Chapter Eight – Fanud buzrâburmubizar

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.

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