he had a feast to make and so little time to do so. He would need to run to the market to gather more food, meat more so than vegetables or he could get Hamfast and Hamson to do so for him while he started. "Then you best be on your way. Oh and Gandalf?"

The wizard stopped and turned back to the hobbit at the door with raised brows. "Yes my boy?"

"You better give the leader the correct Map to my home or make him come with another, he'll get lost… twice." With that, Bilbo closed the door and stared into the sad eyes of his Mother.

"Your time has come then my little one. I knew it was to be soon but…" She trailed off, taking a deep breath as she pulled him tightly into her embrace.

"I know Mother." He whispered into her neck. After all, a prophet was cursed to die in the end.

Author Note: Well, like I said in the AN at the top the length will grow but I can always promise a chapter over a thousand words.

Chapter Text

Title: A Cursed Blessing
Pairing: Bilbo/Thorin

Summary: In time of great change a Prophet is born, selected by one of the Valar. When Bilbo is born, he had the markings of the Prophet but it was not One of the Valar that had chosen him, it was all.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing the characters of Tolkien; I do not own them unfortunately…

Author Note: I'm not sure how this will turn out, but the plot has been heavy on my mind and the length of chapters can range from 1000 words or over 2000 depending if my muse allows me.


He didn't know how long he stood in his Mother's embrace before sighing and decided to get to work. He had many things to do and a company to prepare food for as well as hiding all things breakable. He knew what dwarves were like, knew that they were a merry bunch that liked to cause chaos in their wake.

"I better hide my mother's china and silver." He informed his Mother with a snort. "We know Aulë's children are a merry bunch and have no thought for heirlooms. I will also need to write my Will and letters for the Thain. I refuse to let the Sackville- Baggins's take my home and sell my things."

Yavanna laughed as she watched her child begin to move things and place them in the chest in the office. "Yes, my husband's children are much like you. They love their spirits and food, music too. Any chance for a party really, I am glad you are willing to join them, they have had much hardship."

Bilbo turned at the sadness in his Mother's voice. "Yes, I know Aulë told me. He regrets that he could not help them; it pains him to see his people suffer the loss of their home and pride. For him I will do this, for them too. I will make them feel comfortable here in my home and welcomed, respected. It is the least I can do for their weary souls."

"You have a good heart my little sweet. But don't let them walk all over you now, you are my creation and we take no nonsense by Dwarrow!" Yavanna explained with a wide smile and a hearty laugh.

"Would you like to help me cook for them then? It may ease your worries too Mother, I know you worry for the children of your heart as well." Bilbo offered as he opened up the window facing the Gamgee's smial. "HAMFAST!"

"I would love to; sometimes I think we made you too smart." She chuckled as she made her way to the kitchen.

While his Mother was in the kitchen he waited for Hamfast. He knew his eldest friend heard him, he usually called for his Gardner in the most oddest of fashions, this time it happened to be out the window instead of the fence. All too soon his friend was at the window a grin on his usual cheery face.

"Wha' can I help you with Master Bilbo?" Hamfast asked while placing his gardening gloves in his back pocket.

"I'll be going on ad adventure Hamfast, I've been called." At this Bilbo saw the startling realisation in his friends face. "I will be feeding and housing the company I am to travel with, but their kind isn't fond of vegetables. Would you or Hamson be able to go to the market and bring back some more meat for me? Roasts and chickens, a duck or two and fish?"

"Why o'corse I'll go Mister Bilbo, Hamson will come with. Is that all you need?" Hamfast asked with a wide smile though Bilbo could still see the worry in his old friend's eyes.

"If you can get me some previsions too that would be splendid my old friend, in return I'll let you have whatever you like from the garden!" He explained knowing that if he offered money to his friend it wouldn't be accepted.

"Oh that's a fine offer Mister Bilbo, but I…" Hamfast seemed to stop mid-sentence and Bilbo knew that he was thinking of it. "Bell is expectin' another wee one, if I can pluck some'er those squash she loves and craves that I'll accept."

Bilbo chuckled and clapped his friend on his back. "Congratulations Hamfast, they'll be a healthy faunt. Maybe take some strawberries too yes?"

"Is that all Bilbo?" Hamfast asked giving his friend a wide smile. He was grateful that his friend told him that their faunt would be healthy, he also knew to take whatever Bilbo offered or hinted at when it came to his wife's cravings. They learnt the hard way – well he learnt the hard way when Bell carried Halfred and Daisy. She craved squash and blueberries and Bilbo had warned him.

"Yes, here take this it should be enough." Bilbo stated while handing him a soft velvet pouch of coins before cocking his head to the side. "Hamfast, you'll need to get some soft green material, you'll know it when you see it and I promise you, you'll be a very well fed hobbit if you give it to Bell."

Hamfast laughed and bid farewell to Bilbo while calling his son to come help him, his friends' words echoing in his head.


The sound of cooking food and Yavanna's humming had Bilbo in a state of calm, it was a comfort. He hoped that the Dwarrow liked all the effort they went to put together this feast. There was roast lamb and beef, both roast and stew, peaking duck. Potato's and Garlic Potato's, three sides of cheesy vegetables that he would think that the Dwarrow would appreciate. Five different types of bread, two types of fish meals; three chicken meals and every counter were full of food, near groaning with the weight.

The desserts though filled up his kitchen counters, pies, scones, tarts, biscuits and sweet bread with jams.

"I'm going to go get cleaned and dressed." He informed his Mother while hanging up his apron on the hook by the door.

"You have some time yet; the first Dwarrow has just reached the boarders of Hobbiton." Yavanna explained as she pulled out the last blackberry pie.

Bilbo hummed in answer as he began to strip of his clothing and getting the bath ready, he had little time and he just merely wanted to wash the flower and food from his hands and the grime from his body. He hummed and sighed as his hands passed over his soaps and oils to the scentless one as he saw that he would be teased for smelling like flowers.

With a quick scrub of his hair and skin, Bilbo quickly dried himself and paused, his arm tingling slightly. A frown pulled at his brows before sighing softly as he saw the faint shimmer to UImo's mark.

Wonderful, it's going to rain… and rain a lot but my estimation.

Reading the marks were sometimes hard to do, but after many years he was able to tell how long it was going to rain or when the earth was ready to be turned for a fresh harvest, so on so forth. With a shrug Bilbo began to pull on his clothing once more before stilling his fingers at the touch of soft warm leather. His vambraces' — the ones that were made by his mother's ranger friend to hide his marks — were a soft leather and glove that was buttoned on the forearm and could be buckled. He had loved them dearly and wore them when he went to Bree or outside of the Shire in some cases.

A loud knock echoed the smial and Bilbo knew instantly it was the first of his guests, her could hear their grunts the second he stepped through his gate and could feel him and his steps since he reached the shire. There was no missing the vibrating thrum of Aulë's children.

The second he opened the door Bilbo had to restrain himself from raising his brows and smirking as he saw the foot taller dwarf before him, his massive frame bulging with muscle that was natural for Dwarrow and two War Hammers strapped to his back with an axe at his hip and covered in tattoos.

"Dwalin, at your service." The dwarf before him bowed, never taking his eyes off of him.

"Do not take offence my little sweet, he does not trust you yet." Yavanna warned as she saw her child stiffen at the offence and smiled as he relaxed instantly and bowed in return.

"Bilbo, at yours and your families. Please wipe your feet and hang your cloak there on the hook, also if you would be kind enough to remove the bulk of your weapons, mainly your War Hammers that would be appreciated, the knives you have you can keep on you." Bilbo explained, gesturing to the two blades at Dwalin's hips. He knew better than to ask a dwarf to remove every weapon or armour, he also wanted to see if the Dwarrow that came trusted him enough to remove their bulk weapons.

"The food smells good." Dwalin grunted out as he rested his hammers at the space the Halfling gestured and hung up his cloak. He still wasn't sure of what to make of the hobbit but he could see that the lad had a spine of steel, not many didn't flinch at first glance of him or speak to him with ease.

So far the hobbit had shown him respect and not thrown him from his home or slammed the door in the face. But it was odd for the hobbit to know not to ask him to remove his armour and weapons, he'd just have to wait and see how he was with the others of the company and then Dwalin would make a judgment if the hobbit was suitable or not.


Author Note: Well look Dwalin! So glad everyone is enjoying this! Next is all the company and Thorin!

Chapter Text

Title: A Cursed Blessing
Pairing: Bilbo/Thorin

Summary: In time of great change a Prophet is born, selected by one of the Valar. When Bilbo is born, he had the markings of the Prophet but it was not One of the Valar that had chosen him, it was all.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing the characters of Tolkien; I do not own them unfortunately…

Author Note: Bold Italic is Khuzdul, Italic is Sindarin, Bold is Black speech and anything between }…{ is Green Tongue.


He was furious, flustered and well beyond furious. The Dwarrow had come but only so far the two to arrive first, the star haired and his brothers along with the one with the axe in his head, had done as he asked.

The rest… tracked mud through his home, scratched the carvings in the door from their weapons and nearly knocked over a few breakable things and were now devouring his food and throwing it. A soft whine escaped his lips as mashed potato splattered the walls beside him, Yavanna as he could see was a mix between furious and amused as well as she watched.

"Are you alright Mister Boggins?" One of the youngest asked, Kíli.

Dear Aulë, control your children and give me strength. He prayed silently before shaking his head sharply to the one that had scraped his boots on his mother's glory box, the thing Old Took had made for her on the day of her birth.

"Excuse me." He muttered to the youngest before slipping from the room and into the kitchen, the counters now full were bare and the pantry pillaged for any morsel of food as if Bilbo didn't cook them enough. That was another that had bothered him, the food leftover was to be his own dinner and the others had taken it.

"Gandalf." Bilbo muttered, turning around glaring at the wizard. "This is your fault. I offered them food and they take what was to be my own dinner."

"Bilbo it's a merry gathering, they haven't seen…" Gandalf tried to start before snapping his mouth shut at the intensive glare.

"No Gandalf! I made them food, fed them out of my own pocket and asked them to do three simple things. I am hungry just as much as they; I have not eaten since lunch and have skipped three meals already! Yet they waste my food by throwing it? I know what Dwarrow are like Gandalf and I know that this is beyond their normal but this is a grievous insult to throw food in ones halls not their own!" He hissed before sighing as he saw Ori and Bifur at the door, their eyes wide as they took in the empty pantry and kitchen.

Ori pulled his plate closer to him ashamed; he too had thrown food and though it got him yelled at by Dori and surprisingly Nori… "I'm sorry Master Baggins, I too was throwing the food around."

"It's alright Master Ori, you are young but the others know better. What can I help you with?" Bilbo asked suddenly tired, too tired to even care to be hungry. He relaxed even further when Mother began to run her fingers through his hair in a soothing motion.

"I wanted to know where I should put my plate." He whispered softly, looking down.

"Give it here Ori!" Fíli laughed as he danced into the room and threw it out of the slowly closing door to his brother. Bilbo felt his temper flare again but held his tongue, if he even remotely tried to stop them it would end up with three broken plates and a vase. Ori followed Fíli out with a worried look as the young golden haired prince grabbed another cup of ale.

"Sorry Master Baggins for this, I can rile Bofur in when he is sober and make him apologise." Bifur grunted out in ancient Khuzdul as he heard Bofur start up a drinking song only to widen his eyes in surprise as the hobbit waved him off as if he understood.

"Worry not Master Bifur, they'll be done soon. Just make sure they don't break any of my plates while I have a drink of ale." Bilbo muttered over his shoulder not realising he replied to the only Dwarrow in the company who couldn't speak Westron and revealed that he could understand said Khuzdul.

Three loud booming knocks echoed once the song had died down, it caused Bilbo to twitch as it revibrated through his house and the sudden silence caused his ears to ring loud enough to muffle Gandalf's whisper. He cast Yavanna a glance and made his way towards the door scowling when it was Gandalf who opened it.

"Oh my…" The stunned whisper of Yavanna had him looking at the newcomer and Bilbo had to force himself not to blink or blurt out his shock. For the dwarf before him was handsome and looked very much like Aulë himself.

There were differences, his eyes a shade darker than the maker, cheeks more defined and hair much darker than the Dwarrow's creator, but he had the same build, the wide broad shoulders and stance, the aura around him.

"Gandalf." Thorin greeted. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. Wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door."

Bilbo spluttered furious. "Gandalf!" He had just had his door painted and the wizard dared to mark his home, even though he knew they all had a map to his home.

"Now, now, Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield." The wizard introduced with a soft smug grin but it caused the indignation to bubble to his throat.

With a narrowed gaze Bilbo turned back to face the King-in-Exile once more, even now in the light of the candlelight, a soft fond smile on his face as he handed his cloak to the youngest of the Dwarrow that came together – Kíli – he looked handsome….

"So, this is the Hobbit."… till he opened his mouth that is. "Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?"

He bit his tongue and ignored the question as the dwarf king circled around him with a patronizing glare. "Pardon?" He managed to get out through gritted teeth and he could see the others shift nervously in the corner of his eye, some of them shaking their heads vigorously to their king.

"Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?" The condencending tone had his Mother hissing in fury her hand clutching his shoulder in her ire.

"Neither." He gritted out for it was true, he preferred the bow, his trident dagger and handheld bardiche, though the last could be classed as an axe.

The rude dwarf king before him snorts. "Thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar."

All eyes snapped to Bilbo as the smial shuddered around them in anger, the candles flickering their discontent as the hobbit seemed to stare down their king even though he was a foot shorter, barely reaching Thorin's shoulders.

"And you are far more arrogant than what is expected of a king." The words slipped out of Bilbo's mouth calmly, standing unflinchingly to the king. "I have fed your company though they bring insult to my hospitality by throwing it. Is it not expected of Dwarrow to not cause such mess when visiting anothers halls that they do not know? They also ate all the food from my pantry that was for myself to eat as I had not had a thing since lunch since I was busy making them a feast."

The silence was loud to Bilbo's ears and he could see – though their king growing red in his ire – the company look and shift in shame.

"I asked them to wipe their shoes at the door, hang the bulk of their weapons along the wall next to Master Dwalin's and Balin's yet they carry and toss them wherever they pleased and scratch what is left of my mother's memory." With this he gestured to her glory box at the door. "Then you come in and insult me, in my own home all the while at it."

Gandalf stammered and moved to the hobbits side. "Now Bilbo, be…"

"If you tell me to be calm when they have done all they can to insult me, while he insults me mere minutes he walked through my door, you will not be pleased." Bilbo hissed, turning his eyes up at the wizard in annoyance all the while trying to ignore the burns of his marks for Yavanna and Aulë. It seems Mother has gone to have a word with her husband and he too is not pleased.

"You dare speak to me this way!?" Thorin boomed, staring down at the Halfling.

Bilbo snapped his head towards the king once more and glared, causing some of the others to step back. Some have seen a hobbit before yes, but never have they ever seen one downright furious and it was a little unsettling to see a joyous creature as such.

"Yes, you are a rude arrogant dwarf and it brings shame upon who taught you manners. If I didn't know how long many of you have travelled then I would ask you all to leave." The last statement had the others widening their eyes in shock and Balin stared at his king with shame and disappointment. It was he who taught Thorin how to speak to dignitaries and to be polite to their hosts no matter how inconvenient or unwelcome.

The feelings also were one of surprise as well, he remembered how the hobbit had greeted him and how Dwalin explained that the small creature didn't even blink twice at him or his weapons, from the start Master Baggins had treated them like equals and in return they treated his hospitality poorly.

"… no Gandalf! This is my home and I will be dammed if I let arrogant people speak down to me. I do not let my own kin speak to me that way in my home much less someone who I yet to know. You are even lucky I allowed this, I knew saying no to you this morning that you would tell them to come anyway!" Bilbo hissed, snapping Balin from his thoughts.

"This morning? Laddie, when exactly did Gandalf tell you about our arrival?" Balin asked, causing the hobbit to turn towards him with a spark of fury and annoyance in his eyes. The others waited with baited breathes, trying not to shift under the furious creatures eyes, going so far – as for Fíli and Kíli – to hide behind Thorin and Dwalin.

"This morning." The noise of surprise was loud and all eyes – including the kings – turned towards the stammering wizard. "I have not seen him since I was a faunt more than twenty years ago and he comes waltzing up to me and asks me to go on an adventure, why?"

Balin twists his hands into the folds of his robe and flickers his eyes from Gandalf and back.

"He told us a week ago he found a bugler for us, one of the Shire Folk." Dwalin rumbled out shocking all who knew him. "Do not look at me that way Wizard, the lad deserved to know."

Bilbo whirled back around to the wizard and glared. "You and I will be having words later Gandalf. But for now arrogant King, you will need to eat and I need a strong drink or two." With that he pivoted on the ball of his foot and stormed off towards the kitchen, hopefully he still had some of Old Bolger's moonshine left.

It was going to be a long night, a very long night.


Author Note: Well here you go :P a different twist to the greeting. It always bothered me the scene, and the fact that the Company never knew when exactly that Gandalf had asked Bilbo. I should also mention that the others can not see the Valar, the only reason Bilbo can hear and see them is because he is marked by them. Gandalf could probably feel their power but unsure what it is and same with the elves beyond Galadriel, Elrond and Glorfindel.

Chapter Text

Title: A Cursed Blessing
Pairing: Bilbo/Thorin

Summary: In time of great change a Prophet is born, selected by one of the Valar. When Bilbo is born, he had the markings of the Prophet but it was not One of the Valar that had chosen him, it was all.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing the characters of Tolkien; I do not own them unfortunately…

Author Note: Bold Italic is Khuzdul, Italic is Sindarin, Bold is Black speech and anything between }…{ is Green Tongue.


It took a lot of patience for Bilbo to get through dinner with the Kin-in-Exiles rude manners and infuriating glares, of course his talk with Gandalf who was no longer welcome in his home and had to find a room somewhere else for the night after he dared to bring up his mother. It also took him soothing his Mother and his own frayed nerves when he read over the farce of a contract.

"Disputes arising between the Contract Parties shall be heard and judged by an arbitrator of the Company's choosing… and all pleas shall be pleaded, shrewed, defended, answered, debated and judged in the Dwarvish Tongue." He muttered to himself as he dipped the quill in the inkpot forcefully.

That was only one rule to many that had stoked his ire. Even if he understood their 'secret' language but the fact remains that too their knowledge, he did not, therefore it was unjust. It didn't even help that if he were to die or even sent back they would leave him buried poorly and or send him home with mere essentials and bare all necessities that could get him back. Essentially they promised him a fourteenth of gold he dared no to care for but in the same clause give him nothing if they so choose. So he would receive no help or coin to travel back home safely.

"Present Company is not obliged to assist Burglar in this so-called 'pest control' phase of the Adventure…" He muttered again as he wrote out his letter to the Thain. "Really, do they expect me to kill a dragon if he is alive?"

"I do believe that is what they mean my little sweet." The sharpness in his Mother's voice of course made him smile. He knew that everyone thought that Yavanna was a loving Mother and too shared the temperament of a typical hobbit.

That may be so but she was also the wife of Aulë, the maker of dwarves and she was also a warrior though kind natured she may be. Bilbo often fancies her to the likes of a bear mother, or any mother, kind and nurturing until you attack their cubs and then it be best fit to run.

"Mister Baggins?" The voice of Balin had him look up from his letter and scowl. Not at Balin, oh no, at the king beside him who was glaring harshly in return. He did not say a word but held out his hand for the newly corrected contract and began to read it over.

"Disputes arising between the Contract Parties shall be heard and judged by an arbitrator of the Company's choosing… and all pleas shall be pleaded, shrewed, defended, answered, debated and judged in Common with a chosen translator of choosing from the burglar and the company." He read and nodded before looking at the others with a soft hum, at least now he no longer had to be referred to as burglar or halfling. Yavanna too read the contract over his shoulder and brushed his hair soothingly whether it to sooth he or her he didn't know.

"There is one thing I wish to add to the contract?" He asked, ignoring the king and locking eyes on to Balin. "It benefits us both and you left it out."

"And what exactly did we leave out that would benefit both?" The king asked darkly and though Bilbo thought him handsome, his rudeness was a complete put off.

"That we add a clause that what we learn about each culture will not be repeated or spoken of once the quest is completed. Hobbits too are a secretive race and we like to keep it that way with our own tongue and whatnot." He supplied, smirking as the three Dwarrow before him raised their brows in surprise. "So the clause would protect my traditions and secrets along with yours, is that agreeable?"

"Aye laddie, that is agreeable. Thank you for considering it as I did not." Balin informed quickly as he saw his king open his mouth to respond. When Balin had written the new clause he and Thorin both signed it with a flourish and Bilbo did without hesitation this time.

"What are you writing?" Ori asked before blushing up a storm.

Bilbo chuckled; he quite liked the quiet timid like scribe. "Letters to the Thain and my kin, letting him and they know that Hamfast will be collecting rent from my tenants and looking after my home. I am also rewriting my Will so my cousin won't try and declare me dead to get her grubby little paws on my home, also transferring my position to my cousin Drogo while I am gone." He explained before signing the letter to the Thain containing his wishes and Will with a flourish.

His eyes flashed up to the Dwarrow before him and for a change Thorin was not glaring at him, but staring at him in confusion. "What do you mean position?"

"Well I'm the head of my family, um, clan as you can put it. I sit in and listen to the family disputes and manage the welfare of countless of others. I own the hill and the surrounding lands around it bar a smial or two, so I manage the crops and the rent that they tend to. I also own a small portion of the Longbottom Leaf and the one who deals with the big folk for trade." Bilbo explained with a shrug before sealing the envelope and getting to his feet, completely ignoring the flabbergasted looks from the Dwarrow.

"Well gentlemen, if you will follow me I'll show you and everyone their rooms, some would have to double up but I can see by the familial traits that, that won't be a problem." He hummed out while gesturing for them to follow.

Ori leant closer to Balin and whispered. "Does this mean Master Baggins is a Baron?"

Balin merely cast his apprentice a long look.


The next morning Bilbo rose early, his bag packed with all that he would need on the road and thankfully he kept all his mother's travelling gear as her bag would be needed, along with her sleeping mat and raincoat. But beside that he had thicker trousers and shirts, warmer waistcoats and a proper jacket with plenty of hidden pocket spaces for knickknacks, food and coin.

"Oh, I didn't know anyone else was up." Bilbo blurted out in surprise to Bifur.

Bifur narrowed his eyes slightly at the hobbit. "I do not sleep much because of my injury."

"Oh, does it bother you much?" Bilbo asked as he began to gather the food from his second pantry for the others. He shoved quite a bit into his back and extra bag for himself as he saw that he would be reduced to three meals a day from this day forth.

"How can you understand me? I am speaking the old tongue." Bifur asked and watched as the hobbit clammed up. His slouched form went ramrod straight as quick as cooled metal before slouching in defeat.

"Fool of a Took!" Bilbo cursed himself, shooting his Mother a glare as she giggled. With a deep sigh he turned around and Looked at the being before him, he needed to see if he could trust the Dwarrow or not and from what he was seeing, he could very much so. With a sharp nod he moved towards the dwarf all the while unclasping his bracer.

"If I tell you, will you swear on your beard and honour of you, and your kin, not to breathe a word to anyone?" He asked seriously and waited for the nod of confirmation.

Bifur squinted as the hobbit removed the well-made but obviously man-made vambrace and held out his arm for him to see. Bifur couldn't quite tell what exactly the kind hobbit was seeing until he looked lower down and blinked.

Fourteen marks rested on the hobbits wrist, many of them he had seen before but couldn't recall but he knew the hammer at the top anywhere, it was the marker for their maker Mahal.

"I am the Prophet." Bilbo murmured softly as he watched Bifur trail his finger softly over the marks. "Chosen by the Valar, I do not want the others to know but I trust you and have seen I can trust you."

"Then I will not do something to lose that trust. Not many speak to me like you do, they see my injury and my… my… speech a sign that I have lost all that I used to be. Dimwitted, cloudyheaded. I cannot speak Common anymore or the current Khuzdul but I understand. It is nice to know that someone can understand me fully, even my cousins cannot understand all the words I speak." Bifur explained, a deep frown pulling at both his and Bilbo's brows.

"Well when we are alone, I will gladly speak with you Bifur. I'd do it all the time but I'm not supposed to know Khuzdul." Bilbo explained with a chuckle. "Would you like to accompany me this morning while everyone wakes? I'd make breakfast but I know Thorin wished to leave at first light and I have letters to give out."

"I will be glad to join you." The joy was easily heard in Bifur's reply.

"Oh before we go, take this and these." Bilbo explained, shoving a brown package into the toymakers hands that contained their breakfast provisions and then another two for his cousins. "Everyone will get some but I like you Bifur, so these are the extra ones I was going to hide in my saddle. I saw how much Bombur can eat, appetite to rival any hobbit."

Bifur laughed and shoved the packages gratefully into his pockets before blinking at the flower that the hobbit was holding out. He couldn't help but smile and grasp the purple flower before shoving it in his mouth.

"I saw you liked the violets in the only salad I had." Bilbo explained with a shrug before making his way out the door and towards Hamfast's home. Bifur followed with a soft smile and plucked up a few flowers and chewing them happily or spitting them out at the bitter taste causing the hobbit before him to laugh.

"'ister Bilbo?" The small voice pulled Bifur's eyes from the flowers to the wee babe before him. It took all his might not to coo at the child, barely tall enough to reach his waist. He smiled softly at the small babe who was staring at him with frightened eyes and pulled out the wooden horse he had finished carving last night, causing the child to smile brightly up at him.

"Now what do you say Daisy?" Bilbo asked the small faunt who blinked and looked wide eyed up at Bifur.

"Fank you Mister!" She yelled before rushing inside happily. Bilbo merely smiled and waited for he knew that Hamfast or Bell would be out to see who was at the door.

"Oh Bilbo! It's good to see you and who is this?" Bell asked as she rounded the corner, hand resting gently on her stomach.

Bilbo greeted Bell with a wide smile. "It's good to see you as well Bell, Hamfast gave me the good news yesterday! This is my friend Bifur, I'll be accompanying he and a few others on an adventure."

"Yes, I figured when he came home with a bushel of strawberries and some squash. Did you tell him to bring that nice green fabric from the markets because it is lovely? It's a pleasure to meet you Mister Bifur, any friend of Bilbo's is a friend of mine." Bell rambled out causing both men to chuckle.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too Miss." Bifur grunted out with a small bow and blinked surprised when the woman didn't jump or jerk in fear.

"He says it's a pleasure to meet you too. And you know I will never tell. Is it okay if I speak with Hamfast, Bell? I need him to deliver these letters to my Cousin and tell him where the keys are to Bag End when we leave." Bilbo explained, casting a look back up the hill with a frown and then down towards Sackville.

Bell shook her head with a smile. "Hamfast! Bilbo is at the door. Don't you worry Bilbo, me and mine will make sure those grubby little Sackville-Bagginses stay out of Bag End. My faunts would love to go adventuring through Lobelias gardens too and…"

The sudden stop and sharp smile Bell gave made Bilbo laugh, this is why he enjoyed and left the majority of his estate to the Gamgee's if he didn't return. They were more family to him than his actual family, he of course left Bag End to them as well, and it would benefit them with their faunts than it would for Drogo and his wife to be. He also knew that Drogo and his wife would prefer the homier smial that belonged to the Gamgee's now.

"Oh, Mister Bilbo, are you headin' off now?" Hamfast asked as he came into view, nodding his head to the dwarf in greeting.

"Soon Hamfast, I'm leaving the care of Bag End to you and Bell in my absence and these letters will need to be given to Cousin Fortinbras." Bilbo explained as he handed Hamfast the letters. "I'll be leaving the keys in the nook under my garden bench for you to find."

"I'll send Hamson, he'll be glad to go for a run to Tuckborough." Hamfast explained, all three men ignoring Bell's snort.

"Thank you Hamfast, now remember you can take whatever fruit and vegetables from the gardens. Bell, may the Green Mother bless you." He explained with a wide smile as Yavanna appeared beside him, her hands hovering over the babe. Thankfully neither Hamfast nor Bell said anything about him knowing she would. Yes, he explained to Bifur he was a Prophet but knowing things and seeing the Valar are different.

"Another girl, there will be complications as the babe won't sit right; there is not much I can do." Yavanna murmured sadly, causing Bilbo to frown.

"Make sure you have your Aunt stay with you Bell. I wish you both all the luck in the world." Bilbo explained softly pulling them into a hug before quickly making his retreat with Bifur on his heels. "The less goodbyes the better."

"Aye, this I can understand well. You'll see them soon, I will make sure you return if need be." Bifur grunted out quickly before opening the door to Bag End and back inside. He could hear the others awake, the smell of bacon and eggs wafting through the house, which indicated to him that Bombur was up and cooking.

Bilbo sighed and shook his head at that. "I don't know if I will return, my Fate is set and yet there is still too much uncertainty." He whispered to the air, turning to glance up at his Mother, who too had teary eyes.

Best be ready then.


Author Note: Well here you go! Another chapter and longer, if you all will be helpful and help me decide on what powers he has from each of the Valar that would be great. So far he can sense when it rains or if the waters are dangerous, Irmo's slight sight and Yavanna's gift for hearing and helping all things growing as well as Aulë's sense of stone and knowledge of the tongues from all.

Chapter Text

Title: A Cursed Blessing
Pairing: Bilbo/Thorin

Summary: In time of great change a Prophet is born, selected by one of the Valar. When Bilbo is born, he had the markings of the Prophet but it was not One of the Valar that had chosen him, it was all.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing the characters of Tolkien; I do not own them unfortunately…

Author Note: Bold Italic is Khuzdul, Italic is Sindarin, Bold is Black speech and anything between }…{ is Green Tongue.


As the others ate their breakfast Bilbo returned to his room, specifically the chest at the end of his bed where it housed his weapons. The weapons that his mother had got for him long ago on her last adventure, thankfully, they were of Dwarven make. Not to be harsh or cruel but the Men couldn't make weapons worth their weight in gold, at least the Dwarrow knew how to speak and bend the metal they work with to create a very durable and sharp blade.

"So you will be taking them then?" Yavanna asked as he lifted the lid and pulled back the cloth that kept his trident dagger and handheld bardiches. The dagger though was a gift from Aulë himself that Yavanna had given him, it was a wicked weapon that he had not heard or seen before. It looked like a dagger to men, a suitable sword for hobbits and it had a button for him to press to release the prongs so the one blade split to three whether before or after stabbing. Bilbo has only had to use that once and it was when Slavers came to the Shire a year or so after the Fell Winter.

"I will, it'll show mister King-in-Exile." Bilbo murmured with a smile as he picked up the weapons and secured them at his hips. The dagger slightly behind his Bardiche, it would be his backup weapon as he was more comfortable with the bardiches since they kind of felt like a hand held scythe.

"Master Baggins!" The sharp voice of the leader pulled Bilbo from his thoughts and scowled at the door.

"If he wasn't so rude to me I would gladly find him handsome." He expressed to Yavanna bitterly, shaking his head when she simply laughed at him.

"I'm coming!" He yelled once more as he grasped his packs and all the items he would need before slinging them over his shoulder. He didn't waste time in looking around, nor did he let the soft sense of loss affect him as he stepped out the door and closed it.

He also ignored the pointed looks as the others caught sight of the weapons at his waist as he locked the door and hid the key under the nook near the bench for Hamfast. Only then when he had done that did he turn to face the others, a sense of dread filling him as he cast a look at them all before shaking it away.

"I suppose you have your mounts down at the Green Dragon?" He asked as he walked past them.

"Aye, that we do." Balin replied quickly, sharing a look with his brother at the weapons. They were Dwarven make; they could see that clear as day.

"Then we better be off, has everyone got what they needed? Did you all pick up parcels of previsions?" He asked over his shoulder as he made his way down the hill tipping his head in greeting to the hobbits already up and about.

