Soul Traitor

Credit goes to SunnyRose

Chapter 3: Chapter 2- The Road Goes Ever On

Summary:

Bilbo and Gandalf arrive in Tharbad where Bilbo is to translate a journal they have recovered.

Bilbo's nose continually twitched as he held himself stiffly on the uncomfortable pony Gandalf deemed necessary for their travels.

"If you remain nervous, you will only make Myrtle nervous." Gandalf offered with a hidden smirk.

"If she doesn't want me to be nervous, she needs to quit throwing her head around." Bilbo shot back.

Still, he attempted to follow the wizard's advice and relax in the saddle. Myrtle rewarded his efforts by tossing her mane right in his face that set off a chain of sneezes that he wished weren't commonplace by this point. He was not enjoying this adventure thus far. Bilbo dug around in his coat pocket, looking for his pocket handkerchief, but coming up short. Before he could demand Gandalf stop and turn them around to retrieve it, the wizard spoke up once again.

"Try looking in your waistcoat pocket." Gandalf remarked innocently.

Bilbo shot him a suspicious glare before reaching into the indicated pocket and pulling the piece of fabric forth. Blasted wizards. It wouldn't shock Bilbo to know that Gandalf somehow summoned his handkerchief from home just so Bilbo wouldn't use that as an excuse to return to the Shire. No matter how much Gandalf wanted to explain the limits of his magic.

Deciding it couldn't hurt at this point, Bilbo dug around for his pipe after getting his nose situated and striking a match against the bowl. A couple of mouthfuls of Old Toby, and Bilbo was at least in a more complacent mood. Of course Gandalf became interested, expressing his delight in Shire pipeweed, and Bilbo offered the wizard a pinch from his bag. Watching with a small grin as Gandalf blew a spectacular smoking ship, Bilbo allowed his curiosity to get the better of him.

"Just for the sake of politeness, what will we be doing in Tharbad?"

"I have some associates in need of a hobbit translator who are meeting us there."

Bilbo hummed in thought. Well as far as adventures go...that wasn't too terrible he supposed. It wasn't like Gandalf asked him to burgle from a dragon.

"A translator for what exactly?"

"Ah, well...I'll leave that to our friends to explain." Gandalf grunted. "It's quite a story after all, and they have come a long way."

Bilbo resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Do I get to know where they are traveling from at least?"

Gandalf hesitated for a long moment, unsettling him a fair bit, before he finally answered in a soft tone.

"Erebor."

Bilbo felt his entire body seize as he coughed out the bit of pipe smoke that he managed to inhale. When he could finally breathe again, he noticed his hands shaking on the pony's reins. All those years pouring over maps with his father came flooding back. Oh yes, he knew where Erebor was all too well. More importantly he knew what it was.

"Erebor...is a dwarven kingdom."

"Very astute, Mister Baggins." Gandalf stated.

Bilbo balked wondering if the wizard could truly be that obtuse. Bilbo pulled hard on the reins, bringing Myrtle to an unsteady stop as she neighed her protest at the rough treatment. Gandalf was forced to stop and turn, his grey eyes weary as he peered down at Bilbo.

"You're telling me a group of dwarves willingly agreed to meet with a hobbit translator?"

Gandalf held his stare, and it all became quite clear to him. Laughter, bordering on hysteria, bubbled out of him at the audacity of the wizard.

"You didn't tell them, did you? You were just going to lead me into the wolf's den knowing the hatred that exists between our races. Did you find such things amusing, wizard ?"

"No, Master Baggins. I found such things necessary." The wizard defended.

Bilbo's words touched on the bitterness in his heart this time as he nearly whispered.

"My mother thought it was necessary too. All the good it did her."

Gandalf's eyes were soft with sympathy. Somehow it made it worse.

"Life has not been kind to you, Bilbo Baggins. That's why I'm doing this."

Bilbo sneered. Right, to protect his next life. Lucky him, whoever he ended up being. Because Bilbo was quite certain he will be dead.

"I will be at your side the whole time. No harm will befall you with this Company. Of that you have my word."

Bilbo's eyes turned back to the northwest. Where his home lay. Safe and sound.

"But," Gandalf sighed. "I know that I ask a lot of you. I will respect your choice, whatever that may be."

With that, Gandalf began to ride onward again without so much as a glance back. Now was Bilbo's chance. It had been fun while it lasted, but now it was time to go home. For some reason though, he was frozen. Maybe some part of him didn't want his mother to have died in vain. Maybe he felt a need to prove himself. Maybe he was suicidal. Whatever the reason, against his better judgment, Bilbo heaved a sigh before kicking Myrtle back into trailing the grey wizard.

"If you don't keep your word, Wizard, I'm screaming at the next life to kick you right in the knees."

Gandalf laughed heartily, settling Bilbo some. "Fair enough, Master Hobbit. If we should fail I will endeavor to avoid the Shire at all costs."

