Chapter Seven – Mamahbanmûn

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

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