Even though he was the head of his family, he was still outcasted by the residents of Hobbiton. He had some friends yes, not like the Gamgee's but those who could overlook his oddities. Like Drogo and his bride to be, as well as a few others and then there were of course his Took side of the family who accepted him as is. But there were some who simply snubbed him or deemed him unHobbit.

"Ah, Mister Bilbo off on another adventure are we?" Holman's voice calls out from his Garden.

"I've been called yes Holman, you'll keep an eye on Drogo and Hamfast for me will you? Drogo is soon to be wed and Regent for the Head of Baggins Family and Hamfast will have all his attention on Bell and keeping out the Sackville-Bagginses." Bilbo replied, slowing his walk down and allowing the company to walk past.

"Oh aye, I'll do that Bilbo. May good fortune follow you on your travels," Holman farewelled causing Bilbo to smile.

"There will be a rainfall this week, a few days' worth." He explained after looking at the sky, he could feel the storm brewing and knew it would be a long one.

Holman slumped in thanks. "Thank you Bilbo, this will give me time to make sure my plants don't drown."

"You're welcome, maybe this year you'll win with your tomatoes. Good day Holman!" He spat out before catching up with the company when he felt a sense of impending ire from the leader. Thankfully they had just arrived at the Green Dragon and Rudigar was the one who had obtained and kept the horses.

"Uncle Rudigar!" Bilbo greeted with a wide smile. "I did not think to see you today, how is Aunt Belba?"

The old hobbit laughed and embraced his nephew gladly. "She's good Bilbo, misses you dearly. I see you'll be joining these Dwarves. You won't need to pay then, take it as a farewell gift, make sure you come back though do you understand? Belba wouldn't be able to handle another loss." The joyful tone was now serious as Rudigar grasped his nephew's shoulders tightly.

The Dwarrow shifted in surprise at that, they had expected pay for the horses welfare as it was custom now for people to demand high prices just to care for their horses. Just who was this strange hobbit that they have acquired? He had provided them with previsions, dressed down their king, gave them food and a good place to sleep.

"Just make sure you stay on the Bywater, don't go down into the Old Forest or the Barrow-downs, the bounders heard screams commin' from there." The old hobbit whispered to his nephew before letting him go.

"Thank you Rudigar, I'll make sure of that." He whispered back before facing the Dwarrow. "We must hurry, it'll take us two days to reach Bree, maybe four and then we have rain coming."


They were on their second day of travel and Bilbo knew that they were close to the Barrow-downs and Bree. He could feel it in the air and earth, the taint that seemed to spread from darkness he knew not of. It unsettled Bilbo greatly, even more so when the others ignored him, made cruel jokes in their own tongue quite loudly as he pointed out several times to stop and let the pony's to rest.

He brushed Myrtles neck gently and whispered that he was sorry for waring her out, but so far it was his and Bifur's pony that hadn't caused problems so far.

"Mister Boggins, I thought you said you didn't know how to use a weapon?" Kíli asked with a jaunty grin.

Bilbo sighed at the younger, completely ignoring the brother who was chuckling on the other side of him. "It's Baggins Mister Kíli, BAGgins. I didn't say I didn't know how to use weapons Mister Kíli, that is your's, the companies and our leaders opinion. But you should never assume on things, your leader asked if I preferred Axe or Sword, I said neither for I prefer others but he did not give me reason to tell him as such since he was a rude arrogant being."

The smile dropped from the younger's face and Bilbo felt a flash of guilt for upsetting him, he knew that come the end of the quest that the innocence that still rested in the three youngest here would be ripped away cruelly. Bilbo didn't want to start that now, oh no, but he didn't want to be criticized all the way to Erebor.

"We should take a left, if we take a right we go close to The Old Forest and the Barrow-downs." Bilbo called out.

"We will go whatever way I say we are Halfling!" Thorin called back causing Bilbo to scowl and make his way forward, pushing between the wizard and the leader.

"No, the Barrow-downs are dangerous, the Woods trick you and you will be lost forever. But the Barrow-downs are not safe now; there have been reports of screaming in the mist." Bilbo explained, turning his sharp glare to Gandalf who seemed to pause with a frown.

"Are you sure Bilbo?" He asked.

"Of course I'm bloody well sure, Rudigar informed me that the Bounders heard the screams and that means the Barrow-wight's are active once more and closer to the road. It is not safe to travel past it at this time." Bilbo snapped back moving his Pony to stop Thorin once more.

Balin frowned and stopped his king. "I think we should listen Thorin, he knows these lands well. Tell us Laddie, what are Barrow-wight's?"

"The Barrow-wights are lost and tortured spirits, the lay waiting in the fog at night for weary travellers and ensnare them with their song. Once under the spell of the creature, the victim had no will of his own. It is because of this that the Wights drag their victims down to their tombs and end them. That is merely one tale, they were sent to the downs by the Witch King, only few have survived them." Bilbo explained seriously, earning a snort from several of the company.

"I would not dismiss him; I am one of the few who has seen them." Gandalf snapped back, silencing the Dwarrow instantly. "We will continue on the other path just out of view of the Barrow-downs and be on our way to Bree."


Bree: a place that Bilbo unfortunately had to visit quite frequently for trade. It was full of Big Folk, Dwarves and of course Hobbits, but the hobbits here were a little more distant, a little angrier than normal as they dealt with the Big Folk quite often.

He had not spoken to any other bar Ori and Bifur with Bofur and Bombur of course, since the night of the talk about the Barrow-wights. Though he did get many a queer looks from the company, those who expected him and thought of him as worthless, nothing but a gentlefolk.

"We will gather all we need and move on, it's not safe here for us." Thorin ordered and for once Bilbo agreed with him. Something didn't sit right with Bilbo about the company being in Bree, but maybe if they split up? The sense eased slightly.

"Bifur, we need to split up, it's not safe for us all to stay together." The tone that Bilbo used had Bifur's spine to go ramrod straight. It wasn't the voice of his friend but of the Prophet, a tone he had used once when explaining things and it had an undercurrent of knowledge and power.

"Are you sure?" Bifur asked softly as his Cousins and Company were distracted.

"Yes, I just get this sense of doom that comes with all of us together. If we split up it lessens, so I'm going to go gather the things I need and shall meet you on the other side of Bree. Make sure everyone knows it, get Balin to suggest it and tell Nori, he'd take his brothers." He instructs softly before frowning. "Make sure they tell the story of going to the Iron Hills, if they mention Gold or wealth of any kind then someone will be hurt."

Bifur nodded and spoke to his cousins while Nori cocked his head to the side and listened in, he couldn't understand Bifur that much but he caught words here and there. But what he did know was that the Burglar had told him to split us up, danger in Bree together, meet Bilbo on other side.

The copper haired thief narrowed his eyes in thought but would listen to this, he didn't feel comfortable in Bree either, he could feel eyes on him and his kin and that set alarm bells off but the Hobbit saying there was danger just made up his mind. With a hum he leant over to his brothers and whispered his and the burglars worries into their ears, for he will not risk their safety.

"I think we should listen, something doesn't feel right." Ori whispered back, causing both Dori and Nori to stare at him and that was that.

The group reluctantly separated, murmuring what they needed on their trip to the Iron Hills and it caused Bilbo to slump in relief, the continuous rise in danger began to make his skin crawl and now it was down to a manageable hum. They had taken the right path and Bilbo thanked the stars with a pain filled heart that Dwarrow were weary and mistrustful of men.

It didn't take him long to gather the herbs he needed from the apothecary, plus bandages that he knew they would need. He was on his way out of Bree when he came to a sudden stop, his eyes flicking to the store to his left with a frown. He needed to go in there, needed to get something that was important and who was he to deny it. With a sigh Bilbo dismounted his pony and tied her to the post before making his way inside to the Traders, he let his feet guide him until he stood before a small velvet bag that had two clasps and four hair beads that were obvious of Dwarven make.

"Ah, I see you like the set yes?" The voice caused Bilbo's head to jerk up and nod. The man was nice enough looking but he had a bad soul, his greed nearly suffocating.

"Yes, they are beautiful. I have a birthday party coming up and need some Mathoms to give out." He heard himself saying though he knew that the only people he would be giving them too would be the owners.

"Excellent, they're silver and gold, with chips of sapphires and rubies." The man said. "A fair-haired dwarf traded them a while ago when I was a boy and then a dark haired one came and completed the set not long ago. We have more from dwarves if you wish to look?"

Bilbo knew whose they belonged to, he could see the sigil for the Durin house. They were marriage beads and deed beads to show great acts. The clasps looked familiar but could not place them. "I'll take the set, what else do you have?"

He followed the very enthusiastic trader around and bought a few more trinkets, a cuff, a necklace, more beads and then a ring. A very familiar ring that seemed to speak to him. "I'll take them all." He stated firmly, writing out a check for how much the man demanded of it, not even caring to get him to lower the price.

He felt lighter as he walked out the store, the pouch resting in his breast pocket of his cloak. He'd have to return them to their owners when the time was right, for now he had a company to meet.


Author Note: Thank you to Illuvien for the suggestions on his powers! A Kudos to you all if you can figure out who the set belongs too!

Chapter Text

Title: A Cursed Blessing
Pairing: Bilbo/Thorin

Summary: In time of great change a Prophet is born, selected by one of the Valar. When Bilbo is born, he had the markings of the Prophet but it was not One of the Valar that had chosen him, it was all.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing the characters of Tolkien; I do not own them unfortunately…

Author Note: Bold Italic is Khuzdul, Italic is Sindarin, Bold is Black speech and anything between }…{ is Green Tongue.


Another day had passed and thankfully they were no longer near Weathertop. The place felt all kinds of wrong to Bilbo and between the warnings from Yavanna and her explanations of the place, it didn’t sit well, especially when the boys thought it be a good joke to tease him of his fear of Orcs.

“Do not let them get to you Bilbo, they are young in this world and mean no harm.” His Mother had told him softly, running her fingers through his curls in comfort. But it did not comfort him; it made his heart ache and memories to push their way to the forefront of his mind.

Wolves and Orcs with their Wargs; running into the Shire for food and to cause death. No, it did not calm him, but he knew he was not alone in the nightmares. Thorin… Bilbo’s heart ached for the pain that the King-in-Exile went through and could understand his loss.

To be so young and fight in a war that was started for greed, so soon after the fall of Erebor. No, Bilbo knew the battle behind Moria and knew that Thrór had sent for aid to reclaim the wealth of the mountain and not security for his people. He knew that Thráin backed his father for that reason, not for the wealth. No, Thráin wished to secure a home for his people that were not built in the ruins of another kingdom slowly being swallowed by the sea.

"And I thought to myself then, there is one who I could follow. There is one I could call King." Balin’s words echoed through his head and Bilbo had to respect them, all of them really. Thorin’s bitterness was from taking the weight of a kingdom, a lone wandering and starved kingdom, upon his shoulders far too soon. So Bilbo would allow some leniency to the rudeness that was presented to him and the others of course, them playing ignore the hobbit was due to Thorin’s attitude.

"Are you alright Master Baggins?" Ori, sweet Ori asked, his face pinched in concern.

“I am fine Master Ori, just stuck in bad memories I wished to forget.” Bilbo replied, shaking his head and dislodging the memories.

“Was it from the princes mean trick?” The scribe whispered his question, his eyes flickering to the company and back.

Bilbo scrunched his nose. “Sort of, the Shire and the people of it know the feel of Orc blades and the death they bring.” He left it at that and pushed his pony faster to ride next to Bifur in silence, each giving little bits of food here and there.

When the sun was just past midday Bilbo felt a sense of dread tingle his spine, his eyes snapping from the carving in Bifur’s hands to the trees around them. They had just reached the end of the Lone-lands and before him a few miles up the road was the last bridge that crossed the river into Trollshaw. His senses wreaked havoc as he felt the prickle on the back of his neck that screamed danger that was near muted out by the soft prickle of oncoming rain.

He didn’t even bother to explain as he ruffled through his pack and pulled out his raincoat, thankfully Bifur had joined him and in response so did Bofur and Bombur. The Brothers Ur had come to trust the hobbit, thanking him silently with friendship and extra bit of food for being a friend to their Cousin. Not many people could overlook the crazed gaze and the axe in the head, nor could many understand him but the hobbit never flinched away, nor treat him like a cloudyhead. He spoke to Bifur like he would speak to them and they respected him because of it.

Not a moment later the skies above opened and the rain seemed to pour down. Everyone scrambled to gather their raincoat, none laughing now at the hobbit that seemed to wear his raincoat in the hot sun with naught a cloud in sight. He was an odd Halfling that was for sure to many, except the Ur family and the Ri family, the others tended to treat him like a fool and an oddity.

The day had passed slowly and by the time they reached the very first tree of Trollshaw everyone was nearly waterlogged but Bilbo.

"Here, Mr. Gandalf, can't you do something about this deluge?" Asked Dori asked the wizard from beside his brother.

"It is raining, Master Dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard." The irritation in Gandalf’s voice could be heard by all.

This caused Bilbo to smirk, what a fine way to continue to annoy him, afterall the blasted wizard hasn’t said anything to the others about Hobbits and for a friend of his mothers, he sure disrespected her memory by allowing the company to treat him as such. "Are there any?"

Gandalf hummed distracted. "What?"

"Other wizards?" Bilbo replied, hiding his smirk. Oh he knew there were more than Gandalf, he’s known for quite some time on what Maiar walk the earth and for whom.

"There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman, the White. Then there are the two Blue Wizards; you know, I've quite forgotten their names." He explained with a chuckle, but deep down he was concerned, he had not seen the Ithryn Luin in a long time.

Bilbo frowned and looked over to his Mother who was tending to the trees and singing, giving them life. She would not be able to answer him, as all her focus was in giving life to the earth that had not been tended to in a very long time.

He knew of the five wizards, five sent by their Valar under Manwë’s instruction. Curunír or Saruman the White, he was the first sent to Arda and Aulë’s messenger, then there was Alatar or Morinehtar the blue who was Oromë’s messenger and of course Olórin known as Gandalf the Grey. But Varda had instructed they not be the only ones, so Yavanna begged Gandalf to take Aiwendil Radagast the Brown of course and Alatar had brought forth his friend Pallando known as Rómestámo the Blue, he was the second half of the Ithryn Luin.

"And who is the fifth?" Ori asked, shaking Bilbo from his thoughts.

"Well, that would be Radagast, the Brown." Gandalf answered offhandedly, indulging the third youngest.

"Is he a great Wizard or is he...more like you?" Bilbo asked with a twitch of the lips, holding back his laughter as the Wizard shot him a look over his shoulder before facing the trail once more. He ignored the shocked faces of the company at his lip to the wizard.

"I think he's a very great wizard, in his own way. He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the East, and a good thing too, for always Evil will look to find a foothold in this world." He explained slightly offended but Bilbo didn’t care the old coot.

Everything was usually Gandalf’s fault anyway, as his mother used to say.

The rains continued well into the next day, by now Bilbo was praying to Ulmo for a break. Rain he could deal with but this was a constant pour with no sight for the ending.

“What are you doing Master Baggins?” It was surprisingly Glóin who asked him as he had his head tilted back so the rain could wash his face as he uttered his prayers.

“I am praying to Ulmo to stop this forsaken rain, two days is enough for this downpour.” Bilbo replied simply, blinking when all the company including Thorin turned to look at him in shock. “What don’t you pray to the Valar?”

“No, we only pray to our maker and sometimes the Lady.” Thorin replied slowly, unsure nearmost but Bilbo could see the familiar tilt of his lips that was always gracing his ‘You are a halfwit’ look.

“Do all hobbits pray to the Valar?” Balin asked curious and Bilbo could see Yavanna laughing, could hear her laughing as she once again tended to the trees.

“Goodness yes, we pray to Ulmo for rain come spring, we pray to our Mother for a fresh harvest and good health, we even pray to your own Aulë for strength and guidance. I pray to all the Valar, whether they hear me or not I don’t know.” He explained with a shrug and continued on, smirking as he heard the others pray to Ulmo to stop the rain, thankfully by the time they reached open field that lead up into the hills the rain finally stopped.

But with the stopped rain came the prick at the back of his neck again and the sudden urge to flee. His arm itched and he knew that where they were was not safe. He confessed his fears to the wizard, never taking his eyes off of the house, the ruined something broke through it house.

"Everything alright? Gandalf, where are you going?" He called from Myrtles side as he saw the angry wizard stomping past them.

"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense." Gandalf shouted as he stormed towards his horse at the end of the others, still tacked.


"Who's that?" Bilbo shouted after him as he narrowed his eyes and looked towards the east where he knew Rivendell rested.


"Myself, Mr. Baggins!" He yelled back annoyed before muttering. "I've had enough of dwarves for one day."


Trolls, of course it had to be bloody trolls.

‘If you run into trouble, hoot twice like a barn owl, once like a brown owl’ indeed, he huffed.

Of course Bofur asked if he could deliver the boys their dinner and doing Valar knows what, they lost the ponies. They lost the ponies to trolls. Just what on Arda were they doing to miss a bloody Valar forsake TROLL?

So they shoved him forward, taking their dinner and demanding as their burglar to steal back their ponies. Lucky he kept his weapons with him at all times for if he didn’t, he knew they would have pushed him out defenceless. It didn’t help that the trees screamed in pain back where the ponies were.

With a grumble Bilbo moved, thankful to his swift footedness from Nessa as he made his way quickly and silently to where the Ponies were and trying not to gag at the smell of the trolls. He could hear the ponies whinnying as he grew closer and pulled out his dagger, making soft soothing noises as he got to them.

“I need you to go back to the other ponies when I release you.” He whispered, patting his beloved pony softly before quickly cutting the ropes, his head snapping around as Kíli charged from the trees along with the others of the company.

“Peace my little one, you must help them.” Yavanna whispered softly as she crouched by his side and pressed her hand into the earth. Below her hands grew the flowers and berries of his mother namesake, a devious smile upon his lips and his Mothers.

“Don’t bother cooking them. Let’s just sit on them and squash them into jelly.” One troll – let’s call him Sneezy stated.

By now the Dwarrow's were stripped of their weapons, half tied to a spit while the other half were tied up in bags. Bilbo felt his stomach roll, his heart clenching as he stood to his full height and clutched the poison in his palms. They may be corrupted creatures and this is the curse of Nienna’s blessing, he felt emotion for all that walked Arda, much less orcs and whatnot mind you but Trolls were lesser of evils in the darkness of the world.

“Wait! You are making a terrible mistake.” He called out, clenching his eyes tightly and opening them before stepping into view.

The three trolls, Chef, Sneezy and Brute all turned to look at him in confusion while the others shouted and demanded him to run. Well, ordered him to run but run he will not. He felt his body jerk when he felt his Mother and Father’s hands rest upon his shoulders giving him strength.

“Who are you?” Brute asked as he rotated the Dwarrow over the fire.

“I’m the chef around these parts, I stumbled across your campsite as I heard dwarves yelling and screaming.” Bilbo explained, his nose twitching at the violation of his senses when the chef leant down in front of him.

“An’ wot you think is wrong?” He asked, poking the little chef with his meaty finger.

“The seasoning is all wrong, have you smelt them?” He demanded, gesturing to the company as a whole and ignoring their shouts of indignation and ire. “You’re going to need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up.”

“QUIET! He’s delaying them! The sun is on the horizion!” Bifur yelled furiously while his Cousin translated it into normal Khuzdul for them all.

Nori nodded vigorously as he saw the plants in the hobbits hands as he rotated around. “He’s carrying deadly nightshade, enough to kill three trolls if the sun doesn’t come quick enough!”

The company stilled and snapped their eyes to their burglar who indeed held the plants tightly in his little hands. His whole demeanor was wrong to many of them, he stood with his head held high as he argued with the trolls and his voice did not shake in fear like they thought he would. But he seemed to stand taller in the golden glow of the fire more than normal, his face set in a mask of seriousness, his shoulders back and they for a blink of a second could see two people stand behind him before vanishing.

“Well I have the right herbs for you to use, just put it in your stew and let it steep before throwing them in, trust me the taste will be much better, my Mothers secret recipe.” Bilbo explained with a wide smile that may seem friendly to the Trolls but the company could see the sharp lines of the hobbits face. He was showing too much teeth to be a smile of friendliness.

“What a load of rubbish! I’ve eaten plenty with their skins on. Scuff them, I say, boots and all.” Brute scoffed annoyed as he stilled the pike.

“E’s right! But I want to see if the little chef is correct. The stew be bland for smelly dwarves.” Sneezy supplied and that was that, Chef snatched the plants from Bilbo's hands and shoved it into the stew and waited, all the while arguing with the others.

“Oh, this is nice.” Sneezy hummed as he took a sip of the stew, causing what Bilbo had hoped and pray for, the other two demanded to try.

Bilbo moved, ignoring the Dwarrow's once more as they stared at him stunned at his speed before the ones on the spit found themselves falling into the fire yelping, only to quiet as the hobbit snapped at them.

Be quiet, you're Dwarrow, you don’t feel the flames this cold.’ Honestly it shocked all the company at that as twirled around and avoided the gasping trolls.

“The dawn will take you all!” Gandalf’s booming voice resonated in the small camp and with it came light. But it mattered not as the Trolls were already dead and it left Bilbo standing in the middle looking unimpressed up at the wizard, the sense of doom now gone.

“Took your time.” Bilbo gritted out between clenched teeth, his eyes narrowed in displeasure at the wizard. Huffing when the blasted wizard did nothing but smirk at him in return.


Author Note: Well I wanted to do something different for the troll scene, next will be some Thorin thoughts and Nori and Bilbo talk about the nightshade.You'll also have to imagine Yavanna and Aule standing behind Bilbo with the hue of the flames casting their golden glow! I think it would be a spectacular image to see.

I’m still deciding if Fíli and Kíli’s adad is still alive or not also and who to pair the boys with, not a fan of Tauriel.

Chapter Text

Title: A Cursed Blessing
Pairing: Bilbo/Thorin

Summary: In time of great change a Prophet is born, selected by one of the Valar. When Bilbo is born, he had the markings of the Prophet but it was not One of the Valar that had chosen him, it was all.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing the characters of Tolkien; I do not own them unfortunately…

Author Note: Bold Italic is Khuzdul, Italic is Sindarin, Bold is Black speech and anything between }…{ is Green Tongue.


Bilbo was near ropable as he marched towards the two Durin princes and pinched their ears, yanking them down to his height. He ignored them as they began to whine, beg and yank – well try and yank themselves from his hold but all he did was twist their ears more so like he would a naughty faunt.

"Mister Baggins please!" Kíli cried out, near buckling.

"Yes please!" Fíli backed up while falling to his knees beside his brother, his eyes clenched shut in agony.

"What is the meaning of this?" Thorin boomed as he diverted his path to the Halfling with his sister-sons ears in his grip.

Bilbo glared at the dwarf before him and let the dwarflings go, watching as they scrambled up and away from him to hide behind their red faced uncle. "Well if they wish to act like Fauntlings, then I shall treat them as such."

The two in question flinched as their uncle shot them a look before turning back to the Halfling, praying to Mahal not to yell at the hobbit. He knew that it was not the hobbits fault for being caught and the small creature even dared to converse with the trolls to free them. "And what did my sister-sons do?"

"Your sister-sons let trolls take out ponies. On top of that, when I came to give them their supper and found out what exactly took the ponies, they…" Here he trailed off to glare darkly at the two. "…decided to push me towards the camp seeming I am their burglar, took their meal and vanished. They rebutted my questions if we should inform you and they did not check with me to see if I had any weapons, thankfully I do and…"

"YOU DID WHAT?" The roar that left Thorin's mouth had the company pausing from getting clothed once more and turned to face their king. "Have your mother, Dwalin and I taught you nothing? Why did you send the Halfling to gather the ponies, he could have been killed because of your foolishness."

Bilbo spluttered in indignation. "I beg your pardon!"

"Let it go lad, he did not mean it to be harsh." Balin sighed as he came to the burglar's side.

"No, I know I could have been killed by three trolls, it would have been hard for them to kill me of course, but he is right there. But Halfling that— we are not half of anything! Calling a Hobbit, Halfling is like someone calling you Dwarf or even Cloudyhead." Bilbo spluttered out in frustration, watching as the white-headed Dwarrow's mouth drop open in shock.

"I'll be sure to let Thorin and the others know, I did not – we did not know." Balin stressed.

The Prophet hummed and then frowned, his body still hummed in warning and he couldn't quite place it. He just knew they needed to keep going east and quickly, there were no alternate routes. "I'll be with the Ponies."

Thorin watched the Halfling—Hobbit go with a frown. Worry niggled in his mind as he watched the small creature leave with a slight hitch to his step, his face weary as he looked at the others. Thorin could silently admit that he had misjudged the hobbit. He was not as incompetent as he had first thought, not with his words at any rate, be he would still have to prove his worth in weaponry. Anyone could carry a blade but it takes skill to use them.

"Where did you go to, if I may ask?" He demanded the wizard.

"To look ahead." Gandalf replied simply, casting a look down at the unimpressed king.

Thorin paused. "What brought you back?"

"Looking behind." The Wizard explained softly, causing Thorin to dip his head in gratitude and slight annoyance as Tharkûn changed the subject. "Nasty business. Still, they are all in one piece."

A noncommittal hum left the king-in-exiles throat, his eyes drifting towards where the hobbit left and back to the wizard. "He is different, why did you choose him?"

"Thorin! We found their horde!" Dwalin yelled, causing his attention to snap from the Wizard to his cousin. He cast Tharkûn a suspicious look as he took Thorin's attention elsewhere as a means to move and escape, but he made note to speak to the Wizard after.

"How far away?" He asked Dwalin, casting a look at the path before him.

"Not that far, but we should gather our things and the Ponies. We are all exhausted and will need the rest, the Hobbit particularly." The Guard explained with a frown. "Bofur explained that the hobbit had yet to eat because he instructed him to give the boys their food. What excuse did they give you?"

Thorin felt his annoyance spike once more at his sister-sons. He had trusted them on one simple task and they couldn't even do that. It was reasons like this that he was worried for them coming on their quest; they were still children in the eyes of Dwarrow's. Yes, they were both over their coming of age but until they were masters in their trade, they would not be considered full adults.

With a harsh sigh he shot his sister-sons who were now being lectured by Balin another disapproving glare. If they weren't so far from Ered Luin, he would send them back, kin or not. He couldn't risk them doing something like this again.

"They fell asleep." Thorin grunted out exhausted.

Dwalin let out a harsh sound. "Mahal wept Thorin."

"I know." The king replied with a tired sigh. "We are all tired, I gave them first watch and they decided to kip. I still have half the mind to send them home. But what is worse than that is what the hobbit said, that is what bothers me and makes me question their readiness for this quest."

"Aye, the lads didn't give him a blade or even think to ask if he had one." Dwalin muttered lowly, he too had heard the hobbit seething and explaining what the two idiots did. He had trained them since they could lift an axe on how to fight and what to do in that situation but they didn't even check to see if the hobbit had weapons on him at the time.

He also wasn't stupid to believe that the hobbit was helpless as his body and the general knowledge of Shire Folk were like seemed. He had seen the hobbit move to evade the trolls, faster than a Man, Dwarf and an Elf even. He had also seen the spine of Mithril the hobbit had when facing Thorin in his ire, no, Dwalin was not a fool.

There was something about the hobbit.


Troll hordes were just as bad in smell as their occupants. The smell three times as worse and it was why no one ever dared to venture near them no matter the bounty guaranteed inside. This is why they were now before the gaping mouth of the dried out bog of eternal stench; the trolls no longer were a threat to them.

"Are you well Bilbo?" Bifur growled out slowly and quietly as possible while the others searched the boxes near the entries.

"I am fine, the smell is disgusting. Mother is not happy and Nienna's curse is bothering me." He replied with a sigh, his hand rubbing the mark on his arm and his chest aching in sadness. He had killed three living things, corrupted and evil they may be but living creature nonetheless.

"You can understand him?" Bilbo jumped as Bombur's soft voice appeared behind them. "I came over when I saw Bifur speaking to you but you answered him easily."

Bilbo's shoulders sagged a little and cast a look around to see who else could hear them before leaning closer to the kind chef. "I can. It is a blessing by the Valar that I understand the languages of Arda."

"Then why let us translate?" Bombur asked with a slight frown, his hands clutched in front of him and resting on his belly.

"Because I'm not allowed to know Khuzdul of any form Bombur," Bilbo said with a shrug, not minding it was a secret language. "Plus, I thought it would make you and Bofur included in our conversations."

Bifur couldn't help but grin at the little hobbit; beside himself he knew that everyone only spoke to Bombur because of Bofur. Without him, they would be ignored or left out but here the little hobbit, his friend, included his cousins willingly and without thought really.

"We cannot mention it to the others; they will not like the reason…" Bifur explained to his Irak'Nadad.

Bombur blinked and then frowned not understanding. "Why?"

"Because I'm the Prophet," Bilbo rushed out softly before making his way to Gandalf's side as he stepped from the cave calling for him.

Bilbo frowned down at the blade that Gandalf was holding out for him to take. "I don't need another blade Gandalf."

"Bilbo Baggins! You will take this blade, it is of Elvish make which means it will glow blue when orcs or goblins are nearby." Gandalf stressed out before shoving the sword and scabbard into the hobbits hands, completely ignoring the scowl on his face.

"Radagast is coming, something is wrong." Yavanna whispered to him as he picked up the sound of thundering steps.

"Somethings coming!" Thorin yelled and it took everything within Bilbo not to sigh exasperated as they all rushed towards the sound instead of waiting.

"Something is wrong…" He murmured, his eyes flashing up to his Mothers as the prickling sensation grew stronger. Something was coming, something very dark, and if they didn't move and move now then it would be here soon.

Bilbo was stuck, stuck between running towards the others or fleeing, it was something he had trouble with once and that was in the Fell Winter when it involved Orcs. It was because of that fear, he didn't make it to his mother in time, it was because of that curse his family and others were destroyed.

It was an overwhelming sense of dread, Mandos and Vaire's curse. Mandos's ability he was gifted was to sense oncoming dread or death, a great doom of someone or place. Vaire's was to know what path to take to avoid the danger, to change the fate but both were and could be unreliable as the fate can be changed and the weaver of fate had yet to see it.

A howl filled the air and it pushed Bilbo to run, his hand grasping his trident dagger before jumping, a cry escaping his lips as he slammed down on the first Warg and buried the blade to the hit, his finger pressing the release button to make sure the beast was dead.

There was no good in the animal, no love in its heart and its soul was corrupted beyond. No regret would be felt over killing the creature; no sadness would well in his heart. With a grunt he pulled the blade out, forked and all, bringing with it a chunk of animal.

"Bilbo?" His name was called by a few of the company, many in stunned surprise. He had just come from the trees after all with an uncommon look of rage upon his usually cheery face. The blade in his hand was no longer a singular blade by triple, a weapon they as a company had not seen for a very long time.

"We need to run; there is an Orc pack not far behind us." He explained, his eyes scanning the trees as he did so.

Gandalf strode towards Thorin angrily. "Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin?"

"No one." Thorin replied annoyed, his eyes flickering to the dead Warg the hobbit had killed and back.

"Who did you tell?" Gandalf demanded once more, louder.

"No one, I swear. What in Durin's name is going on?" Thorin demanded the Wizard, frustrated.

Gandalf shook his head, eyes scanning he forest. "You are being hunted."

"We have to get out of here." Dwalin expressed, grasping his weapons tighter.

Bilbo took towards Radagast as the others argued and stared up at the brown wizard who was silently conversing with Mother. "Mother?"