Bilbo huffed around the stem of his pipe. Not that Gandalf had been spending just a large amount of time in the Shire to begin with.

"Now I remember you having quite the fondness for riddles, if that's still the case?"

Bilbo smirked before launching into one of his favorites. Trading teasers back and forth before moving on to poetry. It did its job in keeping him distracted until night began to fall and they made their camp a little ways off the road. Bilbo struggled with going to sleep that night, and immediately he was transported into another memory. But this one was of a hobbit he knew. Although the scenery was unfamiliar to him.

Paladin made his way across the deep chasm along the narrow stone walkway. He strode forward with his head high and shoulders back, even as his heart seemed about ready to pound its way right out of his chest. The faces glaring down at him did not seem happy in the slightest, the king all but glowering as Paladin approached. He pulled at the collar of his shirt suddenly uncomfortably warm before bowing deeply as Gandalf advised him.

"Your Majesty, King Dain, I come on behalf of the Shire as their Thain to negotiate peace between our people."

Paladin remained bent as Gandalf instructed until he was spoken to. The silence stretched on, and he could feel the heat of humiliation rising to his cheeks. Just when he was about to break protocol and demand the respect of his station, he heard the king's deep voice and far too close.

"Looks more like a grocer than a Thain."

Paladin pulled himself up, only to stare straight into the icy eyes of the dwarf king.

"Tell me, Zantulbasn (hairy foot). What peace would you seek from a kingdom that has nothing to do with you or your people?"

"Well, that's entirely the problem, isn't it? Your people in Ered Luin won't have anything to do with mine. We could be good neighbors, but we aren't even given the chance! While seeking advice from my allies, I was told, Ered Mithrin would be a good place to start."

"Indeed?" The king raised an eyebrow. "Tell me, Thain, do you know of the Amrâb Hufrel (soul's betrayal of all betrayal)?"

Paladin paused, something niggling at the back of his mind even as he shook his head.

"It doesn't ring a bell, no."

King Dain looked at his council and guards then, raising his eyebrows as he did so. "To have the short memories of the malkân (halflings)."

They all started to chuckle, and Paladin frowned.

"Your Majesty..."

"Itkit (Silence)!"

Paladin froze at the unfamiliar word as King Dain glared down at him.

"You wish for peace? There can be no peace until a wrong has been righted. One made by your people. Disdain and disregard is the price you pay for that crime. It's no fault of mine that you don't know when it is something we will never forget."

Paladin took a deep breath and released it slowly even if he couldn't unfurrow the fists at his side.

"What must I do?"

"Do?" The king echoed.

"To right the wrong. What can I do to see peace between us once more?"

The king snorted before turning and stalking back to his throne. Clearly, done with Paladin and his request. For a moment, Paladin feared he wouldn't get an answer. That he would have to go back home with nothing to show for his journey.

"I don't know." He finally scoffed. "How about you start with stealing from a dragon?"

***

Bilbo chewed on the stem of his pipe even if he was no longer able to get any smoke out of it. By about midday, the skies had opened up and released Nienna's sorrow upon the land. A light rain, but steady nonetheless. Bilbo sat on Mrytle's back wet, cold, and more irritated with Gandalf over this mission.

He hadn't known about Paladin's journey to the dwarves. He didn't know what to make of it, or the dwarf king's request. He did know that it made his own journey feel more of a fool's errand than ever. By the time they had made it to Tharbad that evening, Bilbo wanted nothing more than a warm meal and a soft bed, pushing off any business until the next day at the least. Bilbo could tell from Gandalf's expression, he wouldn't get that lucky.

The light rain had turned into a torrential downpour by the time Bilbo and Gandalf reached the inn. Myrtle seemed to shift uncomfortably in the tightly compact streets and to the curiously confused stares which Bilbo wasn't sure that he blamed her one bit. A couple of stablehands came to help him down from the mount and lead her away from some well deserved rest, and Bilbo found himself a little saddened by her departure. She had been a good companion to him after all.

"Come along, Bilbo. No need to dawdle." Gandalf ordered in a rather bright tone.

Bilbo resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the taller man, but followed along nevertheless. He shivered on the doormat appreciating the warm and bright atmosphere as he dutifully removed his coat and wiped his feet off. The wizard seemed to care not or at least mind not his lack of common manners as he swept away to the front desk.

"Evening Sir. A room for you and your young ward?" The innkeeper asked politely enough.

"Yes, although I'm certain my companion would prefer his own lodgings." Gandalf instructed, far too amused for Bilbo's liking.

The innkeeper's eyes widened as he recognized his mistake immediately.

"Begging your pardon, Sir. We haven't had much of the little folk in awhile. Well, aside from those dwarves that arrived a few days ago."

"Dwarves you say?" Gandalf asked conversationally.

"Yes, Sir! Fourteen of them. Came from some place out East. Real mysterious, that lot, but shouldn't be any trouble to you or your friend."