Radagast jumped slightly and looked down at the hobbit before him with wide eyes. "A Prophet? We know that one was born but in a hobbit? My lady, if he is here…"

"She and I both know the risks Radagast. What happened? Why are you here?" Bilbo asked softly, making sure the others didn't hear what the Wizard had said.

"The greenwood is sick, something Dark has fallen over it and is twisting it terribly." Radagast explained to both the Prophet and his Lady. "Oromë and his Bride have tried to help me heal it but they cannot sense where the darkness comes from. I found it in the old fortress but I cannot sense life."

"The ponies have bolted!" Ori cried out as he came running back, causing Bilbo to turn back to the conversation.

"I'll draw them off." Radagast piped up suddenly, giving his Lady a slight bow of the head as he hopped back onto the slay.

"These are Gundabad Wargs; they will outrun you." Gandalf stated firmly, almost disbelieving at the idiocy his friend was showing.

Radagast leans forward, pointing to the hares before him with a smirk on his lips. "These are Rhosgobel Rabbits; I'd like to see them try."

"May the Green Mother protect you." Bilbo blessed, knowing that Yavanna would be going with him to protect them all.

Radagast gave them all a farewell before pushing off with a laugh. The others grabbed what they had left and began to follow Gandalf from the trees and into the open plains. No one but Bilbo knew where they were going, deciding to trust Tharkûn with their destination.

They all ran as fast as they could, jerking back and coming to complete halts when Radagast flew past them with the pack on his heels. Bilbo stuck near the Ur family and the Brothers Ri, something just seemed like he should and thankfully it did when he felt Nori grasp his coat and yank him back in time not to be spotted while Thorin did the same with Ori.

Thorin turns to Gandalf suspicious as the wizard informs them to keep running. "Where are you leading us?"

Bilbo felt the magic slam into him as he reached the boarders of Elrond's bounds. The elves would feel them and come soon, the danger passing but still not enough when he found himself pressed into Thorin's side with the rock at his back whispering danger from above him.

Thorin looked over the ledge, instinctively pulling the hobbit closer to his body as his eyes land on the Warg and Orc on the cropping of rocks above before turning to look at Kili, gesturing to his sister-son and his bow. Kili nodded, nocking and arrow before pulling back and letting it fly.

The Warg cried out as the arrow lodged into its shoulder before falling down, bringing the Orc with it, the cries and snarls echoing across the plains. Dwalin and Bifur rushed forward with their weapons, Bilbo doing the same, slamming his dagger in the throat of the massive beast and releasing the blades once more.

Panic welled up in him as he cried out, his body lurching with the prick of danger at the back of his neck and this time he couldn't help but force his legs to run. He ran towards the hidden entry where he knew Gandalf now was, he ran and then paused when he heard someone scream for Ori and Kíli.

"NO!" He screamed, his hands pulling out his Bardiches and charged. He took in the faces of others as he rushed past them and jumped his body twisting as he slashed out and culled the twisted filth before him who was trying to kill the children of this company.

He didn't hesitate but spring up once more, kicking back the Warg with surprising strength as it lept at him and slashed out at the fallen rider. "RUN!" He ordered the younglings. "DORI!"

The eldest Ri didn't hesitate but lift his brother and the prince before tossing them back, his eyes staying locked on the surprisingly agile burglar. Bilbo could hear the others shouting for himself and for Gandalf but his arm burned with Tulkas's strength and agility as he fought off another Warg and Orc rider as he made his way towards the other.

"This way, you fools!" Gandalf yelled as he sticks his head up from behind the rocks where the entrance lay hidden. He took in the scene before him with raised brows, half the company fighting while the others stood and watched Bilbo fight off his own. Thorin shot the wizard a displeased look and ordered his company to fall in.

"Bilbo!" Thorin yelled ordering the hobbit to run while his company rushed passed him, his own sword slashing out and killing a Warg that got too close. He would wait for the hobbit, who he had judged too harshly on his stature and kind. He had just saved the life of his sister-son and youngest Ri.

"GO!" Bilbo yelled out slamming into Thorin and sending them toppling down into the cave mouth with loud grunts of pain just as an elven horn echoed the air.

Thorin blinked in surprise as he landed on top of the hobbit, his arms on either side of the hobbits head. Rich green with flecks of brown and gold connected with ice blue and Thorin felt his breathe hitch, Lukhudel his mind whispered as the glowing skin of the hobbit began to recede slightly.

"Mamahbanmûn." Bilbo breathed out in shock as he stared up into the stunned ice blue eyes of the king before he could stop himself.

"Elves!" Someone grunted out and suddenly Thorin was gone from Bilbo's view as Dwalin hoisted his king up to his feet and Bifur helped Bilbo.

Thorin frowned and cast the hobbit a look as he turned away, many questions on his tongue and mind. How did the Hobbit know to fight? Where did he learn to fight? But the question that taunted him the most was did he mean what he just said?


Author Note: So sorry for the delay, I just quit my job and things have been hectic. Either way here's another chapter!

Mamahbanmûn - He who is (or has been) made beautiful.

Lukhudel – Light of all Lights

Irak'Nadad – cousin

Chapter Text

Title: A Cursed Blessing
Pairing: Bilbo/Thorin

Summary: In time of great change a Prophet is born, selected by one of the Valar. When Bilbo is born, he had the markings of the Prophet but it was not One of the Valar that had chosen him, it was all.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing the characters of Tolkien; I do not own them unfortunately…

Author Note: Bold Italic is Khuzdul, Italic is Sindarin, Bold is Black speech and anything between }…{ is Green Tongue.


The company the pathway with Gandalf's prompting. They could not get out the way they came, so the only choice was to go through the pass. Thorin was frustrated, he has been shoved behind Dwalin while Bilbo was shoved to the back with Gandalf and Bifur, Thorin wanted to know how Bilbo knew Khuzdul and the reason why he uttered the word he did.

But it seemed the Valar was out to get him, for he found himself at the front and away from the hobbit when he decided to ask.

Bilbo frowned as he came to a stop, letting the others go forth and stilling Bifur and Gandalf. "The magic is welcoming Gandalf but it is wary and I do not know if we will be welcomed here." If I will be welcomed here… was left out.

"Of course we will be welcomed Bilbo." Gandalf waved off with a chuckle causing Bilbo to scowl. As much as he wished to see Lord Elrond and Rivendell, he did not want the others to know he was a prophet yet and he knew that there would be no chance of hiding the fact he was one from the Elves. "Worry not Bilbo my boy, all will be well."

The huff that left his lips was disbelieving and frustrated as he stared at the wizards back. Even though his body agreed with the fact they would be safe, he couldn't help but be wary, even more so when they stepped out onto the ledge that overlooked Rivendell, Elven songs on the air.

"The Valley of Imraldis. In the Common Tongue, it's known by a another name." Gandalf explained smiling as he made his way forward.

Bilbo cast a look at the unnerving landscape before him. "Rivendell."

As beautiful as it was, it was unnerving. It made him feel unsteady and yet strong, never changing. He remembered his mother telling him stories of Rivendell, of the Twins, of Elrond and Glorfindel. This was nothing like his mother's stories and yet it surpassed them in every way, he hated it here already.

Thorin spun on his foot and marched up towards the Wizard. "This was your plan all along, to seek refuge with our enemy."

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. The only ill-will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself." Gandalf replied sharply with disapproval, drawing the company and Bilbo's eyes away from the landscape to them.

"You think the Elves will give our quest their blessing?" Thorin hissed to Tharkûn. "They will try to stop us."

"Of course they will. But we have questions that need to be answered." He snapped, watching as Thorin sighed in defeat of this. "If we are to be successful, this will need to be handled with tact and respect and no small degree of charm. Which is why you will leave the talking to me."

Bilbo snorted, he couldn't help it. As undignified as it was, that was utter hogwash, Bilbo knew Gandalf had come here before to warn the Elves of their arrival, they knew they were coming. Charm, yes the wizard has so much of that already. The Company seeing the displeasure on their hobbits face cheered up a bit, they didn't know nor care if the displeasure was at Tharkûn or their situation but either way, he was just as displeased as them.

The Company as One begin to move down the path, making sure the one in front of them didn't fall or trip over the unstable path. Bilbo meanwhile gazed at the place, trying to settle his own Magic inside to coexist for now with Lord Elrond's. He could hear the others complaining, pointing out the shoddy architecture and defence of the place.

"The lands of Rivendell are warded with Magic; by the time the enemies breached into the Valley an army would be ready." He uttered to the Dwarrow stilling their conversation for a second.

"You can feel Magic Bilbo?" Balin asked with amazed eyes.

Bilbo blinked before frowning. "All hobbits can; me more so than others, but yes I can feel the Magic in the air. It unnerves me, makes me feel relaxed and nauseous at the same time."

"That must be a both a curse and a blessing Master Baggins." Glóin replied from in front of Balin.

"You don't know the half of it." He muttered softly so only he could hear and gazed up to where his Mother usually was. He had not seen her since the forest and he hoped she stayed with Radagast; the wizard may need her more than him at the current moment.

"Mithrandir." A dark haired elf greeted and Bilbo wondered if it was one of the Twins, but by his mother's stories, one was never without the other.

"Ah, Lindir!" Gandalf greeted. "I must speak with Lord Elrond."

The Elf frowned and swept his gaze over the company, causing many of them to shift and growl. That was where Bilbo found himself a minute later, the centre of the group with Ori while a troop of armed horsemen approached along the bridge at a rapid rate.

Bilbo and Ori shared an exasperated look as the others closed tighter around them, their weapons raised and ready to attack if one of the elves decided to do so. Bilbo though annoyed at being treated like he needed protected was glad that he was not in the outer circle; he was after all a good head shorter than the Dwarrow and horses he did not like.

When the elves eventually stop, one dismounts, one that Bilbo knew to be Lord Elrond. "Gandalf."

"Lord Elrond. Mellonnen! Mo evínedh?" Gandalf greets, causing Bilbo to scowl and cock his head to the side.

The look that the Elf Lord gives to the wizard just confirms Bilbo's theory that he had ventured to Rivendell when he left them to trolls. "Farannem 'lamhoth i udul o charad. Dagannem rim na Iant Vedui." (We've been hunting a pack of Orcs that came up from the South. We slew a number near the Hidden Pass.)

"Strange for Orcs to come so close to our borders. Something, or someone, has drawn them near." The elf lord replied once more and Bilbo had enough, he shoved through the line of Dwarrow, wincing when his elbow hit Dwalin's armour and stared up at the two Bigfolk before him.

"It is rude to speak another tongue in front of guests who do not understand." He uttered in fluent Sindarin, causing all elves to look down at him in surprise, the Wizard most of all. "The Orc Packs were hunting us, Gandalf lead us here to your home. I do apologise but is there anywhere we can clean up, as you can see I am covered in the stench of troll and Warg blood."

Elrond blinked down at the hobbit before him in surprise before swinging his head around and staring at his eldest friend with disapproval. He had sensed the Prophet the second he had stepped onto his lands and to find that it was in a hobbit of all beings was astounding, but to see a joyous creature known for their fondness of comfort so utterly miserable.

"Lindir, show our guests where they can bathe and rest before we dine. I would like to hear more about the Orcs hunting this company of Dwarrow and how a Hobbit of the Shire came to be with them." Elrond ordered, watching with amusement as the Dwarrow seemed to pull their companion back into the fold and he wondered if the Hobbit knew what that meant.

"As you wish my lord." Lindir replied with a bow before freezing. "Master Elrohir and Elladan are back from their own hunting raid with Master Estel and Glorfindel, would you like me to place them in the empty wing away from them?"

"That would be fantastic, I would love to meet them at dinner if that's possible, my mother had nothing but kind things to say about Elladan, Elrohir and Glorfindel when I was a Faunt but…" Bilbo trailed off giving the two princes a side glance. "It would be best to keep our pranksters away from yours."

Elrond looked at the younger ones of the Company and blinked before dipping his head in agreeance. He did not need his own troublemakers of sons to meet their Dwarven equivalent, his house and people would not be able to bare their torments.

"If you will follow me?" Lindir informed, gesturing for the Dwarrow to follow him. They did so hesitantly, eyeing the elf and their burglar with suspicion but they didn't dare say anything until they were alone in their wing's bathing rooms.

"What was that?" Thorin demanded the hobbit, who was now placing his bag down back in the main room.

"That would me um… throwing Gandalf under the anvil?" Bilbo explained with a shrug. "The meddling wizard came here when he disappeared to inform them we were coming, but we did not come the way he intended and Elrond was on his way to greet us when he came across the pack."

"And the elvish?" The king demanded again.

Bilbo frowned at the King and then to the others as he saw their distrust. "Well, my mother taught me. She was a friend of Elrond and his kin, she had come here after Gandalf had convinced her to come on a journey when she was a tween. I know many languages, Quenya, Sindarin, Entish, my own language."

"And do you know any of ours?" Balin asked curious, shooting his king a look to silence him.

"I know some Iglishmêk, now don't you start." Bilbo stated with a scowl as he saw many of the Dwarrow open their mouths to protest. "Iglishmêk isn't forbidden to learn, just your spoken Khuzdul."

"He has a point, some outsiders know our hand language but not the words we speak or the runes we write." Nori piped up, his eyes narrowed slightly but enough that those who knew him well and Bilbo too that he was hiding something he knew.

"Now, we've cleared that up. I got us food, a place to sleep and bathe while scolding a wizard and Elf Lord for speaking in Sindarin in front of you. I wish to clean up and eat, I'm starving." Bilbo stated while gathering a fresh pair of clean clothes and made his way into one of the more private bathing chambers in the room; by private he meant the smaller one at the back.

Thorin frowned as he stripped his armour, outer clothing and small cloths off before getting in the larger of the bathing chambers, his eyes never leaving the creamy flesh of the Hobbits. But it was not what caught his attention, no, what caught his attention was the smattering of bruises marring his skin and in the middle of them was three jagged lines that he knew too well.

"Leave the Lad to bathe Thorin, he's not comfortable or open as Dwarrow's bathing, you're making him uncomfortable." Balin whispered sternly, drawing Thorin's gaze away from Bilbo.


When the others got out of the bath, Bilbo steps out of his own smelling much better thanks to the oils and soaps that the Elves had. When he had finally dressed, he pulled up the sleeves of his shirt and pulled off his vambrace and rubbed his marks.

As he had never left the Shire much; mainly to Bree or there about, he's never felt all his marks and their effects. They varied in intensity, some burned and Ulmos seemed like ice water with the thrum of energy that he feels with oncoming rain.

But his arm and body ached with a deep ache he had never felt before. He knew the ache was from riding, from running and being attacked but the deep, deep ache was from his Cursed Blessing from the Valar. He let out a whine as he staggered, his body slowly clamming up since the adrenalin was now wearing off.

"Oh my little sweet, I am sorry." Yavanna whispered as she appeared by his side, her fingers running through his hair. "We did not know that our blessings would cause you such pain."

He waved her off. "I will be fine Mother, go help with the land if you wish, I don't want the elves to sense you and blurt out I am a prophet."

Yavanna blinked and kissed her Hobbit's brow before disappearing; she knew he didn't like being the Prophet, especially since the world had turned bitter and had come to hate the prophet and many had stopped praying to them, stopped believing in them.

"Master Baggins are you coming?" Ori asked softly from the door.

"You can call me Bilbo, Ori. I consider us to be friends." He replied as he quickly shoved his vambrace on once more.

Ori's eyes popped open wide and a smile graced his face. "Really?"

Bilbo blinked confused. "Really what?"

"You consider me a friend?" Ori asked again, this time a little more timidly.

"Of course I do Ori, why wouldn't I?" He asked as he clasped his last clasp and walked out into the main room where the others were waiting, the elf from before standing nervously at the door.

"My Lord has asked me to bring you to the balcony where we are to dine." Lindir explained, speaking and looking at the Hobbit before him all the while stepping back from the angry looking dwarves.

Bilbo looked up at the elf with a raised brow and then at the Company and back. "That will be splendid, thank you."

Lindir smiled slightly and turned to lead them, ignoring the conversation behind him and focusing his attention on the lookout for the sound of blades being drawn or the Twins.

"And when did you become the leader of this Company, Master Baggins?" Thorin asked stepping to the Hobbit's side.

"Since I can speak Sindarin and decided to be polite. But we are in the house of Elves, Thorin. They are giving us food and a safe place to sleep to recover, the least I can do is speak nicely to them and make sure they don't insult you in plain view." Bilbo replied back with a no nonsense tone that he seemed to use when settling disputes. It was a tone that all the Dwarrow have heard before from Balin and any advisor.

Thorin simply stared down at the hobbit with new eyes. Once again, the small being next to him had surprised him and ripped away the soft creature he had first seen. Before him he did not see a simple grocer but a warrior like he and the question was once again on his tongue.

Did you mean what you said when you called me Mamahbanmûn?

"Just let him be Thorin, if all goes well then we can do what Gandalf wanted and be on our way." Balin advised stepping up to Thorin's side just as he opened his mouth.

"He's right. The Hobbit's been helpful, we'd be treated worse than what we have now if he didn't step in. Let him lead for now, he's proved to be a warrior." Dwalin grunted out from Thorin's other side, slowing his walk and in return, so did Thorin and Balin, letting the others go ahead.

They walked in silence around repetitive hallways until they got to an open balcony set with greens and waiting elves.

"Welcome Thorin, son of Thráin and his Company." Elrond greeted as he stood from his seated position at the head table. One side of him was two elves, twins and beside them a pale haired elf that seemed to shine with the setting sun.

Thorin frowned and stepped forward, a head of his company.

"I do not believe we have met." He gritted out, trying not to growl as he saw the Hobbit's and Tharkûn's look.

"You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thrór when he ruled under the Mountain." Elrond replied simply, watching as Thorin's eye twitched and hands clenched.

Thorin blinked and looked down as he felt a hand touch his arm, his eyes trailing from the slim fingers up to the hobbits bare face and pleading eyes. "Indeed. I must thank you for your hospitality."

The other Dwarrow felt their jaws drop open in shock and whipped their gaze between their king and burglar to the surprised Elves and Wizard. The Burglar had managed to make their king be courteous to an Mebelkhags with a touch alone. Fíli and Kíli were staring at the hobbit with such wide eyes, as if they had seen Mahal himself while Nori was at the back with Bofur and Bifur making bets once the shock wore off.

"There is no need. These are my sons Elladan and Elrohir." Elrond introduced, the twins bowing in tandem. "This is Glorfindel."

The elder Dwarrow's blinked and sung their heads around to the fair-haired elf that was glowing in the setting sun with shock and hidden awe. Glorfindel the Balrog Slayer was known by all races as the only one to be re-embodied by the Valar long after his death for his noble actions, valour and bravery.

The company all joined the conversation now at Bilbo's stammering. "Oh, OH! I do apologise, my mother would be lecturing me from Yavanna's Garden for my lack in manners. I am Bilbo Baggins, Son of Bungo Baggins and Belladonna Took of the Shire."

The four elven lords seemed to smile as one. "You are Bella's son then?" One elf twin asked with excitement.

"Of course he is! He just introduced himself as such!" The other replied and in that instant many of the Company had a sense of doom settle over them. There before them were the elven equivalent of Fíli and Kíli.

"I am sorry for your loss; I was in the north when news of her death reached me." Glorfindel replied, standing from his spot and moving to kneel before Bilbo. "She was an amazing woman and a good friend; I look forwards to getting to know her son."

A shout of outrage, unknowingly coming from Thorin, was heard over the others as the elf leant forward and rubbed his nose with the Hobbits who began to splutter in surprise and delight. The elf chuckled as he leant back and stood, casting an amused glance to the Dwarrow's as he made his way back to his seat.

"Stop! STOP will you? He did no offensive act; that is how kin say hello or goodbye in the Shire, much like your head knocking." Bilbo explained, soothing the angry Dwarrow's with a frown. What on Arda has gotten into them?

They went to ignoring him, insulting him in their own language when they thought he couldn't hear or understand them to this. They were kinder, pulling him into the middle of their protective circle and they were now angry on his behalf on some misconception.

"Shall we dine?" Elrond asked as he gestured to the empty table just as trays of meat and other hearty dishes get delivered.

Bilbo smiled while rocking back and forth on his feet. "We'd be delighted, I am starved."


Author Note: Well here is another chapter! I hope you all are enjoying the story so far! Thank you for all who've left Kudos and has subscribed, commented and bookmarked! You guys keep me motivated!

And I also have a little soft spot for Glorfindel, I love seeing him being portrayed as a kid-at-heart.

Mebelkhags - Elf (impolite term)
Mamahbanmûn - He who is (or has been) made beautiful.

Chapter Text

Title: A Cursed Blessing
Pairing: Bilbo/Thorin

Summary: In time of great change a Prophet is born, selected by one of the Valar. When Bilbo is born, he had the markings of the Prophet but it was not One of the Valar that had chosen him, it was all.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing the characters of Tolkien; I do not own them unfortunately…

Author Note: Bold Italic is Khuzdul, Italic is Sindarin, Bold is Black speech and anything between }…{ is Green Tongue.


The Company were upset, more than upset really as the second the dinner was over, the elves stole their burglar who was more than willing to go with them. His face was twisted in a look of awe as he stared up at the three that took him and whatever they were saying in their uppity language.

"Enough, it is Master Baggins wish to speak with them." Thorin snarled, though he was not happy either at the Halfling as he wished to speak to him and for the burglars taste in elves but it was the hobbits choice.

"But he is our hobbit!" The snort that followed the statement had nearly all the arguing Dwarrow come to a complete silence and face Bifur, who was calmly carving a toy in his hands. The Ur family and Nori were the only ones who didn't seem to worry about their hobbit.

Glóin frowned. "What is so funny about that?"

"Simply that you only care now that he has proved to be a terrific fighter, negotiator and the fact he is friends with elves. You had no problem insulting him yesterday or the day before that. You are acting like jealous Dwarflings who got their shiny rock taken away." Bifur grunted out with a shrug before returning to his carving, all eyes swung to Bofur as the toymaker slash miner spluttered before bursting out in laughter.

"Aye cousin, tha' they are, tha' they are." Bofur chuckled before turning to face the company with a serious look that didn't belong on the usually cheery face. "But my Cousin is right, you did nothin' but insult Bilbo all the way 'ere till he proved to be a valuable warrior. Upset him it did, he don'ave to understand our language, but seein' you all look at 'im and laugh gave it away."

The others went to protest but snapped their mouths shut when they realised that every one of them but the Ur brothers and the Ri brothers said something harsh about the hobbit while on the road. That would explain the odd look they got before dinner from the hobbit.

"Not only that, beside my kin and the Ri family, you don't speak with Bilbo." Bombur spoke up from the fire where he was cooking the last of their meat provisions. "You don't trust him, he can see this. He is not your hobbit or their hobbit, no; Bilbo will not stay here with them and abandoned us."

Thorin frowned at the cook, it was surprising to hear him speak as he was usually a shy Dwarrow and was content to keep to himself and his kin. "What makes you so sure?"

Bombur shrugged towards the kin, a glint in his eyes as he cast them all a look. They could tell with that look alone that he knew why Bilbo wouldn't leave them and yet wouldn't utter a word about it. If that's one thing they knew about the barely spoken dwarf was that he wouldn't share another's secret.

They knew bits and pieces of why he was coming of course, but the true honest reason they did not.

The company was silent as they sat around the fire, each lost in their own thoughts about the hobbit or their loved ones. It was Nori who had snuck out of the room, giving Dwalin a look as he was the one on guard and decided to go and find their burglar or well see if he could acquire more things. It was only when he found himself an hour later back at the door that he had escaped from did he admit defeat, the bloody place was confusing, the hallways looking the same no matter which corner he turned down.

"Any lucky?" At Bilbo's voice Nori jumped, whirling around with surprised eyes.

"How'd you sneak up on me? No, never mind." He rushed out causing the hobbit before him to smirk.

"I've been following you since the garden terrace, I was curious and well, you looked lost." A sheepish look crossed Bilbo's face. "That and I needed to escape from the twins; they're just as chatty as a fauntling with candy."

Nori felt his shoulders relax and let a chuckle escape his lips. "Let's pray to Mahal that they and the princes never meet."

"I and Elrond can agree with you on that. What are you doing lurking about Nori?" Bilbo finally asked with a raised brow, watching amused as the thief's face tinted pink below his beard. He didn't wish to embarrass him further yet, so Bilbo pushed the door open to their quarters and paused as every set of eye snapped up to him.

"Where have you been Master Baggins?" Kíli asked from his spot by his brother, the others echoing his questions in their own way with a tint of suspicion lacing it.

Bilbo blinked and then frowned. "I was with Elrohir, Elladan and Glorfindel."

The King-in-Exile moved closer to the hobbit as he moved towards the back corner of the room in which he claimed. The question was on his tongue, one that he needed an answer to… Did you mean it when "Fraternize with elves now Halfling? I forbid you to be near them…" you called me Mamahbanmûn?

The fury that shone in the hobbit's eyes had instantly unsettled Thorin and many of the others, but while the others stepped back, Thorin dared not move, only narrowing his eyes down at the hobbit before him. He didn't know why he uttered those words but he suspects it was from the agitation he felt by the looks the hobbit gave the elves… why couldn't you look at me that way? Like you did back in the cave…

"I'm sorry what was that? I thought you just forbade me on speaking to the elves." Bilbo seethed. "I am also a hobbit, not a Halfling… Hobbit's are half of nothing."

"They are traitorous tree-shaggers; you have no need to speak to them!" Thorin yelled back, ignoring the looks and gestures to stop from Balin.

Bilbo straightened to his full height, though it was nothing compared to a Dwarf, but he would be the height of Ori when standing straight and poked the stubborn dwarf in the chest furiously. "I have every right to speak to them, they are my mother's friends, and they were telling me stories of her adventures here and with them that I have not heard. They also treat me like I am a competent being and not just a useless sack of potatoes; they treat me like decency and right now, I prefer their company over yours Thorin Oakenshield!"

Kíli and Fíli whipped their heads side to side with wide eyes; they had never seen someone speak back to their uncle that way, beside their mother. Not even Dwalin or Balin spoke to Thorin that way and they were kin.

"Where are you going Halfling?" Thorin demanded, unable to stop himself as the hobbit yanked open the door to leave.

"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense." He called over his shoulder, repeating the blasted wizard and letting the door slam closed.

Balin sighed heavily after a few tense moments of silence and shot his king a disappointed look. "You heard him when he explained why it's insulting to call him Halfling and yet you continue to do so. He has not once called us anything insulting; in fact he has even called us Dwarrow."

"I did not intend to say what I did." Thorin admitted softly, turning to look at his eldest friend, he didn't like the all-knowing glint in Balin's eyes. "Nori, follow him, make sure that he comes back."


Bilbo huffed angrily as he stormed down the halls towards the library, he knew at least there he would get quiet, only that hope died when he opened the door to see Glorfindel sitting at the table a soft smile on his face.

"Were you eavesdropping?" Bilbo asked as he took the empty seat across from the elf.

"You were not exactly quiet, I was in the gardens when I heard you yelling, thought this would be the place you'd come to." Glorfindel replied before leaning forward a worried expression on his face. "Do they know who you are?"

"What!?" Bilbo spluttered, snapping his wide eyes up at the Balrog Slayer.

Glorfindel chuckled and leant back into his chair, a wide grin upon his face. "Come now Bilbo, near every elf knows who you are. They can sense Yavanna and the power she has bestowed upon you, it is good to see you again my Lady."

It was this time Yavanna who burst out laughing and taking a step into the light. "I should have guessed that you could see me unlike the others, after all you have been bestowed a second life by us."

The Balrog Slayer merely smiled at the Giver of Fruits before facing the Prophet once more. "Do they know?"

"No." He sighed. "Only two do, none have guessed and I know from past experience that not all Dwarrow favour Prophets."

This was met with grave silence. "This I know as well, some Dwarrow mainly a few kingdoms of the lower Seven have cursed the Valar beside their maker for not giving them a Prophet in the greatest time of need. The line of Durin has been a mix on this stance, some agree thinking that annihilation of their race and the dragon to be great trouble but others know that it has truly yet to come and you being here proves that." Glorfindel stated seriously, his soft features hard as if it was he who was carved from stone.

"There is much unrest in the world; even I can agree to this, I know the history of all the prophets and then their fate." Bilbo sighed tired, he had known all and if he desired to, he could view the memories of them but he'd rather not.

Glorfindel's face seemed to melt from its harshness to weary sadness. "I too know a Prophet's fate. I was friends with Thengyril, Durin and Rahim it was a harsh blow to watch their fate. Do you know the real reason for their death Bilbo?"

The hobbit shook his head. "All I know is that they died in great battles or disaster."

"They died protecting the ones they loved above all else. Durin loved his people and died for his people, that is his fate until he find his One again. Rahim had died protecting his friend who he had loved like a brother, they grew up together and he knew the fate of Isildur." Glorfindel explained, his chest tightening as memory after memory surfaced his mind.

"And Thengyril?" Bilbo asked softly watching as Glorfindel closed his eyes and shook his head.

"She died protecting Glorfindel." A new voice states, causing Bilbo to jump in surprise and turn towards the dark haired elf that made his way to Glorfindel's side. "She was for all intents and purposes, his sister."

"I was careless back then and she had taken a sword to save me, my friends name – her Chosen – the last on her dying lips. I have never forgiven myself for that as it was because of I she and Ecthelion had died. I had died not long after that, I had sacrificed myself for my friends and in return wasted the gift Then had given me. When I was sent back, I was displeased but I had sworn never to waste the gift she had given me." Glorfindel explained, leaning back into his Chosen's comforting embrace.

Bilbo's brows rose. "I thought that Ecthelion had died in the fall of Gondolin, slaying Gothmog."

"That is true Prophet but Ecthelion had no will to survive past that, when he fell, he chose not to get back up." Erestor explained.

To this Bilbo frowned, his eyes flicking back to the door that lead down to where the Company now rested, his thoughts centred on Thorin. If this was the case, the fate of a Prophet then they had died protecting those they loved above all. "Forgive me Glorfindel, I did not mean to upset you, if you'll excuse me."

The Lord of the House of the Golden Flower bowed his head to the Prophet, watching with sad eyes as he left the library before turning to his Chosen. Erestor sighed softly and placed a kiss upon his Chosen's brow. "I know what you are going to say."

"I cannot watch another die Erestor, it is worse now that we know he is a hobbit. They are not born and bred like we or Dwarrow, even Men to fight. I will aid them when the time comes, for we know with Bilbo on the quest, there will surely be a war in the end órenya." He replied softly, pressing his head into Erestor's shoulder, suddenly feeling his age once more.

"And I too will stand by you Anarinya." Erestor promised.


It was the next day when Nori finally grabbed Bilbo and yanked him into a hidden alcove away from everything. He had not been able to sleep after the conversation he had heard the night before and had stumbled across this place when he was wandering.

"Nori!? What in the name of Aulë are you doing?" Bilbo asked as he jerked back his arm with surprising strength and straightened out his shirt and weskit.

Nori cast a look around before whirling around to the hobbit once again, deciding not to beat around the bush. "I followed you last night and heard your conversation with the Elf. I know you are a He-Who-Is-Chosen."

The irritation Bilbo had been feeling had been washed away by the sense of dread in a blink of an eye, leaving him weak in the knees. He didn't even bother to try and deny Nori's claims as it would be no use and sat down heavily upon the stone bench.

"You heard all of it then? You know that I am Mabajbûn?" He asked, uttering the word that Nori did efficiently and expertly. It was their word for Prophet, though they never called Durin this as technically he wasn't a prophet but made sure there was a word for one when another's time came. "You cannot tell the others, only Bifur and Bombur know."

This had the thief's brows rising. "Well that is surprising how did they find out? But yes, I heard everything and it does explain a lot of things, like why your dagger has the Sigil of Mahal hidden in the hilt and why you look sometimes when we speak in Khuzdul. Are you the Prophet of Mahal?"

This had the hobbit snorting; something that shocked the thief as Bilbo never did such an act and watched as he began to remove the gloved Vambrace.

"I am the Prophet of Aulë, yes to a degree and Yavanna." Two? But Nori's disbelieving eyes landed on the marks. There was not just his Maker and Lady's on their but all of the Valar.

"Mahal." Nori breathed his legs giving out in shock. "This is bad isn't it? I was always on the fence of the Prophet debate and I can say many of us are besides maybe Thorin, Dwalin and a few who fought in the Battle of Azanulbizar. But, this is bad isn't it for you to be here now and on this quest?"

To this Bilbo nodded. "I came because I was called to do so; this quest is what I was born and chosen for. I cannot see the end of the quest but I know that in the end I will die or the Company if I cannot prevent whatever it is waiting for us at the end." A frown. "I do not know truly but this quest will either tip Arda in the light permanent or eternal darkness."

"Mahal Bilbo." Nori breathed. "I thought it would be my brothers I had to worry about but now you're saying you will die in the end like the others?"

Bilbo twitched his nose and stood up once again, a slight frown on his face. "I don't know, come the others are waiting."

"Go on, I'll be here till I can get my bearings straight." Nori waved off, watching as Bilbo placed his vambrace back on and walked out of the alcove.

"There you are Bilbo!" Kíli called excitedly as Bilbo came into view. "Where have you been?"

"I was with Nori; he wished to speak with me." Bilbo explained, missing the looks that Thorin, Dwalin and Dori shot him. It was only a few minutes later that Nori joined them, still looking shaken and sat heavily by Dori's side, leaning subtly on him for support, shocking the eldest Ri before glancing to the hobbit and back to his brother with question.

"Leave it, just let me sit here." Nori whispered and closed his eyes, letting his guard down knowing that Dori would always protect him but still kept and ear out.

Thorin frowned. Why did Nori wish to speak to the hobbit? Why did he come back with a frown and Nori looking shaken? What had happened?

He would just have to figure it out but for now he had a meeting with Lord Elrond and Gandalf to attend to. He hoped that he would get this map read and they could leave this forsaken place, it was too open and bright, the halls looked the same and the food was bland… Elves.

Author Note: Shorter than the last chapter but it was really hard to write, I tried to write staying at the elven halls from a dwarf's point of view but… you saw what happened… I threw another twist into it and really I ship Glorfindel and Erestor they just fit. I should also mention I see Chris Pine as Glorfindel, don't know why but I do.

OH I ALSO HAVE A BANNER! It's on chapter One and and and I now have a tumblr, just look for my penname. I also was able to make the Valar Marks not all of them but some.


Órenya – My Heart
Anarinya – My Sun

Mabajbûn - He Who Is (Or Has Been) Chosen – My chosen word for what Dwarrow would call a Prophet.

Chapter Text

Title: A Cursed Blessing
Pairing: Bilbo/Thorin

Summary: In time of great change a Prophet is born, selected by one of the Valar. When Bilbo is born, he had the markings of the Prophet but it was not One of the Valar that had chosen him, it was all.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing the characters of Tolkien; I do not own them unfortunately…

Author Note: Bold Italic is Khuzdul, Italic is Sindarin, Bold is Black speech and anything between }…{ is Green Tongue.


On the fifth afternoon Bilbo found himself in one of the secluded gardens of Rivendell, more like a terrace garden of old as he was surrounded by trees and hanging vines. He just wanted some alone time away from the Company and the Elves staring. It was unnerving and irritating to say the least, he knew by now all Elves knew he was a prophet but knew not to say a word at least.

Then there was Nori, unlike Bombur and Bifur, the star headed thief was Mother Henning him something awful. It was close to Dori's fussiness but from the shadows, thankfully he was used to evading relatives.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as someone joined him.

"Sorry, I'm hiding." A new voice stated. Bilbo jerked and stared at the young teen with raised brows.

"You're a Man." The words tumbled from his lips unwittingly, causing the boy to laugh and him to groan.

"I am Estel; this is usually my hiding spot when I'm trying to avoid my brothers." Estel explained turning back to the other occupant of his hiding spot. "Are you hiding too?"

Bilbo chuckled and nodded. "I'm hiding from my company and the Elves, just for now. Oh, sorry do excuse my manners; I am Bilbo Baggins of the Shire."

"Oh, you are the hobbit my brothers were speaking of." Estel replied, his eyes alight in curiosity.

"Your brothers?" The question was full of wariness.

"Elrohir and Elladan," Estel replied simply. "I was raised by Elrond since I was a babe."

Bilbo's brows disappeared into his curls at the news; he didn't know that Elrond had raised a Man in his home, not that he cared but still. It was not often you saw a babe of Men or even Elflings being raised by their opposite unless they were Perehdil and that was clearly not the case with Estel. His eyes turned up to his Mother who was staring at Estel in concentration.

"He is Isildurs heir." Yavanna explained after a short moment causing Bilbo to splutter in shock and stare at the boy with newfound eyes.

"You know who I am then." The sudden seriousness on the boy's face had him reeling in shock. The youth faded slightly into an aura of an adult and Bilbo knew that he was tested.

With a sigh he nodded. "Isildur's heir."

"And you're the Prophet. I am indeed hiding from my brothers but I wanted to see you for myself. It was obvious when you looked up and stared at me in wonder, so I believe you are a Prophet for only a prophet will know who I am beside my kin." Estel explained before smiling. "Aragorn, son of Arathorn at your service."

"Pleasure, please for the love of the Valar don't tell anyone I'm a prophet, the Elves know of course but…" He trailed off with a grimace.

Aragorn nodded in understanding, leaning back against the pillar behind him. "But your Company does not."

"Oh, three of them know it is one of them who I am hiding from, Mother Henning me like a faunt. It was nice at first but suspicious to the others and then down right annoying when I went to go anywhere and he skilfully turned me back to the others. Good Dwarrow he is, no matter his calling, but I'm not a faunt anymore and the others who know aren't so overbearing." Bilbo sighed before looking at the boy once more. "I don't want my company to know because to some, Prophets take a little blame in the suffering of the Dwarrow."

"Well that's hardly fair." Aragorn pointed out with a frown.

Bilbo shook his head. "No, but then it is yes. To them a prophet is to help them when times are tough and there was none for both times the Dwarrow needed one. Now, before you go and say anything its true. They have suffered greatly and by the time I was born, they had reached their destination and settled into the Blue Mountains a fraction of what they used to be."

"You feel bad for that? But Master Baggins you were not born then." Aragorn expressed in sincere honesty.

Yavanna frowned and sat by her hobbit's side, the leaves and vines nearest to her growing more vibrant, thicker and colourful. How had all of them who had interacted with them not notice the guilt he took on upon his shoulder? How had she not seen this?

Now, now she could see the weariness, the sorrow and the torment. But in a blink of an eye it was gone and the mask was back in place with a deep inhale and a sharp sigh. "Being a Prophet to some is like a blessing; to me it is a burden."

"I too know the weight of…" Aragorn began before snapping his mouth shut with a click when the hobbit just shot him a look.

"No, you do not. This gift of the Valar is not a gift but a burden. A curse." Bilbo gritted out with a shake of his head and stood. "I see and feel things I never wish to see, nor did I ask for it. I am a hobbit and yet I crave the skies, the feel of wind rustling my hair and the sense of water surrounding me— I crave that and all that glitter and grow. I feel the call of war; feel the death around me and the grief that goes with it."

Bilbo shook his head as he straightened his tattered coat and weskit. "No, you do not know this burden. Do not try to understand things that you will never understand Aragorn, it'll save you heartache. If you'll excuse me, I must get back to the company before they wreak havoc looking for me."


Even though Bilbo had let his hide out he still avoided the others and the elves to the best of his abilities and with his abilities, Tulkas and Vessas swift footedness and fast reflexes came in handy some times.

But when night had fallen Bilbo was pulled and reluctantly so towards a certain area of Rivendell. When times like this happens he knows that it is because Irmo and Varie's gifts kicking in and telling him that he needed to be in a specific spot and urgently by the constant sharp tugging.

The voices of Gandalf and Elrond arguing reached his ears before he even turned around the corner. The topic of the argument had him on edge as he came to a stop on the balcony, his eyes locked on the Elf Lord and the Wizard.

"Of course I was going to tell you! I was waiting for this very chance. And really, I – I think you can trust that I know what I am doing." Gandalf spluttered as he and Elrond walked across one of the path bridges.

"Do you?" Elrond asked, glancing at the wizard. "That dragon has slept for sixty years. What will happen if your plan should fail? If you wake that beast…"

Gandalf cuts him off. "But if we succeed! What if the dwarves take back the mountain, then our defences in the east will be strengthened."

Bilbo could see from here that Elrond was not pleased by Gandalf's answer and truthfully neither was he. A sense of dread pooled in his stomach every time the dragon was mentioned, he knew that at the end of this journey would lead to many deaths but he could not yet tell whose or if it was his own. When he turned to leave, his eyes caught Thorin's who was standing hidden in the shadows and a sense of shame filled him as he heard the next words out of Elrond's mouth.

"Have you forgotten, a strain of madness runs deep in that family? His grandfather lost his mind. His father succumbed to the same sickness. Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall? Gandalf, these decisions to not rest with us alone. It is not up to you or me to redraw the map of Middle-earth." The Elf Lord explained as he and Gandalf made their way up the steps on the far side of the court.

Thorin sighed and looked away. "And now you know what waits us besides a dragon."

"I do not believe Elrond." Bilbo replied honestly while taking a step forward towards the king.

"Then you are foolish. I fear the madness myself, I have seen it in my grandfather and I know I will fail and fall to the thrall of gold." Thorin spat back harshly.

Bilbo's hand shot out and grasped the fur lined coat of the king-in-exile and with surprising strength to Thorin jerked him down and glared. "Why are you doing this Thorin? Why now are you claiming Erebor? Is it for the treasure horde of Thrór?"

"Of course not! My people are suffering in Belegost, the city is sinking into the ocean and… the mines are not safe, half our people live out into the ocean and are suffering because of it." Thorin replied back tiredly, pained.

"Then Thorin keep that in mind when you reach the mountain, your people and their suffering. Don't think of how the gold will help them or the gold at all; think of the mountain and the home it once was. Think of the dead that must surely still be there and if you do then maybe you won't fall for the thrall of gold." Bilbo said earnestly, placing his hand above Thorin's heart. "You have a good heart, though cruel you sometimes can be. You will be a good king, are a good king and I will gladly follow that king and not one set out for greed."

Thorin did not know what to say, his jaw locked and unable to voice the words he so desired and in that time as he struggled to voice him, he watched with a heavy heart as the hobbit cast him a soft smile, his ringlets glowing faintly in the moonlight with eyes the colour of the purest of emeralds with flecks of topaz.

Bakanijalâgjijiid-aznân… The name struck him like a hammer to an anvil with a force that seemed to knock the wind from his lungs as he watched Bilbo walk away, taking the light with him.

No… There was no way that he heard the whisper, heard the name that Dwarrow's know from birth besides their own. They hear their name from their mother and then later in life when they are still young they hear the whisper of their maker say another name, a name that they all knew was to be the other half of them.

He had seen his Sister receive her One's Name, had seen how the bowl him her hand shattered followed by the brightest smile he had seen since before Frerin's fall. He had seen what that bonding, that knowledge and acceptance does when it is cruelly ripped from a pair. He had seen it in his Adad when his Amad died, in Balin's when his was felled in battle and to Glóin when his One nearly perished in childbirth.

Thorin felt his knees grow weak and soon found himself sitting upon the stone bench just behind him, the very bench he was sitting on when the hobbit came out onto the balcony, his face buried into his hands. He couldn't even ask the questions he wished to ask his burglar, couldn't utter a word beyond insult and honestly… Thorin didn't know how to deal with that information.


Bilbo sighed harshly as he felt himself being pulled towards where Gandalf and Elrond had gone to and away from Thorin. He was not yet finished with the discussion but apparently it was urgent and he could not ignore the look upon his mother's face as she begged him to hurry and warn him that he may have to give himself over to her.

Power rippled across his skin as he made his way up the stairs, his eyes growing hazy as his Mother placed her hand upon his head and silently asked to let her take control. The feeling though uncomfortable and irritated him to no end simply nodded, it must be urgent for Yavanna had only once done this and spoke through him.

"The dragon has long been on your mind." Galadriel uttered, her voice soft while her eyes snapped to the archway with masked surprise as she felt the presence.

"This is true, my lady. Smaug owes allegiance to no one. But if he should side with the enemy, a dragon could be used to terrible effect." Gandalf began, only stopping when Saruman had interrupted with a tone of disguised malice.

"What enemy? Gandalf, the enemy is defeated. Sauron is vanquished. He can never regain his full strength." The White Wizard spat out patronizingly.

Elrond frowned "Gandalf, for four hundred years, we have lived in peace. A hard-won, watchful peace."

"Are we? Are we at peace? Trolls have come down from the mountains. They are raiding villages, destroying farms. Orcs have attacked us on the road." Gandalf explained hard, trying to point out the dangers.

"Hardly a prelude to war." Elrond replied.

"Always you must meddle, looking for trouble where none exists." Saruman spat out, opening his mouth to continue onto his rant.

"No." The word echoed across the room softly like a caress but still seemingly loud.

Gandalf frowned. "Bilbo my boy? What are you doing here?"

Galadriel held up her hand and stopped Elrond from going to the Prophet; she wished to see the outcome. It seemed that Gandalf did not know who the Hobbit truly was and that Saruman could not sense the power of his Vala's wife.

"Olórin's claims should not be ignored, for I am the proof that stands before you that all is not well in the world." The voice, a mix of Bilbo and Yavanna overlayed echoed the pavilion.

Rage flickered across Saruman's face before the white wizard stood. "And who are you to decide?"

Hazy eyes that seemed to glow turned onto Saruman, though he would never admit to the unsettling feeling that he got staring at them or even the sense of shame at the disappointment that seemed to be resting in the Halflings face.

"I have many names and you all know me by them… Ivon, Palúrien, Yavanna but I prefer what the children of my heart call me. Kementári." To this statement she couldn't help but laugh at the stunned faces and turned her eyes back to Gandalf and Galadriel. "I am proof, Bilbo is proof."

"I did not know that Bilbo was the prophet." Gandalf supplied stunned. "Had I known…"

To this the flash of light behind Bilbo's eyes vanished for a second and Bilbo's green seeped back in with a mischievous smile. "It is what I chose, the Dwarrow do not take kind to Prophets."

"Whose prophet are you then?" Saruman demanded, ignoring the looks of warning from the others. "What proof besides the voice of Yavanna?"

Bilbo scowled at the wizard, now seeing the taint that he had felt not long ago cling to the flesh of the wizard like a second skin. He didn't bother to utter his theory or doubt of the wizard but from the look Lady Galadriel gave, she too knew his thoughts and shared his doubts.

"I myself am curious, if not only Yavanna?" Elrond asked with raised brows and a humbled gesture.

He did not bother to tear his eyes away from the others as he began to unbuckle and untie his vambrace before holding out his arm for them to see. "I am not a Prophet of One, but of All."

"Impossible." Saruman whispered but he could see the marks of the Vala on the hobbits wrist and forearm, tied together with Eru's power.

"No, but now I would advise you to listen to me and my Mother. This quest has been set, my fate accepted at the end but you cannot stop this quest, you are not allowed to stop it." Bilbo explained sharply, strongly.

Galadriel nodded in understanding. It was known by all that any quest that involved a Prophet being born for was to proceed or dire things would befall on them all. It was something all had abided by, none willing to risk the wrath of the Valar once more after the rage they had caused in the War of Wrath. None wished suffer that fate.

"Bilbo…" Gandalf trailed off pained, he knew all too well the fate of a Prophet.

A sharp shake of his head. "No Gandalf, it is done. I cannot back away, so I tell you my Lords, my Lady to listen to what Gandalf has to say. If you'll excuse me, I need to return to my company or they will leave without me."

Bilbo did not wait to hear what the others said in return, he left and left abruptly, even going so far as to ignore Glorfindel at his side. "You cannot come with us."

"Is that you or the Prophet speaking." Glorfindel asked with a worried frown.

"Irmo. This quest needs to happen the way it will until Mirkwood, we will meet you there for that is when we will need your help." Bilbo replied with a sharp glint to his eyes that Glorfindel would deem mischievous.

A hum escaped his lips as he led Bilbo to the entrance where Erestor waited with the company. "Then I will meet you in Mirkwood Bilbo."

"Until then Glorfindel." Bilbo replied with a slight bow, jerking when Thorin called for him to hurry. He bid farewell to Erestor as he passed and quickly caught up the company, not daring to look back and see the grief still set on Glorfindel's face… a grief he had tried and failed to hide.

For now, he had his company to worry about.


Author Note: Okay, I didn't know how to write this scene or the others. I think I re-wrote this chapter three times and I still don't like it. Either way, I have a wordpress now, under the same name… I will post the chapters there as well and posts, updates and titbits and AND thank you to whomever nominated me in the Fanatic Fanfic Multifandom Awards for the Best LOTR story.

Chapter Text

Title: A Cursed Blessing
Pairing: Bilbo/Thorin

Summary: In time of great change a Prophet is born, selected by one of the Valar. When Bilbo is born, he had the markings of the Prophet but it was not One of the Valar that had chosen him, it was all.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing the characters of Tolkien; I do not own them unfortunately…

Author Note: "Bold Italic is Khuzdul", " Italic is Sindarin", " Bold" is Black speech and anything between }…{ is Green Tongue.


By the time the sun had peaked over the hills and cast its golden rays over the Hidden Valley, the company of Thorin Oakenshield were at the top of the range that led into the plains and paths that lead to the Misty Mountains.

Bilbo had stopped just near the pathway out and turned his attention back to Rivendell with a frown, something was wrong with the valley. Something dark had crept in beneath the good and now that Bilbo was further away from it he could feel it fully and not manipulated by Elrond's. It worried him that the darkness felt familiar, it wasn't pure but it was a taint upon light, a taint of familiarity.

"Come along burglar." Thorin snapped his eyes narrowed on the half —on the hobbit that stared out upon the elf dwelling while the others walked past. "Be on your guard; we're about to step over the edge of the Wild. Balin, you know these paths; lead on."

Balin nodded. "Aye."

"Best keep up Bilbo, Thorin doesn't look pleased." Bombur whispered softly, pulling the hobbit along with him as he went and frowned as he saw that Bilbo did not hear him. "Bilbo."

Bilbo shook his head and blinked before tearing his eyes away from the view and allowing Bombur to pull him away. Something was wrong; it made his skin itch all over but nothing he could think of what it could be beyond maybe the white wizard. His eyes turned up to his Mother who was scowling into the distance, maybe it could be Curumo but how could the White Wizard allow himself to be tainted?

With a shake of his head, Bilbo focused on the trail a head, sighing when he saw he was boxed in by the Ur's and Nori. He shot them a fond smile and shook his head, he was glad that he had friends… could they be family perhaps? Bilbo eyed them slightly and watched as they adjusted to each step or path he took, even asking him if he was well when he stumbled slightly.

"I am fine you mother hens." He chuckled while straightening his coat.

"HALT!" Thorin's voice called and within a blink of an eye, near everyone was battle ready and scanning the open for any sign of an attack and circled around both Ori and Bilbo as they waited.

Footsteps and hooves, twin raven hair and mischievous smiles, red and pain… "Wait! It's just the twins!" Bilbo yelled frantically just as Dwalin and Thorin tensed to strike as the sound grew louder.

The company stiffened and jerked as the two elf twins stepped out from another path entry with match smiles and ponies, their ponies trailing behind them. Balin shot a look towards their hobbit, how did Bilbo know it was the twins? Luckily he did or their attack upon the two elf princes would have ended badly for them both.

"Elladan, Elrohir what are you doing here?" Bilbo asked as he pushed himself out from the middle of the Dwarrow's protective circle and stared up at the two sheepish princelings. "If you think that you are coming with us then I am sorry to say but that will not be happening."

"We already know this, Glorfindel and Ada caught us. We were instructed to bring you the ponies to cut the distance between here and the Misty Mountains in half." Elladan explained gesturing to the ponies behind them.

Elrohir nodded and bowed his head. "Choice of Ilúvatar, we only come to give you aid."

Bilbo scowled at the name and hoped to Eru that no one in the company but him could understand Quenya. Elrohir the sneaky princeling had called him cilmë-Ilúvatáren in front of the others, with narrowed eyes Bilbo nodded his thanks before turning back to the company.

"Elrohir and Elladan have come to give us aid by returning our ponies. We'll have to send them back when we reach this Misty Mountains and the High Pass but they will cut our travel time in half." He explained watching as the company relaxed, some – mainly the younger – smiled in relief. Maybe even a couple of the others as well, after all no one truly liked to walk long distances, even Bilbo. He had walked a fair amount of course but he knew the path from Rivendell to the High Pass well in his memories and knew it would be further than he had ever walked.

As Bilbo made his way towards his pony his body shuddered and he felt something shift, a niggling sensation of rain and danger. He shook his head and looked at the twins who were watching him with serious eyes and grim smiles, they will be needed. He sighed and waved them over as he began to tie his bags on Myrtles back once again.

"Stay close to Glorfindel and Erestor." He told them before frowning. "No, stay close to Aragorn, he will go west to the Rangers again and you two will need to aid them and the caravan of Dwarrow's come mid-winter."

Elladan and Elrohir frowned and cast each other a look, they were surprised that he knew who Estel truly was but then again, they knew he was a Chosen of Ilúvatar; a prophet. Each gave him a bow, not questioning the command of the prophet; their Ada had taught them well after all and bid their farewells.

The others, while Bilbo was speaking to the elves, gave them sidelong glances as they loaded up their ponies and mounted. They still didn't like the fact that Bilbo knew the poncy elves but they didn't dare say a word for they remembered the rage on Bilbo's face and the dressing down they got from the Ur brothers – for Bifur was more of a brother than cousin. It wasn't pleasant and they had to begrudgingly admit that they had their ponies back; it cut time in half to reach the mountains and give them maybe an extra day or two to reach the mountain before Durin's Day.

"My Husband's children look as if they have had their favourite toy taken away." Yavanna stated with a chuckle as she ran her fingers through the pony's mane.

Bilbo raised his brows and looked up, his eyes scanning the group and smirking slightly as he saw their scowls and side looks before turning his eyes out towards the mountains. }It is not my problem to figure out their problem Mother.{

Yavanna turned onto her Son with a frown. "It will be, my husband's children are stubborn and do not understand. Their experiences on other races have jaded them."

The sigh that escaped the hobbit had the others turning towards him, they were curious on many things. They had seen their mistake and many wanted to ask him questions, like how did he learn to fight, how does he knew how to speak Iglishmêk and the elven tongue… what was the sounds he sung.

"How about a story?" Bilbo asked, watching amused as the younger ones perked up and how the others turned away but curious too.

"Oh, a story would be nice Master Baggins!" Kíli exclaimed excitedly, Fíli nodding his head vigorously as well. "Uncle, can we share a story?"

Thorin sighed and shot Dwalin a glare as his eldest friend chuckle before turning his attention to Kíli. He had every attention of saying no; that they should ride in silence but his eyes caught Bilbo and the words died on his tongue. "Alright but quietly."

Kíli let out a silent whoop before slowing his pony down and closer to Bilbo, Fíli and Ori copying him the best they could with Bifur and Nori surrounding the hobbit while Bofur and Bombur took up the end of the company.

"What story do you want to hear?" Bilbo asked the youngers.

Ori fidgeted and looked at his brothers and the others. "The Elves spoke of a prophet; do you know anything about them?"

Bilbo's and a few of the other Dwarrow's stiffened at that for many reasons, one Bilbo stiffened because the elves spoke in Sindarin and it seemed that Ori knew that and the others because the talks of Prophets were a sore spot.

"You understand Sindarin?" Bilbo asked trying to sound surprised and not panicked.

Ori flushed a little and nodded. "A little, it comes in handy sometimes."

"I know about the Prophets yes… Durin, the great warrior marked by Aulë. Thengyril the elf maiden who had been the prophet of Irmo and Rahim had been born a Man with the blessing of Nienna the Lady of Mercy. I am well versed in the lore of Prophets, their curse and all that entail of being Chosen." Bilbo explained with a shrug but he could see the others were curious and he really wanted to hit Bifur and Nori who were just smirking.

"Is it true they are only born in great need?" Kíli asked with wide eyes while Fíli frowned and looked down.

Bilbo cringed and he felt the guilt all over again and wished he was born earlier. "Yes. It is Eru's will on when a Prophet will be chosen and born. Each blessed by a Valar, Durin was blessed by Aulë; I should hope I don't have to explain that one. Thengryil was the chosen of Irmo, the seer. It was because of her and her Sight that she had saved those she loved, but with the sight came the curse of seeing her Chosen or Brother, her friends and kin dying over and over."

"What happened to her?" Ori asked with a frown, his journal out and his hand flying across the page.

"She died." Bilbo explained abruptly, the memory of Glorfindel's agonised face flashed across his mind. "She died protecting the one she called brother, took a blade that was meant for him and it caused a ripple effect. Her Chosen was Ecthelion Lord of the House of the Fountain, he who had killed Gothmog with the spear from his helmet and fell into the Fountain of the King. They both died there, Gothmog drowned and Ecthelion had no will to go on."

"Rahim was Isildur's friend, a brother in arms and had been by each other's side by birth. Rahim was there when the Last Alliance sieged upon the black gates, the battle was long and when Isildur saw his father die he stood against the Dark Lord and as he too fought and was to die, Rahim took the killing blow and it gave Isildur enough time to use the hilt-shard of the sword Narsil to cut the Ring from Sauron's finger." Bilbo explained and the others had to blink as they saw the haunted look upon the hobbit, watched as his hand rested in the middle of his chest with a frown before shaking the haze away.

"Enough about this nonsense." Thorin gritted out, "Where was the prophet when Smaug came or when our people wandered? We did not need one then and we do not need one now."

"Have you maybe thought that though your people suffering was great, that it was not yet time? Maybe something greater in evil now rests upon these lands?" Bilbo stated and cursed himself as he saw Thorin stiffen and swing around to glare at him.

"We know that a Prophet has been born now, yet where is he Master Burglar? They are not here among us and so our quest to them must seem folly, no, we do not need a Prophet, not now and not ever." The King-in-Exile replied, ending all conversation.

The moon was solemn and Ori cast him an apologetic look which he waved off. They rode on in silence and the only talk he had was with Bifur in Iglishmêk when no one was looking to keep his mind off the silence and the slight hurt. Bilbo didn't know why his chest ached at Thorin's words but he shrugged it off and continued on, only when night began to settle did they rest.

They were near the mountains now, enough that Bilbo could see the peaks in the distance and he was jittery and excited. Something about the mountains didn't sit right with Bilbo as he gazed at them and he could feel oncoming rain as well.

"Something the matter Bilbo?" At the sound of Balin's voice did Bilbo jolt, his eyes turning to the white haired dwarf in surprise.

"There is rain coming and something doesn't feel right about the mountains, I think we should take the lower path." He explained jerking his chin to the path that leads through the foothills of the Misty Mountains.

Balin hummed before shaking his head. "No, the path is dangerous. We had a group of Dwarrow come last spring and they had said the path was dangerous; they lost three of their company. Our only way is up; we'd lose too much time going around and worse if we follow the foothills."

Bilbo wanted to scream at the dwarf, scream that he was the prophet and that the high pass was wrong, wrong, wrong and that they'd have better of a chance in the foothills. But Bilbo couldn't do that, he knew their stance on hobbits, he had seen Dwalin's, Balin's and Glóin's faces during his story telling.

"What can I help you with Master Balin?" The hobbit asked while tearing his gaze away from the mountains once more and gave the dwarf his attention. "It is not often you come to ask if something is wrong."

"Observative." Balin pointed out with raised brows but deep down he could hear Bombur's words back in Rivendell. It seemed that though they claimed Bilbo as theirs, they haven't really at the same time. "I was just curious as to how you knew about Prophets and their history in detail."

Bilbo's whole frame stiffened, his eyes flickering up to his Mother's face. "My mother she was friends with the elves, she knew all their tales and told me. Glorfindel told to me in full as he was friends with all of them."

"Hm, makes sense." Balin replied slowly with a nod before giving the hobbit a small smile. "I'm glad you came with us Bilbo."

The Prophet watched with a confused frown as Balin left, what did he mean that he was glad they came with them? Did he know? Did someone tell him? It was questions like this that plagued Bilbo's mind as he retired to his bedroll in a fitful sleep with his Mother's soft voice in his ears.


Bilbo was right; they should have taken the trails that led through the foothills. His whole body twitched and screamed at him to take another path when they finally got to the path that led up and it only grew worse when he ignored it.

They were half halfway to the peak when the skies opened up and Ulmo's vassal Ossë rained his rage down upon them. Bilbo was nauseous from the chill and the stumbles but the mountain itself felt wrong, it felt dead and empty, twisted… but that wasn't right as well for he could feel the power, the life, voices and many of them. Large and booming.

"LOOK OUT!" Bilbo screamed as he realised too late what it was, his eyes shooting up to the oncoming chunk of mountain. "RUN! DON'T STOP!"

The company for the first time as one, listened to him and ran the best they could while keeping an eye out for more flying rocks. But the flying obstacles was not what Bilbo was worried about, no, it was the very being of mountain below his feet…


"Watch out!" Dwalin yelled as his eyes shot to the air and saw another massive chunk of rock flying towards them and the massive giant that threw it.

"Well bless me, the legends are true. Giants; Stone Giants!" Bofur gasped out in awe, coming to a complete stop to stare.

"Keep running: you'll fall!" Thorin roared as he saw Bofur come to a stop, the ground around him crumbling just as the others yanked him back.

"RUN! DON'T STOP!" Bilbo snarled as he bodily shoved himself into the others to keep moving. MOVE WE ARE ON ONE!"

The words registered briefly as the company came to a halt and those that did hear him moved, just before a loud crack echoed over the rumbling sky and battle above them, bringing their attention to their feet. The mountain began to shake and shift, a crack forming between the last few of the company who did not make it to the safe part of the trail. Before anyone could react the Ur's, Bilbo, Dwalin and Nori were being pulled away from them on the knee of the stone giant that was not there minutes before.

Nori and Bilbo grasped tightly to one another while Dwalin held fast on the ridge, his eyes locking onto his brothers briefly as they flew past. Each and every one of them praying to Mahal for guidance and safety of their kin, even Bilbo plead to the Great Smith. The stone stuttered and then for a brief second Bilbo felt relief before they hurtled towards the jagged flat edge.


"Bilbo!" The cry left Thorin's lips before he even realised it as he rushed forward, Balin, Dori and Óin on his heels.

"They're alright!" Glóin's relieved voice echoes over the storm but Thorin's eyes could not find the hobbit.

"Where is Bilbo? WHERE IS HE?" Thorin yelled as he scanned the group, his voice loud and furious but all he knew him, knew he was worried.

Ori glanced down as he heard a grunt, his eyes widening as he saw Bilbo's hands grasping the cliff ledge. The young Scribe dived onto the ground, trying desperately to catch the Hobbit only to be a second too late as Bilbo slips and falls another few feet before he catches himself. Bofur landed next to Ori as he saw this, eyes wide and arm outstretched.

"Grab my hand! Bilbo!" He yelled desperately over the yells of the others.

Thorin whipped around and saw Bilbo, his heart hammering in his chest as time seemed to slow. Bakanijalâgjijiid-aznân… The name was once again whispered across his mind and in a brief moment, when the world tilted and stilled that he knew his Maker had spoken. Save him…

He jumped, his hand catching the jutting rock he could have sworn was not there seconds before and grasped Bilbo as he slipped and swung him up into Ori's and Bofur's waiting hands. Thorin's eyes flashed as he felt his own grip slip before sighing in relief as Dwalin grasped his wrist and pulled him to safety.

"I thought we'd lost our burglar." Dwalin gasped out with a slight chuckle, only to stop as he saw his friends face.

Thorin was relieved, so very relieved but he was furious. Furious at himself for this happening, furious that he didn't take another pass and if it wasn't because of Bilbo insisting they keep moving, his nephews would have been in the same position.

"He's been lost ever since he left home. He should never have come. He has no place amongst us." He hissed furious, looking at the pale hobbit and then cursed himself violently. That was not what Thorin wanted to say, with a grimace the King-in-Exile turned on his foot and marched forward, his eyes catching the opening of a cave.

Bilbo stood rooted into the spot unable to move, he nearly died and yet he knew that if he fell he would have been okay. But the words Thorin spoke cut through him, he did not know why but it did and… he shook his head vigorously as the rain thrummed in his ears. He could see Nori speaking with him, Bifur slightly behind him and signing but Bilbo could not see or think of the words.

Danger… His mind scream, his arm burning painfully and as the others frogmarched him to the entrance of the cave did he protest. The cave was wrong, very wrong.

Bifur withdrew the hobbit from the others and pulled him closer to the opening of the cave out of view of the others. "What is wrong?"

"The cave is wrong, we should not linger here Bifur." Bilbo explained his eyes wide and panicked. "I can't tell what it is but the rock feels wrong."

The look the toymaker gave to Bilbo was one of understanding, he too could sense the rock was wrong and a quick glance to Bofur who had a frown on his face as he stared at his feet, also proved Bilbo correct.

"The cave doesn't feel right." Bofur supplied just before Thorin opened his mouth. "The stone feels wrong, I can't put my finger on it but something about this cave isn't right."

"We will rest for a few hours then and move on, rain or not. Bofur you take the first shift, any sing or inkling you feel that something is wrong wake us." Thorin ordered before slouching down tiredly, his eyes casting towards where he could see Bilbo and Bifur begin to settle.

"You were harsh uncle." Fíli murmured slightly, causing the king to tear his eyes away from the hobbit to his sister-son. Thorin had to blink and blink again for the face he didn't see was Fíli but Frerin and didn't that hurt.

"I know, I did not mean to say those words." He admitted just as soft, his eyes flickering to Kíli's sleeping form and Balin who was snoring away with Dwalin. "I was worried."

Fíli's stern look melting into one of understanding. "Then maybe try to stop insulting him."

Bilbo shifted and stood up from his spot between Bifur and Bombur, his pack in hand as he made his way towards the cave. Thorin was and wasn't right, he has been lost and he had no place amongst them really as a hobbit in amongst Dwarrow. But he was the prophet, their prophet, so he would leave and go on without them for now.

"Bilbo? Where are you going?" Bofur asked jerking to his feet.

"Leaving, going forwards." Bilbo replied, his feet rooting to the spot and he frowned down at them as he tried to ignore the pulse in his arm.

"No, no, you can't go out there now, not without the Company. You're one of us." Bofur explained, trying to keep the hobbit in side. They needed him and he didn't really want to lose another friend either, Bofur liked the hobbit, he was the only one who didn't look down on Bifur, who didn't treat them any differently.

He just sighed dejectedly and turned to face Bofur. "I'm not though, am I? Thorin said I have been lost, and he was right. What am I doing here Bofur? I'm going to die in the end due to my curse…" Bilbo trailed off, his jaw snapping shut with a loud click as he realised what he just said.

"What? What's that?" Bofur asked changing his question as he eyed the blue glow from Bilbo's hip.

Bilbo's head jerked down in panic watching as cracks form in the sand on the floor of the cave before his eyes locked onto Thorin's. They knew what the sword glowing meant and now Bilbo knew why the cave felt wrong, why the rock felt wrong…

"Wake up! WAKE UP!" Thorin ordered loudly, his hand grasping his sword.

But it was too late, Bilbo thought jut as the floor gave out from under them.

Author Note: Holy, I am so sorry for the delay, I just didn't know how to write this scene. I wanted to change it and yet keep it the same, I had to set myself up for the following chapters after they escape.


Ilúvatáren – of Ilúvatar
cilmë - choosing, *choice
cilmë-Ilúvatáren – Choice of Ilúvatar

Chapter Text

Title: A Cursed Blessing
Pairing: Bilbo/Thorin

Summary: In time of great change a Prophet is born, selected by one of the Valar. When Bilbo is born, he had the markings of the Prophet but it was not One of the Valar that had chosen him, it was all.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing the characters of Tolkien; I do not own them unfortunately…

Author Note: " Bold Italic is Khuzdul", " Italic is Sindarin", " Bold" is Black speech and anything between }…{ is Green Tongue.


The first thing besides the pain of impact was the smell, besides the smell of the company Bilbo could clearly smell the stench of rot, it made him gag and quiver. Groans reached his ears and screeches, the groans he knew but the screeches were new and when his eyes shot up he would forever deny the string of curses that left his mouth when he saw goblins.

"Get up!" He urged, repeating it over and over again as he tried to dismantle the Dwarrow pile.

"By the maker, get UP! GOBLINS!" He hissed and in a blink of an eye the company were on their feet and battle ready, only it was too late for a few seconds later the goblins were upon them.

Bilbo grasped the handles of his bardiches tightly before swiping them upwards as the goblins went to grab Ori. He slashed out with the ferocity of a dwarf, the grace of an elf and swiftness of a hobbit. He will not let these dark creatures hurt his company.

The Dwarrow's at Bilbo's action and snarl jumped to their feet and joined in the fight the best they could before another wave of the filth attacked. There was no hope of winning, fourteen against a legion, so it didn't surprise them when they were overwhelmed by the Goblins and found themselves shoved and pulled through their kingdom.

Bilbo wedged himself between Bifur and Nori, his eyes scanning the rickety bridges and cringing at the noise. It was grating to his ears, even more so when he could hear better than the others, it also didn't help that the mountain was sick… sick from the disease that was the goblins.

"Are you well Bilbo?" Bifur asked worriedly as he saw how pale Bilbo was.

The Prophet shook his head vigorously. "The mountain is sick, dying. The noise above its pained moans hurt my ears."

Bifur and Nori share looks over Bilbo's head as they steady him, Bifur too could feel the sickness of the mountain and the others could sense something was wrong but the fact that Bilbo could feel it dying was a little worrying.

"Oh Mahal…" Nori breathed out as his eyes landed on the big, grotesque goblin before them. Wincing at the grating sounds of metal and screeching of the goblins around them, Bifur quickly covered his own ears as the sharp twisted sound of horns cracks though his skull.

The company came to a halt before the beast, completely ignoring the song or whatever it was that these beasts classed as a song and ducked when the foul beast before them spun around, his sceptre swinging over their heads dangerously.

"Clish, clash, crush and smash

Bang, break, shiver and shake

You can yell and yelp

But there aint no help

Pound pound, far underground

Down, down, down in Goblin Town"

"Catchy, isn't it? It's one of my own compositions" The Goblin King stated proud before staring at the prisoners before him. Bilbo felt his hand come up to cover his face, be it to block out the smell or hold in the retort while his eyes scanned the area around them for any sign of a path that would lead them to safety.

His whole body ached and the marks burned on his arm, a sense of dread pooling in the pit of his stomach, he needed to find an escape and quickly.

"That's not a song, it's an abomination!" Cried Balin, making the company cheer on with their agreement.

"Abominations, mutations, deviations…that all you're gonna find down here." The Goblin King replied.

"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom? Spies? Thieves? Assassins?" The Goblin King asked, his foul breath fanning across their faces, causing some of the Dwarrow's to gag. It smelt like rotting flesh and blood that has been curdling in the hot summer's sun.

"Dwarves, Your Malevolence." One of the Goblins replied.

The Goblin King eyed the prisoners with wariness. "Dwarves."

"We found them on the front porch." The same goblin replied nervous.

The Great Goblin eyed them once again; dwarves were known to carry many weapons. "Well, don't just stand there; search them! Every crack, every crevice."

Bilbo felt his heart pick up as his body screamed at him to do something but he was also rooted in spot. There was no escape, but he had to delay, he just had to give his company time and then everything would work out better.

Though he was surprised that the goblins didn't take his weapons or even seem to get near him, tilting his head up he could see why, the Ur and Ri clan had circled around him, blocking him from being assaulted. With a flash of guilt and warmth he removed his bardiches and handed one to Bifur and the other to Nori before slipping forward as his eyes landed on Thorin.

The Goblin King couldn't know Thorin was amongst them, something bad… it was bad…

"What are you doing in these parts?" the Goblin King asked eyeing the group.

Thorin went to move to speak, stopping as both Bella and Óin still him and pushed him back. "Don't worry, lads. I'll handle this," Óin offered.

"No tricks! I want the truth! Warts and all!" The Goblin King demanded.

"You're going to have to speak up. Your boys have flattened my trumpet." Óin explained as he held up the squished metal causing the Goblin King to sneer.

"I'll flatten more than your trumpet! If they will not talk, we'll make them squawk! Bring out the Mangler! Bring out the Bone Breaker! Start with the youngest." The Goblin King roared to his goblins while pointing to Ori and Kíli.

"WAIT!" Bilbo's voice cried out and he cursed himself for it. His eyes closed shut as he pushed his way forward, practically tearing the hands of his friends away from him as he walked forward. He knew, he knew that the others would talk and Thorin would step forward to speak but Bilbo couldn't allow that… Just a little more time…

The Goblin King leant forward and narrowed his eyes at the small being, poking him in his chest. "And what are you?"

Bilbo shuffled and shrugged. "I am a hobbit."

"And what is a hobbit?" The beast replied causing Bilbo to scrunch his nose in distaste. The company watched in horror as their burglar spoke towards the foul beast.

"Oh hobbits are many things, we like tea and gardening, sunshine but I'm not like most hobbits, I have a little extra to me." He began to explain, completely ignoring the others behind him as he grinned up at the Goblin King. Oh he was afraid, he could die here but this… he can't let it show.

The Goblin King frowned and leant forward more. "Oh and what would that be?"

Thorin felt his heart speed up and hand clench, his eyes flickering to this burglar and the Goblin King. Bakanijalâgjijiid-aznân… Bakanijalâgjijiid-aznân… Bakanijalâgjijiid-aznân… Bakanijalâgjijiid-aznân… The name repeated over and over again with more urgency, it drew the word 'wait' from his lips and pushed his feet forward to near his burglar.

Bilbo felt his eyes slip close in exasperation.

"Well, well, well, look who it is. Thorin son of Thráin, son of Thrór; King under the Mountain." The beast finished with a mock bow causing Thorin to clench his teeth and hold his anger at bay. "Oh, but I'm forgetting, you don't have a mountain. And you're not a king. Which makes you nobody, really. I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just the head, nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak, an old enemy of yours. A Pale Orc astride a White Warg."

Thorin jerked his head up in disbelief, Bilbo grasping Thorin's arm in warning before letting go. "Azog the Defiler was destroyed. He was slain in battle long ago."

Green stormy eyes slip shut and Bilbo felt his body move, he could not allow that messenger get to the Orc, couldn't allow Thorin to die here… the quest must continue onwards.

Before anyone knew what was happening Bilbo was moving, Orcrist grasped tightly in his hand and slashing up towards the Goblins near him and watching the domino effect that he had hoped would happen, the rope holding the messenger snapping by the force of the goblins he tossed up and down into the darkness.

There was a beat of stunned silence before the Goblin King jumped up onto the twisted throne with a cry of fear and pointed to the sword he held in his hands. "I know that sword! It is the Goblin-Cleaver, the Biter, the blade that sliced a thousand necks. Slash them! Beat them! Kill them! Kill them all! Cut off his head!"

Bilbo moved with precise precision, letting his body twist and move the way it wanted it to before relinquishing the sword just in time for Thorin to take and attack. Thorin spun, culling those around him before spinning back towards the hobbit, his eyes widening in horror, free hand outstretched as he tried to catch Bilbo as he and the goblin began to topple.

"BILBO!" He screamed as he watched the hobbit's eyes slip close in resignation and fell into the depths below.


Coming back into consciousness hurt, though Bilbo didn't know how he was awake after all he did remember falling into the abys thinking it was his end.

"You will not die today earth-son." A deep voice whispered into the darkness and causing Bilbo's eyes to snap open. He knew that voice; there was no mistake of knowing the deep strong clang of Aulë's voice.

"So you saved me Stone Father." He chuckled before sitting up with a wince and raising his brow at the slightly luminescent mushrooms that gave the cave he fell in an eerie glow. Though he quickly pushed himself back down into the depths of the fungi as he saw and heard something moving, and talking just at the edge of his alcove.

Harsh breathing, a purr to his ears and a raspy cough that sounded wrong. 'Gollum, Gollum.' It croaked, a wet sound that made Bilbo shudder as he peered out between the gaps of the mushrooms to see a wraith like creature beating the now twitching and conscious goblin.

A fleck of gold caught Bilbo's eye as the wraith jumped and brought the rock down upon the goblin over and over again. It was something that Bilbo didn't expect to see in the dark caves, or falling from the wraith itself, he wouldn't have seen it at all if not for Varda's gift to see even in the darkest of places.

When the wraith had dragged the goblin away Bilbo retreated from his hidden spot amongst the fungi and grasped the hit of his sword. He kept his ears tuned to the sounds while his eyes stayed firmly locked onto the small fleck of gold amongst the black stone and blue glow.

"How odd…" He trailed off, seeming entranced as he moved to touch the ring. Though the second his finger brushed the surprisingly warm band, it took all his will to not scream out as fire danced behind is eyes, his teeth biting clean through the skin of his lip.

Harsh breaths escaped past his bloody lips as he got his heart under control and stared down at the ring in horror. He knew that ring, knew that power from memories of old. How had the wraith come by the One? How had it bared to touch the metal and not see the fire, the darkness… or feel that heat and death?

"Oh sweet Aulë, give me strength." He breathed out in shock, calling upon the Stone Father once more for strength. Though he knew that he should be praying for Tulkas as it is he who held the strength, though maybe it was because of his Dwarrow that he prayed to the Stone Father as it is he who made them to be strong like the very stone they were crafted from.

"I will aide you Earth-son, for you will need my strength to carry the burden of the One." Aulë rumbled steadfast, if not a bit sad. To Aulë or Mahal – depending on who you spoke to – now knew why a prophet was born. He had hoped it was because of the suffering of his children, the need to get their home back and rid themselves of the dragon and sickness. To make his children thrive once more, once the mountain heart was replaced.

But with the return of the ring, the One… the very twisted metal and darkness of Melkor's protégée harshly ripped that hope away… he should have known that his father would not demand a blessing from each of his children unless it was dire. After all if it were not for his wife, he would have had to destroy his children under his Father's command.

Bilbo tore his eyes away from the ring and faced the Stone Father in concern as he took in the sudden silence and unusual quiver that rested under the strong voice. The prophet could see the worry in Aulë, could see the Vala in deep thought as well.

"The cold hard lands, they bites our hands, they gnaws our feet. The rocks and stones, they're like old bones, all bare of meat. Cold as death, they have no breath, it's good to eat!" The sound of singing drew Bilbo closer to the smell of still water and death, rotting flesh and decay.

In the middle of the lake Bilbo could see the outline of the wraith, singing gleefully as it bashed the rock down still over and over. The blue shine of his sword flickered several times before sputtering out, this caused Bilbo to look up upon the rock once more and freezing, the goblin still lay twisted at the top but the wraith was gone.

In a blink of an eye the wraith was before him, his sword pointed at its throat. "Aaahh. Gollum. Gollum. Ack"

"What are you?" He murmured, cocking his head to the side as he finally took in the features. It wouldn't be taller than him, large eyes and feet that reminded him of his people. Bilbo's heart dropped as he sensed no true evil in this being, just taint above a light oh so familiar.

The creature, Gollum, rasped out a wet cough as it stumbled back. "It asks us what us is, what is us precious?"

"I am glad my wife cannot bear to enter this mountain, for she would surely weep at the creature before you. She would weep for the loss of her child." Aulë murmured, his eyes sad as he stared at the being before them. He could see his wife's magic deep within the darkness that twisted this being, no, he is glad that she was not here.

Bilbo blinked in surprise before snapping his head back to the creature, his own heart weeping as he realised what Aulë had meant. The large eyes, the pointed ears and large feet. "It is a hobbit."

"Hobbitses? What is a hobbitses?" The wraith – hobbit – asked.

Something deep within Bilbo ached at the words, the being before him was of his own kind and knew not of what it was. It was childlike and twisted; a broken creature that now was subjected to darkness and kept from the light. He could not understand how this had happened, how it had survived in such darkness for hobbits needed the sun to thrive.

"You are." He replied softly, lowering his sword from the wraith. "Or you used to be, what is your name?"

The wraith cocked its head to the side and coughed, the sound still wet and raspy; it made Bilbo's usually strong stomach churn. It rambled, speaking to something that Bilbo could not see nor hear. Gollum… Gollum, the sound repeated over as it spoke to precious, the longer it went, the ranting and the anger Bilbo knew he could not let the creature live like this.

"I hope you forgive me Mother." He breathed out softly before turning his eyes up to Stone Father, he knew the Vala would not stop him or judge him for what he was about to do, but Bilbo needed his guidance in this.

"My wife will weep with the news, much like your heart now does my Earth son, but she will be pained less to hear he has returned to her Garden than be stuck in this darkness. I too would thank you, I could not ask a child of growing things and sunshine perish in something that is my domain." Aulë replied, placing his hand carefully upon Bilbo's head in reassurance and patriarch affection.

Bilbo felt his eyes slip close before he sheathed the elven blade and pulled out his trident dagger made by Aulë. A scream of rage caused him to step back, his eyes snapping open to stare at the creature before him near the water of the lake.

"Where is it? Where is it? No! Ahh! Where is it? No! No!" The creature cried as he scuttled along the waterline, its hands and feet scattering the small stones and clutter of jagged bones. "Lost! Curses and splashes, my precious is lost!"

In a blink of an eye the wraith turned to him, his eyes no longer glinting with innocence and confusion but fury and malice. It stalked towards him clumsily and staggered, alternating between two legs and on all fours.

"He stole it. He stole it! Ahh! HE STOLE IT!" It screeched, throwing rocks towards Bilbo who spun away from each object. "Give it to us! It's ours. It's ours! Thief!"

"I do not have your precious!" Bilbo yelled back before twisting once more and striking out at the large mass lunging towards him. He knew the second his blade tore through the sot flesh as the mass screamed and fell to the black earth in a twisted pile, red seeping and staining into the earth.

Bilbo did not hesitate, he did not want to cause the creature that could be from his kin to suffer more agony, so with tears in his eyes and bile threatening to escape past his parted lips, he thrust the dagger down into the chest of the wraith and waited till the struggles ceased and its eyes turn dull.

"You have shown him mercy Earth Son." Aulë whispered crouching down by the prophets side, hand resting on his back.

The Prophet did not turn towards Aulë, but he let the tears flow free as he wept for the creature. "May Mother's Garden give you peace kin, may you suffer darkness and torment no more." He whispered, his free hand brushing over the wraiths eyes and closing them.

He did not look back as he began to find his way out from the cave, letting Aulë guide him, but something shifted within him and he didn't know if it was a good thing or not.


Author Note: Okay, so this took me forever… I've had a hard time of writing as of late and this chapter kept getting written and rewritten because I didn't like how it was, but enjoy! Also thank you to those who voted for my story in the Fanatic Fanfic Multifandom Awards. A Cursed Blessing came second in the Best LOTR story section!

Chapter Text

Title: A Cursed Blessing
Pairing: Bilbo/Thorin

Summary: In time of great change a Prophet is born, selected by one of the Valar. When Bilbo is born, he had the markings of the Prophet but it was not One of the Valar that had chosen him, it was all.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing the characters of Tolkien; I do not own them unfortunately…

Author Note: " Bold Italic is Khuzdul", " Italic is Sindarin", )) Bold(( is Black speech and anything between }…{ is Green Tongue. Anything Underlined is windspeech or the language of the Eagles.


Nori and Bifur were frantic as they ran through the tunnels, their eyes scanning down every nook, cranny and pathway for their fallen hobbit. They hoped and they prayed to Mahal that he survived the fall, they didn't know the extent of his abilities but Bifur knew Bilbo had a strong sense of stone. He knew that if Bilbo did indeed survive, he would be able to find his way out, Bifur just hoped he came out of the mountain the same way they were.

Bilbo picked up his pace as he felt the dread shiver up his spine, he could feel the sun growing near and he could hear the goblins behind him.

))GET HIM(( A goblin screamed causing Bilbo to shudder once more. He deviated from the path, squeezing through a gap he knew that they could not before crying out as he stumbled.

The world seemed to slow as he twisted, landing harshly on his back. A glint of gold sparkled towards him, above him in the dark, it was a glint he was familiar with and wondered when he picked it up.

Image result for the hobbit eagle gifs

"EARTH-SON!" Mahal's voice screamed before being drowned out by another as he was plunged deep into coldness.

Suffocating coldness washed over him, swirls of smoke and flecks of coloured light. A scream pierced through the haze and it took Bilbo a little bit to realise that the screaming he was hearing was his own. He could see Mahal calling for him, unable to touch him and glowing bright like a well fed fire and crystals caught in the sun.

His wrist burned and with a cry he hastily removed his vambrace from his arm. His markings glowed brilliantly like the souls of their creator. Greens, Golds, Blues, Reds and Grey intertwined and it hurt. Hurt to look at, hurt to touch it.

He needed to move.

Now, he needed to move now.

His legs burned as he began to ran, his hands skimming and body crashing into the walls as he followed his stone sense out towards where he needed to go. It was the only exit out this way and from his hearing and the goblins that chased him, the other way was headed back towards the goblin kingdom.

He hoped beyond hope that the others got out safely.


The others broke out of the caves and the horde following them and into the sunshine. The company could breathe easy but the Ur's and Nori who knew that their hobbit was still inside. There was no way that he could have died in that cave; the Valar would not be this cruel. He deserved to die in sunshine at least.

When they were safe enough away, the Company came to a complete stop many wincing from their long run and fighting while others just heaved and tried to catch their breath. Thankfully the sun was still out for they wouldn't be able to follow until nightfall and that was a blessing from the Valar.

"Five, six, seven, eight...Bifur, Bofur...that's ten...Fili, Kili...that's twelve...and Bombur - that makes thirteen." Gandalf counted before pausing, where is Bilbo?

Panic began to swell in his chest as he scanned the area and saw no hobbit. "Where's Bilbo? Where is our hobbit?!"

The Company looked down or away with scowls or sad expressions. Nori was the one who decided to speak up as the others were too deep in their thoughts, though he wondered the utter devastation that was showing on their leaders face. "He helped us get our weapons before a goblin and he toppled off the bridge."

"What happened exactly? Tell me!" Gandalf demanded, his eyes scanning from face to face worry and fear churning in his stomach.

Thorin couldn't hear over the white noise that settled the moment he relaxed, the image of his One falling repeated over and over again. He felt choked, his heart feeling like a shattered stone as bile burned at the back of his throat. He was so close just a few more inches and he would have been able to save Bilbo.

He just hoped that Bilbo somehow survived the fall.

"We will not be seeing our Hobbit again. He is long gone." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, whether it be in denial or hope he didn't know.

The world of the ring was worse outside than it was inside, he couldn't feel the sun he knew was shining, nor could he smell the fresh air and soil. Thankfully he could still use his stone sense but now everything else was cut off from him, he felt suffocated.

Muted voices drifted to his ears and a wave of relief crashed into him. He could hear the company the closer he got and he knew that they were talking about him, about his fall and what he had done in the Goblin Tunnels. He is long gone… The words where the clearest he heard and from Thorin no less, did he sound sad? With a silent scream he ripped the ring from his finger, his body jerking as every colour, sound and sensation came back.

"No, he isn't." He alerted, with a gasp as he stumbled towards them. The others sagged in relief but a new concern rose as they saw how haggard and twitchy their burglar was.

Gandalf sighed in relief. "Bilbo Baggins! I've never been so glad to see anyone in my life!"

"Bilbo, we'd given you up!" Kili gasped out with a smile.

"How on earth did you get past the Goblins?" Fili asked, his eyes snapping back to the direction he ran from.

Dwalin frowned in worry, his eyes flickering between the hobbit and his king. "How, indeed."

Bilbo's eyes flickered from one dwarf to another before settling his gaze on Thorin. The king's mask was once again in place but Bilbo could see the emotion brewing in the stormy blue eyes, emotion that seemed to cause warmth to flood through him.

"Why did you come back? If you had the chance to escape then why did you come back?" Thorin demanded and held back the flinch as the hobbit's eyes seemed to burn in anger.

Oh no, I've had enough… "Because I WAS CALLED FOR THIS QUEST!" Bilbo snarled. "I didn't want to come, I didn't want to leave my home or for the day you stumbled into my home to ever come; now I had to give up my home to help you with yours! Now I'm going to die on this forsaken quest!"

"What do you mean die?" Kíli demanded in worry as he and his brother watch the hobbit rant. They had seen him fight but they have never seen his anger directed towards any of them.

Bilbo snapped his eyes to the young prince and froze as the words that escaped his mouth caught up to him. He had just told all of them that he was cursed to die on this quest, with a deep sigh he cast his eyes to Gandalf but saw that Balin was staring at him in horror and with a quick glance down at his arm, he knew why.

"He's a Mabajbûn." Balin breathed out in shock. "He's the Mabajbûn."

All eyes bar those who knew already snapped to Bilbo in shock, the words stopped on the tip of their tongue. How? He was a prophet? The irritation Bilbo had been feeling had been washed away by the sense of dread in a blink of an eye, leaving him weak in the knees as howls filled the air.

It seemed they didn't escape the problems that Bilbo felt coming after all.

"Out of the frying pan…" Thorin muttered bitterly.

Gandalf looked down with wide eyes. "…and into the fire. RUN!"

The company ran, zig zagging with each other while throwing back or swinging out their weapons when a snapping jowl of a Warg got too close. Bilbo jumped and twisted over a Warg, swiping out with his bardiche and cutting the spinal cord of the Warg, using its falling body to spring up into the trees.

"Up into the trees, all of you! Come on, climb!" Gandalf yelled as he saw Bilbo's move, before swinging up into the tree himself.

The others quickly help each other up, Bofur using Dwalin's head as a stepping stone before leaping into the nearest tree as Bifur throws his axe at an oncoming Warg before climbing up himself. Dwalin threw up his brother before giving a quick scan for the king and the princes before joining them.

"THEY'RE COMING!" Thorin yelled, warning the others who were still on the ground, his eyes locked on the pack charging towards them.

Snapping jowls of riderless wargs rip and tear the branches below them, panic began to bloom in Bilbo's chest as his eyes catches the very beast that he knew would try to kill Thorin. Azog. As the riders make their way down, the riderless ones begin to fall into a rumbling continuous snarl, drawing the company's eyes to the master.

}}Mother, please!{{ Bilbo cried out as her eyes turn towards the now appeared Vala. }}We need the eagles!{{

Yavanna nodded with a fierce determination and slammed her hands upon the ground causing the trees roots to shoot up and lash out before disappearing. Bilbo knew his Mother will gather the eagles for them, Manwë created them for this purpose.

"Azog?!" Thorin's devastated and disbelief filled tone brought Bilbo back into focus and cursed when he saw the Warg and orc were now nearly upon them.

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((Do you smell it? The scent of fear? I remember your father reeked of it, Thorin son of Thrain.)) Azog taunted, causing Bilbo to jerk his head back around to Thorin in horror and grief. He hoped that the king-in-exile could not understand the black speech but by the look of utter devastation, Bilbo knew that he understood some of what was said.

((That one is mine. Kill the others!)) At Azog's command, the Wargs leap forward and try to climb the trees once again. The trees shook violently at the assault and the Company prayed to their Maker as they struggled to keep their grip. Bilbo willed his Moher to return, willed the trees to keep strong.

But the trees could not bear the weight of the trees and began to topple, causing the company to jump from one to the other and then to the next when that one began to collapse. They all continued to fall until they reached the last tree on the edge of the cliff, all of them breathing heavily, their nails digging into the bark. Bilbo could sense it's strong roots and stubborn nature.

Looking around in desperation, Gandalf spies a pinecone and hurries to grab it. With little thought he pulled it close and blew fire from his staff onto it and blew until it was on fire before throwing it to the Wargs below, smiling as they dash back before grabbing another.

"Fili!" He called, dropping it into the dwarf's hands before lighting more.

Fíli and Bilbo share a smile as they begin to throw the fiery projectiles forwards, though Bilbo winced with every scream and cry of the new awakened trees, he would have to apologise to his Mother when she returned.

The next few moments were of terror and soon Bilbo along with the Company found themselves draped over a cracking tree limb and dangling over a very, very long drop. Bilbo prayed for his mother to hurry, for the Eagles to come as he switched between looking at Ori and Dori who were dangling from the end of Gandalf's staff and the Orc.

Thorin could feel the heat of the flames, hear the cries of his kin but it all died away as he stared at the filth that killed his grandfather… his father. Fury fuelled his actions as he pulled himself to his feet, blade drawn and eyes locked upon the pale orc.

"Thorin!" He ignored the calls of his name, brushed off the desperate hands that tried to hold him back from taking his revenge and in a blink of an eye Thorin found himself charging towards the Defiler, a cry of fury on his lips.

"THORIN!" Bilbo screamed as he watched the white Warg's claws catch the king and knock him to the ground. "MOTHER!"

Yavanna screamed as she dropped from the sky and rushed towards her hobbit, her hand yanking him up from the trees as the King cried out with the impact of Azog's mace. Yavanna watched, her heart breaking as her Prophet ignored her and stared in horror at the scene before them. She knew in that instant that Vairë had woven the threads, Bilbo's fate rested in Thorin's hands and this time she hoped that death was not waiting at the end.

Bilbo seeing the king being thrown caused a haze to settle over him, his hand grasping his dagger as he pushed himself forward. An uncommon snarl upon his lips as he slashed out and removed the arm from the Orc that dared to try and take the Kings head; kicking out to send it flying back towards the White Orc.

Thorin watched this all in pain, darkness looming on his vision. His One was haloed by the firelight, highlighting the gold in his hair and glinting of the blade. Bakani jalâgjiji id-aznân… He would have to thank him…


He stood between Thorin and Azog, dagger and sword now drawn and raised. ((I will not let you kill him filth. The King does not stand alone.))

((You dare stand in my way?)) Azog snarled. ((Kill them.))

As the pack began to surge forward, cries filled the air as Fíli, Kíli and Dwalin rush from the flames. A wicked smirk replaced the snarl on Bilbo's face as he took two steps closer to the King, his eyes locked on the space just behind Azog's head.

The Eagles swept through the battle, picking up the Wargs and their riders before throwing them over the cliff, some managed to pick up the Dwarrow's and toss them onto their brothers backs before returning to the battle or to pick up one of the others. Everyone grasped tightly to the eagles backs as they looked towards their King who lay unconscious in one of the eagles' talons.

((The line of Durin will not fall today.)) Bilbo snarled before turning on his foot and sprinting from the cliff's edge, his eyes clenched shut as he dropped.

Image result for bilbo flying eagles gif

"You are safe now Prophet." A new voice whispered as his body connected with the back of an Eagle, instantly causing his eyes to snap open.

He couldn't help but sigh in relief. "Thank you Wind-Brother."

"Lady Yavanna called for aid, we were glad to help Prophet." The Eagle replied softly, turning its head to see the small being upon his back. "I am Landroval."

"I thank you Landroval, I am Bilbo Baggins, Prophet of the Valar." Bilbo replied with a faint smile, but worry churned deep within his stomach as he turned his eyes towards the eagle that carried Thorin.

Chapter Text

Title: A Cursed Blessing
Pairing: Bilbo/Thorin

Summary: In time of great change a Prophet is born, selected by one of the Valar. When Bilbo is born, he had the markings of the Prophet but it was not One of the Valar that had chosen him, it was all.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing the characters of Tolkien; I do not own them unfortunately…

Author Note: "Bold Italic is Khuzdul", " Italic is Sindarin", )) Bold(( is Black speech and anything between }…{ is Green Tongue. Anything Underlined is windspeech or the language of the Eagles.


Bilbo felt his eyes closed as he spread out his arms and let the wind pass around him. As being a Prophet of all he had the most unusual desires and feeling the wind, the feel of flying was a rare treat. He had unfortunately in his life made quite a few mistakes where he has fallen from high places to just feel and now he can do it safely.

He tilted his head back and let the soft glow of the rising sun warm his face. For once he let go of his worries, of his fear and all that was holding back because of social backlash seemed to drift away with the wind. But it didn't last for long as he heard Fíli's cry for Thorin echo over the roar, it seemed to shatter the peace like broken glass and his eyes instantly snapped to the eagle that carried the king.


"He will need healing, but he is safe in my brothers' claws, Prophet." Landroval explained as he turned his head back when he felt his rider shift.

Bilbo slumped in relief before running his hands through Landroval's feathers. "Thank you."

Though he knew now of Thorin's care, his eyes turned towards the others skimming over the ones he rarely spoke to and locked eyes on Bifur who was thankfully with Bofur. He could see Bombur was on his own eagle as was Nori, good, his little collection of friends were safe and none were overly hurt.

It had been a close call, a very close call and there would have been nothing he could have done to help them. The Eagles came swiftly on the winds call and in time, for if they were a mere second later… if they were a second later Dori and Ori may have fallen… He may have died by the White Orc's hand and then that would be his end even though he knew it wasn't his time.

No, something else lay onwards and Bilbo didn't know what it would be and the ending of it. It unsettled him greatly that he didn't know these things and that his fate still ended at the end. With a tired sigh he pulled his pack around to his chest and looked inside to see what was left, surprised to find the bag long forgotten at the bottom, the one he got while in Bree.

How could he have forgotten these? He had specifically gotten them because he knew that they belonged to the Company be it personally or from one of their family members.

"We are near the Carrock, Prophet." Landroval cawed jerking him from his thoughts.



Bilbo turned his eyes up in surprise, he didn't realise how long he had been in thought, even though it seemed like mere seconds. But there before him was indeed the Carrock and the sky no longer twinkled but shone with brilliant colours only a rising and setting sun could create. He watched as Landroval soared around while the others were placed carefully on the Carrock, Thorin near the middle while Gandalf knelt next to him.

When it was his turn to be placed down, Landroval and his brother didn't leave like the others but waited while three sets of hands helped him down and to his feet. Bifur, Nori and Mother.

"Are you okay? You're not hurt?" Nori asked slightly, his eyes flickering over his own person and his brothers while Bifur just pulled him into a hug and his Mother laughed at the situation. Bilbo just huffed at all of them while his eyes flickered to Thorin who was still unresponsive, he didn't know why his chest ached at the sight.

"I'm fine." He sighed exasperated while pulling out from Bifur's arms.

A sudden gasp was heard and all eyes turned towards where Gandalf knelt next to Thorin.

"The hal-Hobbit?" Thorin asked, remembering the last few glimpses before darkness.

Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief. "It's all right. Bilbo is here. He's quiet safe."

Dwalin and Kíli quickly helped up Thorin as he struggled to get up, jerking their hands back as he shoved them off before advancing on said Hobbit that stood a bit away from everyone with nervous eyes. Thorin had judged him worse than anything… Bakani jalâgjiji id-aznân… Bakani jalâgjiji id-aznân… was a chant in his head that made his guilt double. Fear and horror churned dangerously in his chest as the vision of his One before Azog replayed.

"You! What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed! Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild and that you had no place amongst us?" He roared unable to stop the fear filled poisonous words escaping from his mouth.

Bilbo just shook his head when Bifur went to speak up, his eyes down cast and stepped forward towards the King. He didn't know why he was being timid now but he guessed it was due to what happened before Azog's sudden arrival or maybe it was because deep down the words struck out at him.

Only Thorin had taken him by surprise in the next few words. "I have never been so wrong in my life, I am sorry I doubted you."

Though surprised he may be, that quickly vanished and was replaced by righteous fury, his hand curled into a fist and before Thorin could register the scowl upon his One's face the king-in-exile found himself staggering back as Bilbo punched him.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?" Bilbo snarled, sounding more dwarf than Hobbit in this very instance but Gandalf could only see Belladonna in the Hobbit before him. "YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED!"

"Bilbo…" Someone warned but snapped their mouths closed as the little furious Hobbit held up his hand for silence as he marched towards the king, his finger poking him in the chest with fire in his eyes.

"I know that you have a deep seeded and understandable hate towards that monster, but to go after Azog and his beasts alone and exhausted? YOU FOOL! Your sister-sons nearly watched you die! Your family nearly watched you die! DO you think that it is only YOU who deserves to slay that wretched beast? Fool of a King!" Bilbo snarled and Dwalin did everything in his power not to laugh out loud.

He couldn't disagree though, those short few moments had aged him and he had tried desperately to climb up to help his king… he had thought that he would have watch as the Warg tore through his cousins and kings armour like clay and to the soft flesh below. He would have failed if not for the burglar.

Words from what seems like long ago echoed in his head.

You did nothin' but insult Bilbo all the way 'ere till he proved to be a valuable warrior.

You don't trust him, he can see this.

…you had no problem insulting him…

"He is right Thorin." Those four words stunned the company but stilled the Hobbit's furious tongue at the same time. "You rushed into battle with little food and rest, the fact tha' the Warg got you mere moments after you began t'swing… aye… the lad is right."

Thorin turned his eyes towards his sister-sons. His golden heir with a visage of both Víli and Frerin and eyes like his mother stared back at him, grief and fear shining in them. One hand clutched around his raven brother who's free hand latched onto Ori, lip quivering. A deep pang struck him as he realised what it would have done to the boys, it would have destroyed them like seeing his Grandfather's death or Frerin…

"My boys." He whispered pained, they were his sister-sons but he loved them like they were his own. Víli had always teased him and thanked him but it was a mask to the pain and misery underneath since the accident that cost him the use of his legs.

"Please Uncle, do not… do not…" Fíli stammered out, his eyes closed and hands clenched shut before snapping them open and he no longer saw Dís but himself in those eyes. "Do not do something like that; we could not bear to see you return to Mahal's halls so soon. I am not ready to be King and Rótha and I have yet to be wed."

Kíli could not utter a word, his own hand tightening around his One's while his other hand clenched Fíli's sleeve. Thorin closed his eyes and moved forward, pulling his sister-sons into his arms and whispering his apologies in their ears.

It was a touching family moment that melted Bilbo's ire and he woefully cast a glance to the sky as he felt Ulmo's mark itched. "We need to make our way to the bottom and find shelter, it is to rain soon."

Everyone turned their eyes to the Burglar and then to the sky with a frown. There was only a smattering of clouds in the sky, nothing that would indicate a storm. But it was the Ur clan and Nori who believed him, who didn't hesitate to gather their fallen things and begin for the stairs.


Erebor stood in the distance, a lonely peak surrounded by wispy trees and illuminated by the sun, but the Ur's dared not to be swept up in its beauty, their home and Earth Born Stone was Ered Luin and for Nori, though he was born there… he had never connected to the Stone of Erebor but the wandering of their people.

"It don't look like it's gonna rain." Glóin stammered out as he tore his gaze from his home to the hobbit.

Bilbo rubbed the marks on his arm and frowned. "Trust me, it is building up. Ulmo's mark itches and it only does that when there is rain coming, dangerous storms and waters." His eyes flickered to the mountains they came from to see the clouds gathering slowly. "It's going to be a big one."

"Ah yes… about that." Balin started, stopping when Bilbo's eyes cast his way. "When were you going to tell us you were…?"

"That I was Mabajbûn?" Bilbo replied dryly and this snapped all the others attention to him as the perfect Khuzdul slid off his tongue.

Kíli stepped forward, his hands still clutching his brother and his One, as the question from before popped into his head. "What do you mean die?"

"Look, now s'not tha time t'ask such questions." Nori stepped up, his drawl thick. "Bilbo s'not been wrong so far 'bout rain or dangers so he will answer yer questions when we get to tha ground aye?"

Gandalf stepped in then silencing the rest of the company as they went to argue with a stern glare. "Nori is indeed correct, it is unwise to go against a warning of a Prophet, I suggest we seek shelter."

"There is a cave big enough for all at the base of the Carrock." Yavanna whispered to her Son as he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration at the arguments. With a harsh sigh Bilbo turned on the spot and began towards where Bifur was waiting.

"Will you help me get down?" He asked the toymaker softly in Khuzdul.

Bifur nodded and slung Bilbo's pack over his shoulders as he had lost his own and hopped down the first step, turning to reach up for his friend while raising his brows in surprise as Bofur was already waiting to pass him down.

"Don' look at me like that cousin. I have ma questions and all ready, but I ain't gonna be gathering wool or bickerin'bout it. Bilbo as far as I can see is kin." Bofur stated calmly, watching as his Cousin's and Bilbo's eyes sparked in surprise.

Though Bifur was the eldest of the three Ur's, it was Bofur who was the Clan Leader as it was his Adad who was the eldest of the brothers and really Bifur couldn't really remember most things most days. So him declaring Bilbo kin and meaning it meant a lot, to both Bilbo and Bifur.

"Thank you Bofur." Bilbo whispered touched.

Bofur rolled his eyes and smiled, smacking Bilbo's back. "Don'be, yer done much for my cousin Bilbo. Tha only one who has understood 'I'm and looked past the axe, you didn't talk to him as if he was slower than the rest. But I am curious as to why you got us to translate if you could understand him."

"It's cause he wanted to include us." Bombur stated, causing the three to jolt as his sudden appearance on the stairs behind them, his own hand reaching out to steady Bofur as he wobbled too close the edge. "I've known since the Troll's."

"Oh aye, I see how it is…" Bofur trailed off, removing his hat and mockingly wiped away his 'tears'. "I'm tha last to know, I feel loved."

"We would have told you eventually. Bifur caught me in my home when he asked how I understood him that morning. Bombur caught me speaking to him without you or he to translate and Nori… well Nori is just a plain old sneak and ambushed me in the gardens in Rivendell."

"I did not!" Nori cried in indignation from behind the Ur clan, it was then that they realised that the company was behind them and listening to the conversation. Bilbo sighed and felt his shoulders slumped as he stepped down from Bifur's arms from being helped down another step.

With another sigh he decided it was not worth the arguing about it and he could hear his Mother's giggles from behind them all. "Oh so it wasn't you who pulled me into a hidden alcove? Who had sneaked to hear a private conversation with me and Glorfindel or was that another thief?"

"Well… okay so I did ambush you!" Nori admitted cringing as Dori shot his brother a glare. "Mahal."

"Now why we are on these cursed steps… Why were you not going to tell us?" Dwalin asked.

Bilbo paused once more and whirled around to stare at the warrior and the others with sceptical eyes. "Are you serious? Of course you are… I know the stance with you Dwarrow when it comes to Prophets. I was not born when Erebor fell or when you wandered, I was not born when you had your wars but after."


"What was it Thorin said? They are not here among us and so our quest to them must seem folly, no, we do not need a Prophet, not now and not ever… I left my home because it screamed that I needed to help and this was when Gandalf showed up on my door that morning before you all got there. I am a hobbit and yet I am here trapezing all across Arda with all your grouch and insults." He snarled furious once more. "Now we need to get down to the cave so that storm won't hit us! If we are still on this forsaken rock then one of us will die."

Everyone's eyes shot up when the small hand of their burglar snapped up and pointed to the now grey sky. How did they not notice the sky darkening?"

By the time everyone got to the ground and they had found the cave, the sky had darkened and angered. It looked minutes or seconds away from dropping and everyone was quite thankful when the first crack of lightning flashed across the sky and the wind tore through the trees in a haunted tune. Aggravatingly, Gandalf had disappeared.

Bilbo though sighed and stood at the front of the cave with his eyes closed, letting his body relaxed as he let his senses go free. He could feel his Mothers hands upon his shoulders as she helped him, he didn't have magic like wizards but if he channelled his Mother's powers he could thicken the branches and shrubbery that protected the opening. He wouldn't get wet if he were to step out into the rain, well not like the others but he wasn't going to risk it now.

Fire flared to life, casting the hobbit in a warm glow and the others tried to keep their eyes off of him as he seemed to shine slightly. They had no idea in what he was doing but they would wait for him to be done with whatever it was before they asked questions.

"You may ask your questions now." Bilbo stated softly, tiredly.

"Who knows of you?" Balin asked casting a slight look to his King as Thorin lurked in the corner just barely in the lights reach.

"You all. The White Council, Rivendell – the blasted elves – a few selected Hobbits…" Bilbo explained. "We tried to keep my being a secret with only a select few, my mother did not even send word to the others or even Gandalf about my… curse."

"Then how do all the elves know?" Ori asked in a quiet squeak.

"Because they're nosey and they can sense the magic of the Valar. My markings are a very small slither of their powers, it is like a beacon in the night and once I stepped into their realm, they knew. I was protected by Mother's Barrier in The Shire so others would not sense my power until I was ready." Bilbo explained, expanding the answer when he saw the others to ask the most obvious question. "I have many gifts before you ask and I follow them willingly, I have ignored them in the past and it ended… badly on those occasions. I follow Mother's advice as well, she wanders to see if all is well and if she must speak to the others."

"Mother?" Dwalin asked with a raised brow. It was then the others picked up the way the burglar said the word and that it wasn't the first time they heard the difference in tone.

"Yavanna. I may be a prophet of the Valar but I am a Hobbit. My care falls under Yavanna and if needed Aulë." He was tired, tired of their stares and the questions.

"Can you tell us what gifts you have?" Ori piped up once again shyly, his hand stilling on the page of his book.

With a tired sigh Bilbo sat back against the cave wall, casting a look up to his Mother, with her nod Bilbo turned back to the others. "Irmo gave me the ability to See but it is not a gift I use often or at all. It is a burden and a curse but I don't see all, just snippets and not all of it can be good. Yavanna gave me her gifts to grow and sense the plants, the animals, my hearing is better than an elf."

"What about Mahal?" Bofur asked with raised brows.

"I can understand and speak your languages easily… and… and sense Stone." Bilbo stated slowly, eyeing Bofur, Bifur and Nori.

Nori felt his eyes widen and lean back. "Mahal… Now I know… Goblin Town? You… you were so green and pained…"

"What?" Kíli blurted out. "What happened?"

"Bilbo was sick when they led us to their king. He said that the mountain was dying, he could hear and feel it." Nori explained with wide eyes.

Every dwarf looked towards the hobbit in horror. "You can sense the death of the mountain?"

"Well I thought Bifur or anyone with stone-sense could!" Bilbo huffed.

Óin frowned, holding his slightly battered trumpet up. "Aye, but we cannot hear the dying of our mountain. We can feel the sickness, can feel when it is well and healthy, happy. To hear is very rare and the last one to have the ability was Durin."

"Oh well… I can hear all the stone, the earth, the trees. I've grown used to the voice, the lullaby or the crescendo. Add the soft whispers of the wind, the cry of the rains and the laughter of the starlight. It's beautiful, chaotic and calming." A blush formed on Bilbo's cheeks but he hoped the others brushed it off as the firelight.

"Wait, is yer speed and strength one of these gifts?" Dwalin asked from Thorin's right.

"Well yes, Tulkas gifted me with Strength and agility while his wife Nessa gifted me with speed." A dark look crossed Bilbo's face before it vanished just as quick. "Mandos gifted me with the sense of doom, I can sense if we will run across something bad or not… Vaire gave me the ability to expand Mandos's gift, I can see the paths and which would be lesser or more dangerous. Thankfully I have Este's power to heal small wounds…"

"What is your lifespan?" Óin asked loudly with a curious glint in his eyes.

This time Bilbo frowned and hummed. "I am not sure. Vána gave me the gift of long life, I still look forty and I am fifty now."

Yavanna laughed as she watched the others splutter and big to curse and rage that he was but a mere babe. She had thought her son would be furious but the small relieved glint in his eyes had her stomach clenching. She knew all too well how he hated answering these questions, how he hated that he was chosen.

Soon all questions of him being the Prophet was forgotten when Kíli turned to Bilbo once more and.. god did he look like his uncle in this moment…

"Bilbo, you still haven't answer my question, what do you mean you're going to die?" The question caused the others to stop and inhale sharply, their eyes flickering to Bilbo who was avoiding their eyes.

Thorin felt his chest clench, panic flaring and strangling his throat closed. No, no, no, no, no…

"Kíli… A… Ev…" A deep sigh and Bilbo seemed to wilt before them. "A Prophet is cursed to die in the end… they died in every life, for those they love the most."

Bilbo's eyes flickered up to Thorin who stared at his One in horror before dropping once more and then… it was then that the king knew…

Author Note: Mwahahaha… So so so sorry for the delay guys, holy crap but I was struggling… New fandoms, real life and contest pieces got in the way… but I hope you liked it.

Chapter Text

Title: A Cursed Blessing
Pairing: Bilbo/Thorin

Summary: In time of great change a Prophet is born, selected by one of the Valar. When Bilbo is born, he had the markings of the Prophet but it was not One of the Valar that had chosen him, it was all.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing the characters of Tolkien; I do not own them unfortunately…

Author Note: " Bold Italic is Khuzdul", " Italic is Sindarin", )) Bold(( is Black speech and anything between }}…{{ is Green Tongue. Anything Underlined is windspeech or the language of the Eagles.


The silence grew thick as the Dwarrow around him stared on in horror. Yet Bilbo did not let that bother him much as he dropped his eyes from Thorin's dark eyes. His fingers fiddled with a loose strand of cotton on his jacket, one that signified where his buttons use to be before he remembered the bag in his pack.

"Oh! I think I have something of everyone's." He explained, getting to his feet and making his way to where his bedraggled pack sat.

The Company watched curious as their Prophet dug through his pack with a little frown, what of theirs did he have? Was it something they had dropped along the way that he had picked up or pilfered to test his skills?

"When I was in Bree I stopped in front of this store, for some reason it was important and so I stopped and I entered." Bilbo explained softly as he dug through the bag to card through the trinkets for the bead set. "I do believe these are from the line of Durin."

Thorin, Fíli and Kíli felt their brows rise in surprise as Bilbo opened his palm revealing the marriage beads and deed beads. They glinted in the firelight, enhancing the words carved into them and illuminating the tiny gemstones.

"These are our mother and father's marriage beads; this is our Adads Master bead he had told us was lost and the deed bead that he earned in Azanulbizar." Fíli whispered confused as he took the beads from Bilbo's hand. "I knew mother sold hers to feed us that bad year when Thorin and adad couldn't find work."

A hum escaped Bilbo's lips before he turned to the brothers Ri and rummaged through the bag once again, pulling out a fine silver necklace with a setting of emeralds. He went around to the others of the company before coming to a stop next to Thorin, only one item left in the bag.

"I do not think there is anything we can do to repay you for this Master Baggins." Thorin replied as he eyed the company around him, each huddled close to their kin as they run revenant hands over the heirlooms they thought long gone.

Shaking his head Bilbo turned his eyes away from the company to the king. "They owe me nothing; it is but a small price to pay for their happiness. I was surprised when I saw them and heard the story behind them. It was fate that they remained in that small store for so long."

"I wish to apologise again." Thorin started, pausing as Bilbo held up his hand for silence.

"You don't need to apologise Thorin, you already have. In time I know there is a talk we must have for some reason or another, just as I know there will be more talk about me being a Prophet… but for now, I do believe this is yours." He explained, pulling up Thorin's hand and tilting the last item into the open palm.

Thorin sucked in a sharp breath as he took in the familiar ring that rested in his palm, a tarnished silver band inlaid with an amber gem. He remembered making this ring so long ago, it was one of his first works made specifically for the amber gem that sat in the middle.

"This belonged to my brother Frerin." He explained low, fingering the lines that decorated the band and the silver edged setting. "I had made it for him when I was of age; he found the stone one day by the river and loved it dearly. He lost it once and it caused him to cry for a solid week until we found it. I set it into this band for him to wear."

"What happened if I may ask?" Bilbo asked softly, still he had not dropped his hands from Thorin's open palm.

Casting a look towards the others Thorin turned his attention back to Bilbo, savouring the warmth that spread up his limb from where his small rough fingertips sat. "He perished in Azanulbizar; this was the only token I had left of him as I took the necklace he always wore back for Dís. I had to sell this along with my own when winter grew harsh. I could by my own back but Frerin's was gone, I had thought it lost forever."

"Then I am glad to return it to you," Bilbo replied before reluctantly letting his hand drop. "We should get some rest, the rain will let up soon and we'll have to make a start before the orc's catch up."

There was no reply as Bilbo got to his feet and began to lay out his roll. Even with the joy around him his heart still beat heavily in his chest, he knew that come tomorrow the joy would fade and he would have to face the questions once more. Questions he didn't want to answer nor hear from them but he knew they will ask, why all of the Valar, but he like they didn't know why Eru cursed him with the blessing of his creations.

"All will be well my child," Yavanna whispered softly as she took a seat next to her Prophet, a hand carding through his curls. "Sleep now for tomorrow will be a long difficult journey."

}You're hiding something.{ Bilbo replied with a yawn as he buried under his tattered blanket, drifting off to sleep before his Mother could reply.

Yavanna chuckled softly, turning her eyes to her Husband's children as they spoke amongst themselves or began to follow her Bilbo into sleep.

"Many hardships are yet to come, Muhudel," Mahal whispered as he appeared at his wife's side, something calling him from his halls.

Yavanna turned towards her husband, stepping into his embrace willingly. "That may be so my love but it is Bilbo who will face the worst of it."

"He's strong Muhudel, I helped forge him myself when Eru came to us. He has a spine of Mithril and the durability of my children." Mahal tried to reassure.

"But I made him passionate and kind, Nienna made sure he sympathised with all living creatures of good. He may be durable as your stone-children my love but he still has the heart of a hobbit." She explains softly, turning her attention to her Hobbit and then to the Dwarf that sat across from him, the only one still awake. "I am pleased for who you moulded him with."

Mahal turned his eyes towards Thorin Oakenshield, the son of his first created and smiled. Thorin needed someone who could keep him grounded, to challenge him at every step yet teach him patience and love. Bilbo needed someone to keep him grounded, strong and to give him a purpose."

Sadness crept into the hearts of the two Vala. "Vairë has yet to see the full tapestry for Bilbo, many paths he can take to either his death or salvation. I hope that Bilbo will not suffer the fate of predecessors."

"As do I Muhudel, as do I."


The Company woke the next morning to the smell of food and the low hum of the Prophet as he sat hunched over a cooking pot, his back to them all. Each member sat in silence, shushing the others when they woke and began to ask what was going on, pointing to the hobbit that started to sing softly as he cooked.

If a field of green and where flowers boomed
swayed a maid so fair and true
with golden hair and eyes of blue
She sang a song for her love true
for it was he who ensnared her so

Her love had heard, and come to see
His fair maid so fair and true
He watched her sway amongst flowers bloom
And doth her Chosen's love did grow…

"I know you're all awake." Bilbo stated abruptly, turning his head slightly to look at the gathered company. "It's hard not to when all falls silent, come breakfast is ready."

"What were you singing lad?" Balin asked as he joined the hobbit by the fire.

Casting the Advisor a look Bilbo sighed. "I was singing the song of Thengyril and Ecthelion."

"I have never heard of that song before," Ori whispered from besides Dori with his book open in his lap and scribbling down the words of the song.

Bilbo smiled fondly at the scribe, even though he did not see it. "You wouldn't Ori, only a few know it. Only those who survived the Fall of Gondolin would and not many would utter the words in the presence of others."

"Then is it bad that you sung it before us?" Ori asked once more, worrying the tip of his pen with his teeth. The others waited, pausing mid bite to listen for Bilbo's reply.

After last night, when the hobbit returned them something valuable they thought had been lost, they all wanted to know more of their burglar… wanted to know all they didn't know and were unwilling to listen to before now.

"No Ori, when I mean by others I mean Glorfindel and those close to Thengyril and Ecthelion… those that were close to them. The song became lost after that, a distant memory in others." Bilbo explained before shoving a berry into his mouth and swallowing. "I said before that Thengyril was the Prophet of Irmo… she was also the Heart-Chosen of Ecthelion, the Lord of the Silver Fountain and slayer of Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs… when he was battling Gothmog, Thengyril was rushing towards Glorfindel, taking a death meant for him."

There was a sense of heavy sadness as Bilbo gazed unseeingly into the fire. "She took Glorfindel's death and because the Elves are connected as one when they bind, much like Dwarrow and Hobbits, they can tell when their half dies… Ecthelion's death was written that he had been killed by Gothmog as they fell into the fountain but it was from a broken heart that Ecthelion died by. He felt the death of his Heart-Chosen and simply gave up the will to continue."

"You speak of it with pain as if it was you yourself, lad." Glóin hummed with a slight frown.

"Because it was in some way, it's hard to explain how I came to be chosen or made Balin… But I have the memories of the past prophets, I experience them as if they were my own… Except Durin's as he is unlike the others." Bilbo explained before getting to his feet and gathering the dirty plates from the others. "We must break camp and continue onwards, my arm aches and I'm starting to feel anxious. I don't want the Orcs catching up to us."

"Yes, I agree." Thorin rumbled from his spot between his Nephews and Head Guard and chose to ignore the looks of shock. "Gandalf has vanished and we are closer to our home than we were yesterday."

"And yer not even remotely healed enough for battle." Óin piped up, making his way over with his bag in hand, or what was left of it. "I'll check ye wounds while the others break down the camp."

It didn't take long for the company to break down their little camp in the cave and begin their trek once more. They made no move to speak as they saw with each mile they made that Bilbo grew squirrelier, his whole frame tensed as he clutched the hilt of his dagger at his side.

Thus the whole company was on edge, those that could had their weapons ready or clutched the hilt of their swords while they scanned the surrounding area. The forest was not dense, there would be nowhere to hide but up and they refused to be sitting ducks in a tree once more…

When the sun reached its apex a howl of a warg rent the air, stilling the company and stealing the breath from their very lungs as they glanced at one another in horror. Fíli and Kíli closed in around their Uncle who was still injured with Dwalin and Balin while the others began to clump closer to one another.

"Run." Bilbo whispered, his eyes wide as his head snapped back the way they came. "Run!"

They ran through rivers, rocks and up the mountains, weaving in and out trying to confuse their scent so the wargs would have difficulty finding them. They doubled back some time before they crashed into Gandalf, sending all of them scattering to the ground.

"Gandalf!" Kíli cheered from beneath his brother.

"Where have you been?" Thorin asked as Dwalin and Balin helped him to his feet.

"I was scouting ahead," was all he supplied causing many of the elder Dwarrow to frown.

Thorin glowered at the wizard, his arm pressing tight to his injured ribs before turning to Bilbo reluctantly. "Bilbo, go back up the path and see how far away the pack is."

It was not something Thorin wanted to order but Bilbo was their best bet at seeing and sneaking up on a warg pack if needed without being spotted, until he returned though Thorin allowed his heart to race and the worry to simmer under his stoic façade.

Bilbo nodded and quickly made his way up the mountain path that they had just fled down from as silently as he could. He peaked over the rock edges his keen eyes locking on the pack of orcs and wargs before ducking so they wouldn't see him with a hammering heart.

"They didn't see you, they're moving on following the false path." Yavanna whispered softly, brushing the curls of her hobbit.

A snarl caused Bilbo to snap his eyes to the left, his heart hammering as he saw the great bear a few yards over looking out into the distance. A continuous rumbling snarl escaping as howls of wargs pieced the air.

"You must return to the others, the skin-changer is not safe in this form Bilbo!" Yavanna explained, pushing Bilbo back down the path with worry. She couldn't help her Prophet here if the skin-changer attacked as he was one of her creatures, one she had taken into her heart after their creation when she saw how devoted they were to her trees and all things living.

"How close is the pack?" Thorin asked as he saw Bilbo stumble back down the path, his hand shooting out to still him.

"Too close. A couple of leagues, no more, but that is not the worst of it." Bilbo tried to explain between gasps.

"Have the Wargs picked up our scent?" Dwalin asked, pressing the matter as he saw the fear on the hobbit's face.

"Not yet, but they will; we have another problem." Bilbo gasped out, his hand pressing firmly to his chest as he used Thorin for support.

"Did they see you? They saw you!" Gandalf asked loudly, causing Bilbo to look up from his bent position.

"No, that's not it," He spluttered with a frown, groaning as Gandalf simply smiled and looked at the others.

"What did I tell you? Quiet as a mouse. Excellent burglar material." Gandalf praised while the others agreed and laughed.

Bilbo curled his fingers tightly into the fur of Thorin's surcoat, irritation bubbling into a boiling rage as the others continued to talk and give his 'bugler abilities' praise.

"SILENCE!" Bifur snarled, his patience snapping as he watched Bilbo try and try again to get their attention.

"Thank you Bifur," Bilbo smiled, turning towards the others and letting Thorin's surcoat go and missing the disappointed gleam in the king's eyes. "As I was trying to say… there is something else out there."

Gandalf frowned concerned, his eyes trying to take in the surroundings. "What form did it take? Like a bear?"

Bilbo spun opening and closing his mouth a few times. "Y—yes. But bigger, much bigger."

"You knew about this beast?" Bofur asked watching as Gandalf turned away. "I say we double back."

"And risk the orcs catching up to us? No." Thorin snapped worried, his eyes roaming over his kin and Bilbo. He would not risk those who mean most to him, no they had to continue forward.

"There is a house…" Gandalf trailed off before looking at the others. "It's not far from here, where we might take refuge."

"Are the friend or foe?" Thorin asked low, his eyes hard.

Gandalf stammers for a second. "Neither. He will help us, or he will kill us."

The Dwarrow shuffled and muttered in dismay at the news. "What choice do we have?" Thorin utters just as a roar echoes the plain causing all to jump.



Bilbo growled in frustration as he came to a stop, his lungs burning from the constant running. This was a sure sign that proved he of all hobbits shouldn't and weren't designed to run so far nor fast, his cousins not included. Even with his endurance he was at his limit.

"Are you well Bilbo?" Bifur asked as he came to a stop beside his friend, Bofur and Bombur closing around him as they too caught their breath.

"Fine, fine… just not used to running for this long even with Nessa's and Tulkas' aid." Bilbo gasped out, giving his friend a reassuring pat and shaky smile.

"Rest for five minutes!" Thorin ordered when he overheard, earning sighs of relief from the rest of the company who basically dropped where they stood panting.

Nori stumbled over to the hobbit and the Ur's with one of the waterskins and passed it to Bilbo, frowning and pushing it into the hobbit's hands when he tried to push it back with a shake of his head.

"Bebother and confusticate you dwarves," Bilbo sighed exasperatedly.

"Hobbits!" The company replied in various tones, a reply that had picked up over the last day or so of running.

A mighty roar echoed the forest, causing fear to strike in the hearts of the company and pulling them to their feet once more.

"This way, quickly!" Gandalf urged, pointing to the spot where the trees thinned out in the distance.

"Bombur, come on!" Bofur yells, snatching the front of his brother's tunic and yanking him to run.

As they exit the forest and into the bright sun, the company could see a home in the distance surrounded by a tall wall of wood and shrubbery. It was a beautiful sight to some that they took to admire for that split second just before another roar sent the birds scattering.

"To the house! Run!" Gandalf yelled as he let the company pass him, his eye on the forest and the growing pound of footsteps coming towards them.

Bifur and Nori shot their arms out as Bilbo stumbled, his body tipping forward before righting itself once more. The hobbit shot his friends a thankful smile before blinking in surprise as Bombur raced passed them and to the front of their line.

"HURRY!" Thorin snarled as Bombur threw his whole weight into the door before falling back. Kíli and Bofur were next followed by Dori, Ori and Dwalin, each one throwing their weight to open the door but it still would not budge.

Gandalf spun around their eyes widening as the bear broke through the trees and came barrelling towards them snarling. Bilbo felt his eyes widen at the sheer size of it, he may have seen it when he was spying but there was one thing about seeing something that wasn't attacking verse attacking.

"The lock, the lock!" He shouted as his arm flared up, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach as he watched the bear lumber forwards.

Thorin at hearing his One rushed forward and unlatched the lock, how they missed it, he will never know and everyone piled in before quickly turning around and trying to close the door just as the Bear surged passed the gate and slammed into the door.

The Company groaned and cursed, each pushing and shoving all the while trying to avoid being bitten by the snarling jowls of the bear.

"Mother!" Bilbo begged, called and pleaded to Yavanna who appeared behind them all and gave aid. The door swung shut with a sounding boom and the Company watched as the bar fell down on its own and locked the door firmly in place.

Bilbo sagged in relief, giving his Mother thanks.

"I'm sorry I could not do more my dear but he is a creature of my heart and I cannot do harm to those under my protection." She explained softly, bending down and placing a kiss upon his head. "Tell the Skin-changer when he comes what you are, he will aid you then as they swore to help all those under my guide."

}}I will Mother, thank you.{{ He whispered his reply, leaning into the quick embrace before she had vanished once more. Her time with him has lessened over the trip and he understood that, she was needed in the Shire to keep the boundaries up so nothing goes astray, she also needed to tend and care for her children in Fangorn.

"What is that?" Ori asked Gandalf as another roar echoed the night as Dori ushered him away from the door muttering under his breath.

"He is a skin-changer." Bilbo supplied, drawing all eyes to him in surprise. "Mother told me."

Gandalf nodded, eying the hobbit and the area around him. It explained so much now, how sometimes he could sense a great power and then nothing just as quick. "That is our host… His name is Beorn, and Bilbo is correct in saying that he is a skin-changer."

The others shared a look, some in disbelief others in concern.

"Sometimes he's a huge black bear; sometimes he's a great strong man. The bear is unpredictable, but the man can be reasoned with. However, he is not overfond of dwarves." Gandalf continued, holding a wince as every dwarven eye snapped to his and narrowed.

"He will help us." Bilbo piped up, cutting off what was surely to be another argument as Thorin opened his mouth. "Mother said to tell him what I am, his kind swore to aid all under her care when they can… if they can."

Nodding Gandalf gathered his pipe from the depths of his pocket. "Good, I suggest you all get some sleep there isn't much to be done now till morning."

The company grumbled and groaned as they began to set up their bedrolls in the pile of hay near the back; Bilbo paused by Gandalf's side and looked up with a frown. "One of these days Gandalf your secrets will be the death of somebody and that will be on your conscious for the rest of your long life."


Shaking his head, Bilbo held up his hand to silence the wizard. "No Gandalf, disappearing on us and leading us here was dangerous. Do you think our host will take too kind for killing an innocent? Even in bear form he has consciousness, it was a dangerous move and your luck is running thin… one day it will run out and you wont be able to stop it."

With that the hobbit made his way to where Bifur had set up his roll, giving the toymaker a thankful smile before falling back into the hay and closing his eyes.

He could sense darkness on the horizon and what hope he had for an easy journey onwards was slowly disappearing… something was coming and he didn't know what.


Author Note: Holy crap man, I am so so so sorry for the long delay… I got caught up in a few things and getting my book ready to publish that this and a few others got put on hold. So here is a little bit more for you.

Chapter Text

Title: A Cursed Blessing
Pairing: Bilbo/Thorin

Summary: In time of great change a Prophet is born, selected by one of the Valar. When Bilbo is born, he had the markings of the Prophet but it was not One of the Valar that had chosen him, it was all.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing the characters of Tolkien; I do not own them unfortunately…

Author Note: " Bold Italic is Khuzdul", " Italic is Sindarin", )) Bold(( is Black speech and anything between }}…{{ is Green Tongue. Anything Underlined is windspeech or the language of the Eagles.


Sleep was no comfort for Bilbo as his dreams were plagued with nightmares. Dark whispering chants that promised him power, promised him that he would want for naught for as long as he shall live. It was a taunting mockery of a voice, dark and alluring in ways that made Bilbo shiver.

People bowed and laughed as they danced, the land prosperous and bountiful praising his name well into the night. Warmth shone at his back from the sun, but he could not turn to see it. It was enlightening, peaceful.

But it felt wrong, it felt fake.

No. You cannot promise me this.

His voice resounded through the cheer, shattering the scene before him. Grass once vibrant green turned to ash, blackened soil and burnt out husks that were once homes. His friends and family, elves, Dwarrow and all in between were shackled and broken… hate in their eyes.

But it was Thorin… his eyes wide and unseeing as he lay bloody at his feet. Bilbo's eyes widened in horror even as a satisfactory smile tugged at his lips and as he cast a look down at the slight weight in his hands… he saw his little sword stained with red.

I do not want it. I DO NOT WANT IT!

Bilbo shot up with a gasp, his eyes wide and heart racing. His hands fisted in the hay as he sucked in gulp fulls of air to calm down and gain control of his breathing once more. He felt clammy, his dirt encrusted shirt clinging to his already filthy sweat sheened skin.

A low buzz reached his ears and it was that he used to focus; it was a familiar buzz one that reminded him of home. He could hear the flutter of hummingbird's wings and the clips of animals. Fresh smell of hay, tilled earth and flowers came next to his senses and then the plastic feel of the straw under him.

His eyes scanned the room, taking in every little detail and he calmed for a blissful second, his eyes slipping closed to return to sleep. It was a mere beat of a second later where his eyes snapped open, his heart hammering as he realised that he was alone. All the bed rolls were empty.

"No, no, no, no…" He chanted panicked as he got to his feet and stumbled forwards in an anxious daze.

"Bilbo calm," A deep voice soothingly whispered as a pair of warm hands caught him as he tripped. But he couldn't calm, Bilbo was deep within a panic attack.

Thorin cast a worried glance to the company as he pulled the hobbit closer to his body and began to lead him to an open chair. They had been up for several moments now arguing about what was to be done, they didn't want Bilbo to face the massive man out back alone when Bilbo stumbled in pale with flushed cheeks and unseeing eyes.

No word was said as Thorin scowled at his company when they offered no advice on what do to so he did the only one that he could think of and pulled his One into an embrace, guiding Bilbo's ear to the spot where his heart laid. He remembered his mother doing this for him when he had thought Frerin was lost on his watch. Her scent calmed him as he focused on the steady rhythm of her heart, but Thorin had to admit his heart might not be as steady as his mother's was right this moment.

How could it be when he held his One so close?

Bilbo sagged against the solid wall of heat and fur. A slightly fast paced thump echoed under his ear, he could feel each beat and each rise and fall of the solid support beneath him. Comfort, home… The fresh smell of earth and smoke, heady and all-consuming and with it brought a sense of peace he has not felt for a long time.

"Thank you." He whispered as his mind cleared of the fear and anxiety. He could tell that it was a dwarf who held him and whom it was exactly from the familiar black leather clad arms and roughened hands. "I could not calm."

"I know Bilbo," Thorin uttered softly, just loud enough for the hobbit in his arms to hear. "What troubles you so?"

A ragged sigh escaped Bilbo's lips as he melted further into Thorin's arms. He didn't wish to speak of it but he knew that until he had reassurance the nightmare would plague him. "Darkness, taunting voices and promises… the Shire was burned and all I knew were in chains. You were dead."

Thorin felt his arms twitch, his hold tightening ever so slowly as memories burst to the forefront of his mind. He shook his head clear and turned all his focus onto his One. "We are well Bilbo. I am well."

"I know… I know." Bilbo breathed out exhausted. It felt like he had not slept when he knows he did but that took all the energy and strength from him. "What is everyone arguing about?"

"Gandalf wishes to take you out first and we do not wish for you to go alone with only a wizard for protection." Thorin explained as he reluctantly let go as Bilbo took a step back.

Bilbo frowned as he scanned the others, each wearing a scowl as they tried not to cast a glare towards the wizard whom looked highly amused by their ire. His Mother stood at the back covering her mouth as she tried to stifle her laughter. There was something obviously going on, he could see by the way the room was divided, the Ri's and Ur's to one side while the others on the other.

"We need Beorn's help to reach Mirkwood and the only person who can help is Bilbo." Gandalf explained exasperated before pausing. "This will require some delicate handling; we must tread carefully. The last person to have startled him was torn to shreds. So wait inside until I give the signal and then come out in pairs."

The arguing picked up in fervour as Gandalf stepped outside and all Bilbo could do is sigh as he sidestepped and around the Dwarrow with ease and a shake of his head. They were arguing loud enough that he was sure even the elves in Rivendell could hear them.

Warm hands bringing the smell of freshly tilled earth and life rested upon Bilbo's shoulders the instant he stumbled as Beorn came into view. Fear and unease filled him to the very core at the sheer size of the man who was holding an axe two times the size of Bilbo and chopping wood. Oh Bilbo knew the man would be big due to the size of the bear but this… this was not what he expected.

If Bilbo stood thrice on his shoulders he'd probably reach the height of him and two standing side by side to match the width. He was all muscle and fur, a made framing his neck and shoulders, a trail leading down his bare back.

"All will be well Bilbo remember what I told you," His Mother whispered, her hands running through his curls in comfort.

Gandalf shifted and twitched, his left hand brushing over the crown of his head as his right clutched his staff in apprehension. He did not know how Beorn will react. "Good morning...ah…good morning."

There was some ironic hilarity to this; Bilbo was sure of it as his words from what felt like so long ago echoed out of Gandalf's mouth. It was also the first time that Bilbo had seen the wizard so nervous, it was also this fact that had Bilbo tensing as the man stilled, his back tensing as he turned his head ever so slowly.

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"Who are you?" The voice was deep; a low growl that coincided with his animal of choice and it wasn't pleased.

"I'm ah, Gandalf… Gandalf the Grey." These words were not what should have been said as the man whirled around quick, hoisting the axe into his hands. Yavanna gasped and lowered her gaze with tears pooling in her eyes as she took in the scars across her heart-child's chest.

Before Gandalf had the chance to speak Bilbo stepped forward and stared up at the man unflinchingly. }}Mother said to tell you that I am the Prophet, I am her child.{{

Beorn raised his brows before dropping to his knees in wonder as the little bunny held out his arm for him to see. But Beorn could smell the earth, rich and lively… he could smell the fields on the little bunny under the grit and grime that coated him. His heart rejoiced and Beorn felt himself smile softly at the familiar and unexpected lulling syllables of Green Speech.

}}I had thought that I would not see the likes of you again when your people moved on Little Bunny. Nor did I think I would hear the familiar tones of Mother's voice once more as my people do not speak it.{{ Beorn replied softly, a toothy grin plastered on his face. Bilbo expected to be terrified being close to a being as tall as Beorn with sharp pointed teeth but the warmth in the man's eyes, the tenderness in his voice eased him. }}What do you need little bunny?{{

It also surprised him that a voice that deep could reach the high trills of his people's language.

}}My companions and I were besieged over the Misty Mountains.{{ Bilbo started, his eyes closing as he heard the first of the Dwarrow exit the house. }}We lost the majority of our supplies and are in dire need of aid.{{

Beorn growled low, his warm gaze turning hostile in an instant as dwarf after dwarf piled out of his home. Each one greeted him, offering him their service and if not them then the wizard. "Is this all of you? Are there any more?"

The words were guttural and deep, the vibrations rattling around the Dwarrow's chests but their eyes snapped to the entry way as their King stepped out, his eyes firmly locked on his One who stood mere inches away from the growling man.

Beorn stood with a growl as he took in the last dwarf, a familiar face he had seen many years ago but knew well from those passing by. He knew Thorin Oakenshield, knew all his tales from the coming and goings of his kin. "I made an oath long ago to aid the children of the Green Mother; it is an oath my people and I intend to keep."

}}I thank you, Beorn.{{ Bilbo replied still in the Green Tongue, giving his mother a smile as he caught her in the corner of his eye with a proud grin.

The Great Bear grunted and made his way into his home, gritting his teeth as the Dwarrow scattered back from him like mice to give him a wide berth. His gaze flittered over every surface he could see for any sign of change and only found nothing amiss beyond the bedrolls in his hay pile down near his cattle.

Chatter reached his ears of creatures, talk of what has been said and done of how the Dwarrow greeted and treated them.

'one hairy beast comforted the little fur foot… water leaked from fur foots eyes… so strange.'

This had Beorn raising his brows and turning towards the dwarves that still lingered outside but beyond them he could see the one he knew to be Thorin Oakenshield near Little Bunny, a great concern on the dwarf's face. Such tenderness rested there.

'The Little Bunny has asked for aid for he and them. We will need food and drinks my friends.' He rumbled out to his creatures as he began to push and gather more chairs and benches. There had only been a few, his own at the end while a couple rested for those that wished to use the table.

"I'm fine Thorin, he's agreed to help now can we go in? I'm starving." Bilbo sighed exasperated but couldn't help but smile fondly at the King-in-exile.

Thorin twitched wanting to argue but sighed and nodded instead, his shoulders sagging. "Aye Master Baggins."

Yavanna giggled from her spot in the corner as the Dwarrow came in one by one, practically running into each other as they each came to a halting stop when they took in the scene before them. Several large long-bodied grey dogs walked on their hind legs with boards other items in their forefeet, sheep lead by one black ram had trays laden with food that the dogs deposited from their backs and to the table before disappearing once more.

Several opened and closed their mouths several times as they continued to watch the display, snapping out of it when Bilbo shoved past them and practically dove at the table as he caught the scent of fresh baked cakes and rolls, honey dribbling from the large pots and warm milk.

It was the best food Bilbo had smelt since leaving the Shire and he was going to eat! He was not going to let the oddities of the animals perturb him nor will he question it and the language they spoke. It was not a language he – the prophet – had never come across before nor could he understand.

"It is the language of the Animals under Beorn's care, only he and they can understand." Yavanna whispered as he saw the confusion upon her child's face.

The others seeing Bilbo eagerly dig into the food joined in, moaning and sighing at the taste of the meal and complimented it greatly. Beorn watched them with a critical eye, listened to their words and caught every action… they brushed away the mice that roamed his home, distantly thanked his friends but they all seemed to glace at Little Bunny often, subtly nudging plates around so that food was near him.

They cared for him and it spoke well for their character that a creature like he too reciprocated their actions and care.

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"I don't like dwarves…" Beorn rumbled as he stood, picking the milk jug up from before him. "They're greedy and blind, blind to the lives of those they deem lesser than their own… or so I had thought."

Thorin raised his brows in confusion as did many of his company as Beorn poured them more milk. "What changed your mind?"

"I watched you care for Little Bunny. His people are cheerful and kind, hard to trust but once earned are loyal and will care for you until their very deaths unless you betray them beyond forgiveness. I watched as you made sure he had enough food, my friends explained you comforted him and I saw proof outside and now. He returned the sentiment." Beorn explained watching as all their heads snapped to Bilbo who picked at his honeycomb. "It is because of his treatment towards you I changed my mind, not as a whole but you few."

"Are you willing to aid us?" Thorin asked as he stepped closer to his One.

Beorn paused before nodding. "My oath was to give aid when asked by any child of the Green Mother. He asked and I shall deliver it but for now you must eat and rest, we can discuss this all later."



The Company lingered near the hearth, the chairs from the table moved around so they could sit comfortably. They were well fed and clean, having been instructed by Beorn that there was a river just past his bee pastures.

Bilbo had been the first to go and come back, taking a seat in the fresh grass and tilted his head up to the last rays of sun in the sky. Beorn has asked for them to be done and inside once darkness crept up on them so they were safe inside his walls while he hunted the Orcs and or Goblins following them.

"May I join you?" Thorin asked softly.

Cracking his eye open Bilbo nodded before letting it slip shut once more.

"There's… there's something I've been meaning to ask you since Rivendell but…" Thorin trailed off and it was the unusual tone of nervousness that had Bilbo snapping his eyes open and pay attention. Thorin Oakenshield was many things, stubborn, proud, and arrogant but he was never nervous and if he ever was… Bilbo knew he wasn't one to show it.

Taking a deep breath Thorin turned towards the forest, unable to look at Bilbo in the eye. "I'd like to apologise for how I treated you. I was angry when Gandalf suggested a hobbit to be a member of my company as me and mine have never had high opinions of your race… always happy and so oblivious to hardship of others."

"I know." Bilbo admitted simply. "Hobbits are the smallest race in Arda and take for granted the peace we know that others suffer for to keep for us. The Rangers live a nomadic lifestyle to protect our lands and many of my kin would turn them away if they begged for aid. Not all are like that."

A huff of laughter escaped Thorin's quirked lips, "As you have showed us many times and sometimes with force."

The silence lasted for several moments, neither knowing what to say. "You wanted to ask me something?"

"Did you mean what you said when you called me Mamahbanmûn?" Thorin asked in Khuzdul, unable to voice the question in Westron. He turned when he saw Bilbo's body uncoil and sag into the grass with relief all over his face for a split second and replaced with surprise.

"I did yes." Bilbo admitted calmly. He thought that Thorin was going to ask about the wounds on his shoulder, the jagged marks left by Orcs from the Fell Winter he knew the Dwarf King saw back in Rivendell but no… it was something a little less uncomfortable but just as mortifying.

"Why?"Thorin asked again and this time Bilbo was sure that he saw the uncertainty in the dwarfs blue eyes. "You must know Bilbo that in my culture I am not deemed attractive. I am too slim and narrow for a Dwarrow, my beard too short and even though I am a king… I… I just want to know why."

Bilbo felt his brows rise higher and higher as Thorin spoke before they crashed down into a scowl as the vulnerability leaked through the sad tone, a tone he too knew well. Without hesitation Bilbo took Thorin's hand in his own and turning the dwarf to face him. "Because in that moment, when you landed on top of me and your hair cascaded down covering us from view… I saw you. Your face was soft and your eyes shone like the rivers of my home. Your lips were parted and a dusty rose lay hidden beneath your beard and I saw you… I saw the Dwarf that stood upon my doorstep before he rudely insulted me and he was soft and warm… you were home."

The words were soft but oh so meaningful and Thorin felt his breath hitch and lodge in his throat as he tore his gaze away from his clothed knees and grass to stare at Bilbo. Rich green with flecks of brown and gold connected with ice blue eyes peered back at him, still as beautiful as that very moment when he first saw them.

"That night in Rivendell when you saw me after hearing that Elf and Tharkûn…" Thorin started before swallowing thickly as he recalled the pain and the anger, the shame that Bilbo had heard what was said about his line before sighing raggedly. "You told me that I had a good heart, when I was in such a dark mood so buried in my shame and grief you… you chased away that darkness with your kindness and it was then that…Something was revealed to me and…"

"Uncle! Bilbo! It's getting dark, you need to come inside Beorn is about to leave!" Kíli's voice called out from somewhere behind them, jolting the two.

Bilbo and Thorin jerked their gaze to the sky to see the dark hues of night and not the rich colours of dusk. Thorin got to his feet in an instant and a wince as his wounds pulled before helping Bilbo to his own, he didn't know whether to be glad or dismayed at the untimely disruption. "We best get inside before they come out and search for us."

"Uh… uh yes?" Bilbo stammered confused as he let his hand drop from Thorin's. "What was…?"

"It doesn't matter now Bilbo, come let's get some food." Thorin replied quickly before pivoting on his foot and striding back towards Beorn's home, leaving a bewildered and confused hobbit in his wake.

Author Note: *evil cackles*

Author Note EDIT: No, I have not abandoned this story. After this chapter RL got busy, I had to help a friend with her wedding, wedding season picked up for me and I got a second job, writers block, Donation pieces for charity, NANOWRIMO, holiday and my birthday... I have about 800 words written for the next ch...

Chapter Text

Title: A Cursed Blessing
Pairing: Bilbo/Thorin

Summary: In time of great change a Prophet is born, selected by one of the Valar. When Bilbo is born, he had the markings of the Prophet but it was not One of the Valar that had chosen him, it was all.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing the characters of Tolkien; I do not own them unfortunately…

Author Note: "Bold Italic is Khuzdul", " Italic is Sindarin", )) Bold(( is Black speech and anything between }}…{{ is Green Tongue. Anything Underlined is windspeech or the language of the Eagles.


The next morning Bilbo found himself once again in the garden, his eyes turned towards the direction where he knew Erebor would be but his mind was on Thorin and what occurred last night and on the forest that lay between them and their destination. Even from this distance, he could feel the screams muffled by the healthy song of the land between them. It was like the sound of a fly buzzing over the sound of laughter, a hiss of a steaming kettle in the din of a busy kitchen.

It concerned him.

It concerned his mother too.

"I will not be able to go into the woods with you Bilbo," Yavanna explained as she ran her fingers over the lush grass, letting her presence seep into the earth. "Darkness walks those forest paths and my presence will draw it to you."

This Bilbo understood; he didn't like it as he didn't wish to be without her comfort but he understood. "I know, I will find a way to manage it."

"He will not be alone, sister." A soft voice calls out, drawing both eyes and a smile to the flower patches on their right.

Beautiful… was the first thing that came to mind as Bilbo's eyes rested on the fair maiden swaying amongst the colour lit flowers. Hair the colour of the bountiful wheat fields come harvest time shone brilliantly in the rising sun twined with rich colours of the flowers near her, her face soft and youthful with ruddy cheeks and sparkling eyes. She was clad in green much like his Mother of varying shades though where his mother preferred the darker of the colours it seemed she favoured the lighter shades.

His arm twitched as she touched the petals of the flowers gently, smiling serenely as they bloomed.

"My Lady Vána," Bilbo greeted with a humble bow, earning a tinkling laugh in return.

"You need not bow to me little sprite." Vána giggled, her voice as soft as the floating breeze, warmth flooded him as her hand brushed softly through his curls as she embraced her sister.

Yavanna hummed softly pleased before kissing Vána's brow. "Are you to escort him through the forest sweet dancing vine?"

"No, I too cannot linger long in the forest without weeping, it shall be Oromë who has tasked himself to aid when can." Sadness tinged Vána's tone and Bilbo couldn't help but hug both his Mother and her sister.

Bilbo felt his brows raised, he had not had the pleasure of meeting Lord Oromë as he was prone to stay in his forests.

"Bilbo?" Nori's voice startled Bilbo enough that when he spun around his foot stumbled over the other to turn around. Both Yavanna and Vána grasped him gently by his arms and steadied him, their warm gentle hands being replaced by a hotter pair, firmer but no less gentle. "I didn't mean to startle you."

The Prophet simply waved off Nori's apology and smiled. "What can I help you with Nori?"

"Are you okay Bilbo? You've been quiet since last night after ye talk with our majestic leader." Nori supplied and Bilbo couldn't help but smile but he's pretty sure by Nori's frown that it came out more of a grimace.

"The thief is right, you've been contemplative more so than usual." Bifur's voice sounded out, coming from the other side of them.

Bilbo frowned. "I am worried about the trip through the forest, as a hobbit I am connected strongly to all things that grow… but as a Prophet…" He trailed off giving his two friends for something to think on.

"It will be twice as worse for you, much like the mountains," Bifur stated in understanding once everything clicked together. "Is there no way for us to make it easier for you?"

Bilbo frowned and then shook his head, his toes wiggling in the soft grass beneath his feet as he tried to think of how and what could be done to help. Shoes might help – as in leather under his feet – an extra layer between his feet and the soil but then again he tried that once and never wished to try it again. Shaking his head Bilbo turned his attention back to his friends. "No, but Vána has said that Oromë will help me when we reach the forest when he can."

It said a lot that neither Bifur nor Nori batted an eye at the casual usage of the Valar's names or the fact that the Great Hunter was to aid him.

"Nori! Bifur! Bilbo!" Dori's voice echoed across the open space for the others to hear seconds before he came into view. "There you three are, we are waiting for you. Thorin wishes to leave after breakfast."

Nori winced as his brother's eyes landed on him unimpressed.

"Sorry Dori, we'll come right in now," Bilbo stated with a wide grin as he began to make his way back to the house. His stomach was churning but Bilbo knew this was his last chance to eat a proper full meal before entering the forest and he needed all the energy he could get.

The moment he stepped into Beorn's house Bilbo found his eyes sweeping over the enthusiastic Dwarrow and seeking out Thorin who was staring back at him with beseeching eyes the colour of clear spring skies or the depths of a clear river he had walked along in his youth, perhaps they reflected much like the gems of old yet… yet there was something within them that sparked something within him.

Arisiualkhudid-azân… spark of light in the darkness… Arisiualkhudid-azân…

The familiar voice of Mahal whispered in his mind, jolting him completely and caused him to snap straight in attention as he scanned the area for the Stone Father. Yet no Valar could be seen, no vibrancy of his Mother or the soft fluttering of Vána… he could not see Mahal's familiar warmth and glowing arms of the fire that sparked in all his creations and yet he could hear his voice as clearly as he would if the Stone Father was next to him.

"Bilbo?" Nori's voice tore his eyes away from a frozen Thorin and his mind away from the reason why he was hearing Mahal's voice but not seeing his presence. He had never had a Valar whisper to him such a way before.

Concern shone in the thief's eyes and when Bilbo cast another look around the others he could see they too now stopped their merrymaking and joined their king in staring at him, many with looks of concern and some with a glint that Bilbo could not read or understand.

"I'm fine…" The words felt weird on his tongue, they sounded false and clumsy to his own ears and it pulled his brows into a frown. "I just… I heard a whisper is all… from Mahal, it is not like him to speak to me in such a way."

Startled is what Bilbo would call the emotion on the Dwarrow's face as he looked at them again, many with their mouths open as if to speak before snapping them shut. It was Kíli and Ori who went to question what was said from their maker only to stop as Dori and Fíli shoved their hands over their mouths with haste.

"We do not ask what the maker whispers to his creations," Balin said slowly, his eyes turning from Bilbo to Thorin and back. "But as you are the prophet was it something that pertained to our journey."

"No," The word escaped his lips before he could even think to respond but perhaps a bit harsher than he intended but something within him wanting to horde the whispered words to himself. He just knew what Mahal told him was not meant for others to hear. "No, they were not."

"Then we shall not ask you what our Maker deemed fit to whisper to you, Bilbo," Balin replied, giving the younglings around him a stern look before returning to his meal, the others joining soon after that though perhaps with less gusto than what they were before when he first walked in.

With a confused frown, Bilbo shrugged away the encounter and took a seat between Bofur and Balin, across from Thorin and Fíli. He cast Thorin a look who simply shrugged and turned his attention back to Dwalin, discussing what was needed to do before they left.

Though Thorin was only giving his shield brother half of his attention as Bilbo's words rung through his mind and his gaze sparked a fire under his skin. Mahal had spoken to him... whispered words to him... Hope bloomed in Thorin's chest if Bilbo was the prophet and even though he was a hobbit... did Mahal create Bilbo with enough soul of a Dwarrow to earn a secret name? To receive a One?

Curiosity burned within him... and jealousy surged through him at every free smile and laughter he gave to the others.

"Yer an idiot," Dwalin muttered with a grunt as he took in Thorin's gaze drifting to the hobbit once more. "Just tell him."

Thorin whipped his gaze to his cousin with shock, "what?"

"Mahal wept Thorin," Dwalin sighed before yanking him up from the table and taking him out to where their supplies were waiting with a display of roughhousing. The warrior grunted as Thorin jabbed him in the kidneys before letting him go as they reached a safe place away from the others. "He's yer One."

The rigged set of Thorin's shoulders lasted a total of three seconds before falling, his shoulders hunching in on themselves as the king himself turns his eyes down and away from his best friend. Hearing those words out loud and from Dwalin of all people just struck a blow to his chest and sucked the air from his very lungs with the reality of it all. "Yes."

"Then why don't you just tell him?" Dwalin asked calmly, his hand resting heavy on Thorin's shoulders. "If it's because he's a hobbit…"

"No," The word was short and sharp that it had both of them tensing. "No, it's not because he's a hobbit… it's because he's a Prophet."

Realization struck through Dwalin in the very moment the defeated tone of his King and the words registered properly, his mind flashing back to the caves where he told them all exactly… he was doomed to die for those he cares for, as all prophets have in the past. Sadness welled through the warrior as he took in his friend, the wrecked look that he had not seen since Frerin's death… a look that was on Dís's face when she had thought that Víli had died within the mine collapse.

"Look I know Thorin, I know… We all just want ye to be happy, and he could risk his life for any one of us, like the elf prophet… I can't believe I of all people are sayin' this but wouldn't it be better to have had that love than not have it at all?" Dwalin asked with a cocked brow but didn't wait for his King to reply as he moved over to the Ponies that Beorn was allowing them to take till they reached Mirkwood and began to saddle them.

In no time as well since the others began to make way out of the house, a sack on each shoulder and their bags for those who were able to keep hold of them. Kíli and Fíli instantly moved to their uncles' side as they saw his stricken look, each with concerned eyes but wide smiles as they bickered with one another and pulled him into their shenanigans.

"You will leave my ponies before you enter the forest." Beorn rumbled as he stepped out of the door. "They will not enter the forest and I do not want them to step a hoof in the darkness."

"I will make sure they stay true to their promise Beorn," Bilbo stated as he dropped the bag at the Pony he was pointed to and made his way over to Gandalf and Beorn. }}Is there anything I need to know personally?{{

A flutter of birds and the ominous sound of crows filled the air, gaining the attention of all three. "We are being watched."

"Yes," Beorn growled as he glanced at the edge of his home. "The orcs will not give up their hunt for the dwarves until they see them destroyed."

"Why now?" Gandalf asked seriously. "What has made the Defiler crawl from his hole?"

Beorn stared down the grey wizard. "There is an alliance between the Orcs of Moria and the sorcerer of Dol Guldur. Packs have been seen gathering there. Each day more and more come. Fell things are drawn to his power. Azog pays homage to him."

Thorin frowned over at the three, "Gandalf, Bilbo. Time is wasting."

Bilbo cast a look between the two, there was more that needed to be said and he really didn't wish to hear why Gandalf seemed troubled by the news of the necromancer and his ties with Azog. "There is more you are not telling."

"Not long past word had spread that the dead had been seen walking near the high fells of Rhudaur," Beorn muttered as he watched the Prophet make his way back to the others, ignoring how the Grey One paled.

"The Dead?"

"I remember a time when a great evil ruled these lands. One powerful enough to raise the dead. If that enemy has returned to Middle-earth, I would have you tell me when you know." Beorn hummed, ears catching the sound of something just out of range, something that didn't bode well for them. "Make sure you stay upon the path, the forest is sick and it corrupts those that live in it. Do not drink the waters, or eat the food. I have supplied you with enough supplies to last three weeks."

The company nodded and Bilbo managed to get on his pony with the aid of Bofur, his green eyes glinting as he stared into the forest behind them. He could feel the danger that lurked there, his arm itching as the power of Vairë and Mandos worked together… they will need to hurry…

}}My thanks, Beorn, for your aid. May the Green Mother Bless you.{{ Bilbo stated with a slight head dip in respect.

}}Be safe little bunny, be watchful, the forest will eat you all otherwise.{{ Beorn replied as he swept his eyes over his lands once more. Growls in the distant with the familiar churning screech of Orcs. "Go now while you still have the light. Your hunters are not far behind."


The company noticed the change in Bilbo the closer they got to the forest. He sat hunched in his saddle most of the time with unseeing eyes; many have tried to get him out of the dark thoughts that tormented him… Bofur with jokes and lewd drinking songs, Fíli and Kíli with their own antics, Nori had tried to rile him up by thieving things from the hobbit but none could get through to him and the longer he stayed withdrawn from them all, the more of a thundercloud Thorin resembled.

But Bilbo could not hear the others, not over the screaming misery of the trees, of the plants and else they grew within the borders of what once was Greenwood. His mind was half of agony while another part was full of images of what the forest used to be in the old days before poison touched it… another part was stuck in Seeing what was waiting for them though they flickered past so fast he couldn't register them.

He could see black ichor oozing from the trees and the feel of hunger knowing painfully in his stomach as shouts echoed. He could see white strung from brown leaves and twisted branches like lace at a Shire Wedding only instead of joy it brought more doom. Music and laughter followed by screaming and hunger, Glorfindel, iron and the shudder of the ring world.

Stay focused on the now Bilbo Baggins… A whisper echoed through the noise, brushing away all that was in his head and allowing him to hear the others around him.

"He won't even eat…" Bombur.

"Just let him think…" Gandalf.

"…Uncle… worried… Bilbo." Fíli.

"…dalf doesn't know why… Óin can't help…" Balin.

"Will he return?" Ori.

"Bilbo will return when ready…" Bifur.

"Light of all Lights." The last one was Thorin, whispered painfully so and further away from the others but it struck something within Bilbo, broke a link to a shackle of what held him in his mind.

Go back to your Company Bilbo Baggins, they need you… The soft voice whispered once more and it said a lot that it took a moment for him to realise that it was Lord Irmo who had spoken, who cleared his mind from all that held it tight within its grasp.

He came back to reality with a gasp, his body aching and in the suddenness of his movement had his pony jerking to a halt that caused a chain reaction and Bilbo found himself tilting to the side, his weak hands dropping the reins and slipping from the Pony that bore him to the entrance of the forest.

He could see the darkness reaching out to him like tormenting hands. It loomed and breathed with its ill intent while the screams began to push through the walls that Irmo had placed, he wished to hurl and scream at the same time. This all passed within slow motion, his name was shouted by many but it was Thorin who had caught him in his fall, his arms coming up and wrapping around him. Their eyes locked for a moment, and oh… oh…

Thorin looked wretched but the relief shone through his eyes making them more vivid, a soft smile pulling at Thorin's lips… Oh no… Bilbo thought, his heart sinking and yet floating away all at the same time. I think I lov…

"BILBO!" Kíli's voice called out and shattering the spell. Thorin placed him gently down on his feet and steadied him before stepping back as his nephew raced over and pulled him into a hug, green eyes peering over and locking onto sad blue.

Bilbo had enough of his senses back to silently curse the youngling in his head for his poor lack of timing as Thorin broke the eye contact and turned to walk away once more in the same manner as he had the night before when Kíli interrupted them, leaving their conversation unfinished.

Damn it…

Author note: So this was supposed to be done by Christmas but I got really sick, chest infections suck btw… but what WAS supposed to be their entrance to Mirkwood turned into this… *builds up wall* another cliffy… sorry?

Chapter Text

Title: A Cursed Blessing
Pairing: Bilbo/Thorin

Summary: In time of great change a Prophet is born, selected by one of the Valar. When Bilbo is born, he had the markings of the Prophet but it was not One of the Valar that had chosen him, it was all.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing the characters of Tolkien; I do not own them unfortunately…

Author Note: " Bold Italic is Khuzdul", " Italic is Sindarin", )) Bold(( is Black speech and anything between }}…{{ is Green Tongue. Anything Underlined is windspeech or the language of the Eagles.


The company chattered and whispered behind him or what Bilbo was assumed whispering but they were Dwarrow and Dwarrow were never known or complimented on their stealth. Honestly, he wanted to turn around and tell them that he can hear their worries and it wasn't helping him at all but… but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the forest.

The twisted decaying vines over elegantly carved rock and fossilised wood. The same carvings being placed and carved… back to the decay…

Something is coming…

"Is there no way around?" He asked Gandalf pained, his toes wiggling in the loose soil he had created over the last ten minutes. His head felt like it was in a fog and, yet, at the same time felt as if he had decided to drink all the ale in the shire at the same time.

Gandalf cast the hobbit a sad look, he knew entering the wood would cause some harm to Bilbo or any hobbit really but he had never would have guessed on how bad. Bilbo looked pallid, sickly even much like the forest.

"Not unless we go two hundred miles north, or twice that distance south." He explained gently, as he began to make his way into the forest following what pulled him in. "I'm… sorry."

Something is near…

The words were barely heard over the sound of beating drums or was it his heart? Bilbo did not know but it beat painfully slow in his ears, felt each thrum through his body as he fingered the metal in his pocket absently. He could feel the presence of two Dwarrow beside him, lending him their strength in their silent support.

Nori and Bifur… his mind supplied agonizingly slow.

'Something moves in the shadows unseen, hidden from our sight. Every day it grows in strength. Beware the Necromancer. He is not what he seems.' Galadriel's voice whispered softly to Gandalf as he approached what called him, his hand stilling in the air as he clutched the vines.

Something is here…

A scream escaped from Bilbo's lips as a flash of fire so bright and powerful tore through the barriers of Irmo in Bilbo's mind the very second Gandalf tore away the vines. His hands fly to his ears to block out the black speech and his eyes clench shut as he tried to chase the image away but unable to do so.

Death and the scorching of the world burned bright under the eye's gaze. An army marched from deep within and through the black gates…

Chaos erupted around Bilbo as he collapsed to the ground in Thorin's arms, all of them crowding him as Óin scanned over him for any sign of damage, shaking his head at Thorin's look when he was done. Dwalin scowled darkly as he spun on his foot and stalked towards the forest, yanking Nori with him for support, the thief more than willing to help.

Though his ire turned into rage quite quick as they saw Gandalf make way to his horse instead of rushing to Bilbo's side in aid.

Dwalin's axe was lifted up, the blade of it pressed against the side of Tharkûn's neck in a blink of an eye.

"I suggest you remove your axe master dwarf." Gandalf warned as he stared at Dwalin.

"And I suggest ye shut the bloody hell up you bastard." The words were guttural as he spoke, pressing the blade harsher against the wizard's neck in warning, causing him to stumble back.

The words were heard over the now whimper's of Bilbo's clearly, drawing the attention of the company easily enough. Confusion swept across most of their faces but several caught on easily enough as they took in the distance between them and the wizard and the wizard and his horse.

"Pray tell where are you going Tharkûn?" Thorin's voice was dark, near a growl that it sent shudders down the youngsters' spines.

"I need to leave. I would not do this unless I had to." Gandalf explained stepping back as the blade pressed harshly against his throat once more.

"And Bilbo means nothing to ye?" Nori rumbled darkly. "He's hurtin' and you haven't told us a damn thing, just tellin' us to let 'im think! He's hurtin' ye' bastard!"

Gandalf seemed to age before their very eyes as he gazed over to a screaming hobbit. "I cannot help him," He admitted. "I don't know how. But I must go, I cannot linger anymore."

Thorin snarled and jerked Dwalin back, pointing to the horse. "Then go."

The 'and may Mahal strike you down upon your journey you bastard' was left unsaid but heard by all.

The three watched as Gandalf mounted his horse and turned to face them once more, his eyes sad as he gazed at Bilbo quickly before steeling himself. "I'll be waiting for you at the overlook, before the slopes of Erebor. Keep the map and key safe. Do not enter that mountain without me. This is not the Greenwood of old. The very air of the forest is heavy with illusion. It will seek to enter your mind and lead you astray."

"And what do you mean by that Wizard? More riddles?" Thorin glowered darkly at him.

"You must stay on the path; do not leave it. If you do, you will never find it again. Listen to what Bilbo say's even if it doesn't make any sense. Hobbits are connected to the earth, he more so." Gandalf stressed as he wheels his horse around and begins to ride away, shouting at them over his shoulder to stay on the path.

Dwalin eyed the forest and then Bilbo who was no longer screaming but whimpering in a ball in Bifur's arms, his hands pressed to his eyes. Balin caught his brothers eye and made his way over, listening to what his brother murmured to him with Nori's interjections while eyeing Thorin who was seething.

"The wizard may be heartless and unhelpful but it is still not wise to go against his word." Balin said slowly, unflinchingly as his king's gaze locked onto his own. "Bilbo cannot walk, we must carry him until he gets enough strength."

Thorin nodded and made his way towards his one, lifting him gently from Bifur's arms and avoiding the knowing gaze of said toymaker. Bilbo was lighter than Thorin remembered even without his gear and weapons that the others thankfully had and it sent a pang through Thorin, Bilbo has lost a lot of weight on their journey. "Come on. We must reach the mountain before the sun sets on Durin's Day."

The company gathered heir things all the while side-eyeing their king who held the burglar tenderly in his arms. Fíli and Kíli gave each other surprised looks and small smiles, plans forming in their heads though Kíli winced as he thought back over the moments he had interrupted.

"Dwalin, you lead." Thorin ordered as he pulled Bilbo closer to his chest, tucking his feet under the edge of his coat to keep them warm.

Dwalin eyed his king for a brief moment, catching the soft look he cast the burglar before turning to make his way down the path, using his war hammer as a guide to find the stones under the rotten leaves. Dwalin didn't have a strong sense of stone like some others but he could still sense it in a way he could know where they should be and whatnot but here there was nothing, if it wasn't for the fact he could see the poorly cobbled path he'd say there wasn't one there at all and it worried him.

The others piled in after him, making sure to keep their eyes on their king and burglar so they wouldn't fall off the path when an idea struck Kíli. "Uncle?"

Thorin lifted his chin slightly to signal he was listening and waited for what his nephew wanted.

"What if we made some form of barrier between Bilbo's feet and the ground? Like shoes?" Kíli asked pausing when Ori made a sound of protest.

"We can't do that without his permission! Hobbit's don't wear shoes, to even suggest it is an insult!" Ori whimpered out as he eyed the forest, stepping closer to Dori when the others stopped and stared at him.

Balin blinked at his apprentice in surprise. "How do you know this?"

Ori stared at his mentor and frowned. "Because I've been talking to him when we're on watch or when we're walking. They take pride in their feet like we do hair, to shear their foot hair is to shear ours and to even suggest shoes is like calling us cloudyheads or well elves."

Murmurs broke out through the group while Kíli look utterly horrified at the insult he inadvertently gave.

"We will take turns carrying him till he's functional, if we need to rest we can place the blankets on the ground and hope that helps. We will wait till Bilbo wakes to see what he needs." Bifur uttered eyeing down the others as they began to turn their conversation back to the shoes again seeing no other way to help him.

Bofur and Bombur nodded along with their cousin and relaying what was said to the others.

"Aye, I can agree to that." Glóin muttered, his hands signing the conversation to his brother who was nodding along but eyeing the unconscious hobbit in their kings arms with worry.

"We keep moving, Dwalin lead the way." Thorin ordered. "I'll carry Bilbo till mid-afternoon then someone can take him if he hasn't woken up and pray to Mahal to give him strength to fight this."


Clear crystal eyes gazed out into the forest with a frown, the forest was tainted, it was something he couldn't help with even though he was the master of these woods. It was not his duty to fight the darkness, that path was set for another.

But he could aid those who were trying to fight it; he could give warnings and tenacity to the people and creatures that lived in it.

"The Prophet has entered the woods." He hummed slowly from his position on the gnarled tree, his eyes flicking up to the clear patch of sky above and made plans. Music danced in the distance from the Eldar's celebrations, the shnick of swords and twangs of bowstrings followed from the hunters that searched and dispatched Ungoliant's spawn.

A faint scent of flowers and mead reached his nose that had him turning. His wife could not enter the forest nor could her sister due to the taint, their tears tore at his heart and it hurt all the more when what sprouted from their tears withered and died instead of thriving.

"I had not expected you," He greeted in surprise.

"I did not expect to come but Aulë was comforting his wife and yours." The being replied, his usual jovial voice tempered. "His children pray for the Prophet's strength, he will need the both of us in his turmoil."

Oromë nodded and picked up his spear and bow. "Then we best begin our journey to him, he's on the path close to here and we shall reach them when they stop. Be cautious of the forest Tulkas, it plays tricks even on me."

Deep blooming belly laughter escaped from the golden maned Ainur, his laugh seeming to brighten the dreary forest for a brief moment and silence the screaming of the trees that Oromë was suddenly glad that the Champion had joined him.

Tulkas was not known to join the rest of them in monitoring the world and its creations. He was happy in Valinor wrestling with the beasts and joining the Dwarrow in their halls under disguise or – to Oromë's amusement – dancing barefoot with his sister. The only time Tulkas joined them with the problems of Arda was in the creation of the Prophet and if Melkor were to rise again, unless Ilúvatar said otherwise.

As predicted the forest grew darker and twisted the further they delved into its heart and from the protective field Oromë was in, even sobering the usually joyful valar.

They soon reached the Prophet and Aulës children shivering in the dark with a hastily dampened fire. Oromë knew instantly what happened the moment his eyes locked on the moths that lay squashed by the pathway but what really caught his and Tulkas's attention was the Prophet. His face was pinched in pain and he shivered with the cold even though Aulës children gave him their blankets and beds, their bodies surrounding him in comfort and protection.

"How could Olórin guide the Prophet through here? How could he leave him to this agony and darkness without explanation as to combat it?" Tulkas whispered harshly his face thunderous.

"I do not know but it says much about Aulës' children in the sacrifice and care they have given him." Oromë explained as he knelt down and brushed the damp strands from the Prophets face, his heart warming as he nuzzled close to his palm.

Tulkas nodded and surprised Oromë by lifting the small creature into his arms with great care, holding him close to his chest and eyes closed. A soft glow escaped his skin, bathing them all in warmth and Oromë wished his family was here to see the care the Champion had with the Prophet.

"Tulukhastāz." A small voice whispered, drawing the attention of both Valar.

Eyes the colour of spring peered up at them, the pain that was etched on his face smoothed and showed them how young the small Prophet truly was. It showed them how strong the small being was and Tulkas's doubts of his father's choice for choosing a child of Yavanna washed away, the small being was strong, even under the swirling magic of his kin he could tell and it awed him.

"Hello young Prophet." He greeted just as soft.

"Thank you," the words were barely a whisper but the emotion that laid in the two of them had both Valar frowning.

"You thought we would not help you," Oromë said sadly, drawing the hobbits attention.

Bilbo shrugged the best he could while wrapped in the blankets and held in the strongest Valar hands. "Mother said you would help but I've not seen you personally since the creation of me, have not expected to see you with your duties to the forest not expect the Valar Champion at all. My memories of the others saw very little of him beyond war."

"I am not known for being the wisest; my joy is with my wife and in battle yes." Tulkas replied soberly. "I am for war and because of this my wisdom and guidance is not one to be taken seriously unless in war. I did not see what my presence in your life would need as you were a creation of Yavanna and of a peaceful race. That was and is my mistake and I am here now to help you."

"The screaming has stopped." Bilbo replied gently. "Those that grow weep."

Oromë nodded, "yes. Tulkas has bolstered your strength and I have muted the screams, you shall not suffer their cries any longer till you reach the end. I sense a great change coming; they will no longer be pulled into shadow and will be able to reach the light once more."

The Dwarrow began to stir around them, telling them that their time to finish their conversation was near.

"You will not be on these tainted lands for soon little one." Oromë stated as he cocked his head to the side. "The Firstborn are near; your company will be taken to their citadel."

Tulkas frowned as he went to lower the Prophet and withdrawing his power that kept the Prophet warm only to feel the presence of something long thought vanquished. "The power you carry… I know that power; I thought it to be long lost. Where did you find such evil?"

"In the goblin caves held by a twisted creature, once was a hobbit." Bilbo explained as he reluctantly pulled the ring out from his pocket to show the Valar, blinking as both Valar cringed away at the sickly golden glow it seemed to cast.

Oromë turned towards Tulkas with desperation. "We must discuss this with the others, who knows you carry this?"

"Only Mahal, he was there when it happened. I don't like the feeling it gives me when I wear it, in fact carrying it made me nauseous beyond what I can describe." Bilbo explained cautiously as Tulkas gently lowered him onto the ground once more.

"Do not let anyone know Prophet; the ring you carry is made by great evil. If we could free you of this burden then we would but it fell into your hands and only Ilúvatar knows why… is this perhaps why we were all chosen to make a prophet?" The last part was spoken to Tulkas and it concerned Bilbo with the fear the Hunter Vala displayed and the concern in the Champion's eyes.

When Tulkas spoke next his voice was grave and it seemed to rumble through the forest with force. "Then we must prepare for war." Turning his eyes to the Prophet, Tulkas tilted his head in respect. "You have my strength till you no longer need it, the forest will no longer pain you as such, the power you carry will not root. Until next we meet Little Prophet."

"And I shall aid you the best I can while away, I shall lead you signs to escape this forest with ease when needed but the First Born draw close." Oromë explained with a short bow and in a blink both Valar were gone, leaving Bilbo bewildered and confused.

"Bebother and confusticate these Valar!" He hissed loudly and tensed when the sounds finally came back to him, his eyes snapping to the Dwarrow who were jumping to their feet with sluggishness, weapons in hand.

It took a moment for them to gather their wits about them to notice what and exactly whom woke them from their slumber.

"BLIBO!" Bifur roared happily as he barged past those in his way and tugged the hobbit into his embrace, hugging him fiercly.

Laughter rung out as everyone clamoured around him, hugging him just as enthusiastically or gently tapping their foreheads to his own and giving him their own words of encouragement and blessings until it was just he and Thorin.

"I am so glad to see you awake." Thorin whispered, holding the endearment on the tip of his tongue.

"I am glad to be awake, I am sorry for making you all worry." Bilbo replied just as gently, eyeing the others before gazing up into Thorin's eyes.

Something warm bloomed in his chest as Thorin cast him a smile, though the warmth faded abruptly into terror as his whole body shook with warning.

Screams echoed through the forest and the last thing Bilbo saw before the darkness took him was giant spiders falling from the treetops.



Author Note: Okay so some of you know RL has been hectic, I've has this chapter nearly finished since July pretty much but between Classes, work and surgery I've been so god damn busy I've found no time to write beyond the three assignments I have and just life.

I also had to intro Tulkas and hope I've done him justice, though I have no idea who to portray him as cause I use Hemsworth (Huntsman version) as Orome but Thor Hemsworth matches Tulkas too... shit

Hope you all enjoyed though!

Chapter Text

Title: A Cursed Blessing
Pairing: Bilbo/Thorin

Summary: In time of great change a Prophet is born, selected by one of the Valar. When Bilbo is born, he had the markings of the Prophet but it was not One of the Valar that had chosen him, it was all.

Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing the characters of Tolkien; I do not own them unfortunately…

Author Note: " Bold Italic is Khuzdul", " Italic is Sindarin", )) Bold(( is Black speech and anything between }}…{{ is Green Tongue. Anything Underlined is windspeech or the language of the Eagles.


The next time Bilbo woke was to the sound of clatters and chitters while slowly being dragged across something hard, something that was not stone or earth… wood… He struggled to open his eyes as he tried to recall the last thing he remembered seeing when it flashed brightly and almost painfully behind his eyes.


His eyes snapped open instantly to see his vision clouded in white and a large black creature dragging him. His arm burned with the powers of Mandos and Vairë swirling together as his instincts screamed danger and the power of Estë healing him of whatever he was stung with. Thanks to Manwë he could hear every step and every sound the spider… no spiders made but no sound of the others.

Where are the others?

His hands grasped the hilt of the Elven blade that was gifted to him just as the spider loomed above him. Bilbo could see the mandibles open and close as it grew closer and waited till it was within reach before he thrust the sword up into the beast's body and twisted, gasping as it shuddered and gurgled before it died. With a grunt he tossed it over the side of the branch he was on before shooting up and ripping the webbing free.

Where are they? Bilbo thought in panic as he whirled around and quickly pressed himself into the tree branch behind him as he gasped, taking in the spiders before him that were bunching the company together, he could even see the shape of Bofur's hat under all the silver webbing that hung from one of the branches. The sound of clicks and scrapes caused Bilbo to still and ease the rapid beat of his heart as he heard one of the spiders climb up the branch behind him.

Many paths laid before Bilbo as he lowered himself down into the small hollowed out bit of the dead tree he was on and glanced down to find he had pulled the ring out of his pocket. Bile threatened to rise at the thought of even wearing the cursed thing, remembering the cold and the darkness that clung to it but… but he needed to save his friends and he couldn't do that without being seen…

The strength of Tulkas that had been laid upon him flared brightly for a brief moment as Bilbo shoved the ring on his finger warming him for a second until that bone-chilling cold consumed him. It took all the strength given and his own not to scream and give away his location but with the effort, Bilbo had managed to bite his lip hard enough for it to bleed.

Ragged breaths escaped his mouth before he was able to calm himself when the voices finally registered.

"Kill theemm. Kill theemm."

"Eat them now…"

"Their hide is tough. There is good juice inside."

"Stick it again! Stick it again! Finish it off!"

"Ahh! The meat's alive and kicking!"

"Kill them, kill them now. Let us feast."

"Feast! Feast!"

Bilbo whirled around the tree once more and paused, eyes wide in disbelief as the voices he heard were the spiders and he could see that one of his friends was awake and trying to break free but was surrounded by the spiders chanting to eat him already. He couldn't allow that, with a quick glance he picked up a chunk of wood and tossed it, ducking and twirling as the spiders charged past him to investigate, leaving only one behind.

"Fat and juicy. Just a little taste." It screeched going for a Bombur sized cocoon causing anger to burst forth in Bilbo.

Not on my watch! He snarled and struck out with the elven blade and striking it in the rear, the sword cutting open the hard shell with ease and causing the spider to turn around hissing. It spins and hisses with each blow Bilbo lands onto it. He grimaced as he cut away some of the leg and head, light ooze seeping from the wounds that smelled like poison.

"Curses! Where is it? Where is it?!" The spider screeched causing Bilbo to grasp the ring and rip it off.

"Here I am!" He chuckled before driving his blade into the spiders head.

It screeched and cried. "It stings! Stings!" before dropping dead.

"Huh," Bilbo muttered as he stared down at his nameless sword gasping for air. "Sting, that's a good name." He hummed before nodding; yes that's what he'd call it.

In a blink, he moves, kicking off and between branches to cut down the Dwarrow before him that were waking up in their cocoons. He watched as they fell, slowed down by the webbing beneath and chuckled as some of the colourful curses reached his ears.

"Where's Bilbo?" Bofur yelled as he got himself free.

"I'm up here!" Bilbo yelled before jerking back just as a spider lunged over the edge of the gnarled branch causing him to scurry back and away to avoid the poison upon its fangs. He thankfully managed to get his sword up in time to kill it before finding himself falling as the spider tipped sideways and dragged him with it.

A flare of gold shone out in the darkness catching his eye and something within him lunged to try and catch the ring that was torn from him as it bounced from branch to branch till it hit the ground. The sound of the others fighting was pushed back by the blood rushing in his ears as he frantically looked through the foliage for that speck of gold.

It was his. He needed that ring. It was his…

"Where is it? Where is it?" he hissed furiously as he frantically continued to look, stilling as he caught sight of the brilliant gold of his precious.

Relief and something dark twisted together as he began to make his way towards it, pausing as a creature crawled out from its hole and crawled forward. Fury, unlike anything Bilbo has ever felt burst forth as he watched that wretched creature touch his ring, his ring and with a cry, he lunged forward hacking at the creature with all his rage till the ring was within his grasp once more.

"Mine!" Was growled out through bared teeth smugly as Bilbo fell back against gnarled roots in victory.

Something seemed to break and bile rose once more in Bilbo as his eyes drifted away from the brilliant gold to the devastation he had caused to an innocent creature. Horror struck him as he stared back at the ring he had hated so much until moments ago.

"Oh Valar," He breathed out as tears pooled in his eyes. What had he just done? What did this thing make him do?

The cries of the others pierced through his panic and in an instant Bilbo was on his feet, the ring in his pocket and on his way towards the others, pressing back into the trees as he watched the elves surround them. He knew there was no way to get to them nor a way for him to follow without wearing that cursed ring for the elves could sense him… could sense a prophet… but he hoped that if his senses were dulled while wearing it then… it may just hide him and he prayed to the Valar that the darkness in the forest caused enough distress for them to only hear and sense the cries than him.

"Search them," Legolas ordered, his eyes scanning the group while Tauriel gave him the report of the nest. Yes, another nest was destroyed but they were getting bolder, closer to their home.

"There is not more we can do but keep culling them, the King will not listen to reason, even the council of his own son." Legolas bitterly bit out when Tauriel suggested going to the source. Legolas had fought long with his father about taking siege of where the creatures were created but his father would not budge.

"Enwenno hain!" He ordered once all the weapons were collected and turned to march back home, frowning as something niggled in the back of his mind, something that he couldn't describe or understand.

The march towards the Great Gates and Thranduil's Halls was made in silence, the elves didn't wish to talk within range of their prisoners and many of the company were worried as Bofur's whispered 'where's Bilbo?' while being dragged away rung loudly in their minds. Each of the company eyed the trees and bushes as they passed them for any sign of their hobbit.

Soon the roaring of the waterfall reached them nearly drowning out all sound as they crossed the bridge. They were all thankful as though at the sudden clarity and fresh air this part of the forest supplied chasing the poisoned haze away but terrified as there was still no sign of their hobbit but they hoped and they dared not utter a word to their captors in case Bilbo was nearby and caused him to be captured too. So far he was their only hope.

Bilbo tiptoed as silently he could behind the company and guards, pausing as the elf he recognised as their leader paused and flung around with narrowed eyes. Panic flared up in him as it seemed the elf's eyes were locked on to him and prayed he wasn't seen or sensed before the elf frowned and turned back around to march inside.

The second Bilbo's eyes laid upon the open halls a flash of an image, a memory, burst behind his eyes. He remembered these halls, not clearly but from long ago when they were first being created. There was fondness and awe in the memory but in a blink, it was gone only to leave a bitter taste as he watched his friends being shoved before the king.

Thranduil eyed the dwarves before him and flicked his wrist in a gesture for the guards to take them away. "Not him," he ordered as they began to march Thorin Oakenshield away.

"Some may imagine that a noble quest is at hand. A quest to reclaim a homeland and slay a dragon. I myself suspect a more prosaic motive: attempted burglary, or something of that ilk." Thranduil starts as he stands and walks down the stairs towards the dwarf king and looks closely at him. "You have found a way in. You seek that which would bestow upon you the right to rule: the King's Jewel, the Arkenstone. It is precious to you beyond measure. I understand that. There are gems in the mountain that I too desire. White gems of pure starlight. I offer you my help."

A war wages in Bilbo as he eyes the path that the Company was taken and back to the two kings. Who does he stay with, Thorin or the Company? No… no, he needs to find Glorfindel, he knew the Balrog slayer was here now he just needed to find him. With that in mind, Bilbo turns to leave, stilling as Thorin's voice echoes through the halls.

"You lack all honour! I've seen how you treat your friends. We came to you once, starving, homeless, seeking your help, but you turned your back. You turned away from the suffering of my people and the inferno that destroyed us!" Thorin snarled. "Die-a-death-of-flames!"

A groan nearly escapes his lips as he marches on, completely ignoring the rest of the conversation but something reaches his hearing before Bilbo was out of hearing distance and it enraged him. "…your Grandfather… You are just like him."


Thorin glared at the elf as the cell door slammed shut behind him and locked, the keys jingling in the smug tree-shaggers hands as he turned to walk away.

"Did he offer you a deal?" Balin asked as he leant against the wall, glancing out of the cell door. He couldn's see Thorin but a sense of dread settled in the pit of his stomach as he knew his King well.

"He did. I told him he could go Îsh kakhfê ai-'d-dûr-rugnul him and all his kin!" Thorin shouted with a snarl, his hand slamming on the cell door making it rattle. It was a mockery, locking him behind iron doors crafted from his own kind.

Hearing this, Balin closes his eyes and sighs wearily in frustration. "Well...that's it, then. A deal was our only hope."

Thorin let out a slight laugh as he pressed up against the door and looked up towards the halls of the bastard king. "Not our only hope."

Bilbo was still out there, his one would find them, he had no doubt about that.


Glorfindel paused and cocked his head to the side as he felt something at the edges of his senses before continuing on. He had been in Greenwood – Mirkwood – for the last month or so waiting for the arrival of the Company and the prophet and yet still no sign.

"You look troubled, mellon" He greeted the prince with once he stepped out onto the ledge that overlooked the western kingdom.

Legolas sighed harshly. "The spiders are growing in number and my father is in a mood thanks to the prisoners," Legolas replied with an aggrieved sigh.

"Prisoners? What prisoners?" Glorfindel asked with a jolt.

"My patrol was tracking a nest when we came across thirteen dwarves in the forest fighting the spiders instead. My father has closed the borders and has orders to bring in anyone that crosses them." Legolas explained never once taking his eyes away from the trees and completely missing the look of panic on the Gondolin Elf's face.

"Only thirteen?" Glorfindel asked abruptly.

Legolas turned and frowned at the elf. "Yes, just thirteen, they're in the dungeons now if you wish to check. Why?"

"No matter, if you excuse me Legolas, I told your father I would go with the next Patrol," Glorfindel replied with a bow and made his way to his rooms with haste before Legolas could even reply.

The company was here but there was no mention of a hobbit nor any sign or sense of the Prophet at all within Thranduil's halls. He quickly pulled on his armour and strapped his sword to his hip and wrote a quick note to the king stating he was going for a patrol in the forest. He would help but he had to find Bilbo and if he couldn't find him then he would have to speak with the Dwarrow then and form a plan for what comes next.

The prophet sent him here for a reason and if that was the case then he would have to help them escape but first.

"My Lord Glorfindel, I did not think you would join us." The captain stated surprised with a low bow.

Glorfindel bowed his head slightly. "Yes, Prince Legolas told me of the spiders, I wish to see the nest where the prisoners were captured from. Are you able to lead me there?"

The captain paused but then nodded. "Yes my lord, I can lead you there as our patrol will be passing it. May I ask why?"

"I am curious, how did the Dwarrow escape from being captured? Is there any lingering traces that I can see that will explain why they are so far from where they originate and I wish to see if I can sense who summoned or created them." He explained blandly as they began to march.

Though he did speak the truth to some degree, his main reason was to see if he could find Bilbo. He needed to be found and quickly, even if he was blessed by the Valar the forest was dangerous even in groups but especially one on their own.

Author Note: Okay, shorter but it's still an update right?

Chapter Text

Author Note: Okay, I don’t know how to word this but this Author Note is nessecary. Real life hasn’t been very good to me right now, I’ve had my heart broken twice in the span of a few months and it kills me, it honestly kills me to wrote HEAs.

I’ve not abandoned my stories but if I try to write them now when I’m in such a very bad frame of mind, i WILL kill everyone off because I can’t do romance right now. Please have patience, please stop demanding updates (I’ve even been left threatening Anons demanding updates) and I just can’t. 

Please give me time to recover, to heal my hurts and woes so I can finish my fics happily because my stories deserve better than forced words or a broken writer.