"I should hope not. Thank you, I believe my hobbit friend and I would like to partake in a meal before we retire for the evening."

"Of course, Sir! Just through that doorway there. Elise is waiting tables tonight and will see to any needs you have."

Gandalf swept off in the indicated direction with a nary a care as to whether Bilbo was following or not. The hobbit sighed before nodding and thanking the innkeeper as well. Stepping into the open doorway, his senses were immediately assaulted by the rowdy bar songs and crude scent of ale and body odor. He gripped his coat a little tighter as eyes traced his path after the wizard. Gandalf chose a corner slightly out of the way, but with a view of the entire bar. If he was bothered by the stares, he did nothing to reveal it, lighting a pipe he dug out of his pocket with naught but his fingers.

"Joining me?" He asked the hobbit.

Bilbo could feel his nose twitch in place of an answer as he put all of his energy into glaring the wizard down.

"Are we not going to find your dwarves?"

"My dear Bilbo," Gandalf chuckled. "Have some patience! We need not seek that which will find us in due time."

The hobbit scoffed at Gandalf's 'words of wisdom' and turned his gaze outside the window. It was such a dark and gloomy night, he could hardly see the rain falling through the glass. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning careened from the sky to light up the outside, and Bilbo had to fight hard not to yelp at the hooded figure staring back.

"Whatever has you so excited?" Gandalf questioned noticing Bilbo's quickened breath and difficulty swallowing.

"Outside...there was..." Bilbo tried to explain.

"Here you gentlemen are." Elise interrupted, placing two bowls of beef stew before them.

Distracted by finally getting to eat something substantial, Bilbo almost had the terrifying ordeal placed completely out of mind until the cloaked figure appeared suddenly at their table. Bilbo cursed as he startled so badly, he dumped his spoonful straight into his lap. The dwarf, for the dark haired being could be nothing else with his size and beard, though not as impressive as Bilbo was led to believe, only stared at him with contempt in his blue eyes. When he finally chose to address them, his attention turned to Gandalf.

"You're late." The dwarf accused.

"A wizard is neither early nor late, but shows up exactly when they're meant to."

Bilbo hid his snort well, though not too well as it caught the dwarf's gaze once more. The hobbit was feeling more and more unnerved by his staring, and it was beginning to make him warm under the collar as he pulled uncomfortably at his cravat.

"I didn't realize your so-called expert would be a Halfling. Would have preferred the elf to this."

"Who better to translate Hobbitish than a hobbit himself?" Gandalf attempted to break the growing tension. "Besides, Bilbo here is a lover of history and adventures both. There's no better individual out there to suit your purposes."

The dwarf sneered, looking as if he had smelled something particularly foul. Bilbo couldn't decide how offended he wanted to be under the icy blue glare that made him inexplicably nervous for some reason.

"I'll alert the others to your arrival." The dwarf finally growled, turning and walking away as quickly as possible.

Bilbo waited until his heart rate returned to normal before shooting the wizard an incredulous glare.

"Just who was that?"

"Thorin Oakenshield!" Gandalf declared, merrily scooping another spoonful of stew. "Your employer."

Bilbo snorted as he also decided to tuck back into his meal.

"Well, I suppose that just proves my point for me. Dwarves hold no love for hobbits. I would worry for my state of being if it weren't for your presence, Gandalf. Goodness! What a most unpleasant fellow."

Feeling the weight of eyes on him, Bilbo looked up only to see Gandalf's stern glare of disapproval.

"What?" He demanded.

"I brought you here to help, not make things worse. Keep an open mind, my dear Bilbo."

Bilbo spluttered with an incredulous laugh. "Did you not just see...? You know what, never mind. It doesn't matter what you say. I know the truth."

"The truth, my friend, is far more complicated than what meets the eye."

"Is that what you told Paladin too?"

Gandalf blinked before lowering his gaze. It didn't take much for Bilbo to figure out his predecessor met a nasty end.

"That's what I thought." Bilbo answered softly in the waiting silence. "Here's what we are going to do. I'm going to complete this task, whatever it is with you there with me. I'm going to part from these dwarves, and go back to the Shire and Bag End where I belong."

Gandalf looked grave as he nodded with a drawn out sigh. "So be it."

Bilbo nodded, pleased that they had finally settled that. "Now, let's go meet these dwarves."

A private sitting room in the back of the inn was where they were headed, and even through the door, Bilbo could hear the merry, rowdy gathering happening on the other side. Gandalf knocked though, and it became eerily quiet. Bilbo forced himself to take a deep breath, inched a bit closer to Gandalf's side before facing what was before him. Fourteen sets of eyes, glaring right at him. Not even a smile to belie their previous amusement. Bilbo was determined not to show how much it unnerved him as he raised his head high and entered the room proudly.

" Kuluk zantulbasn (Treacherous hobbit) ."

Bilbo didn't even bother looking to see who had said something. It followed him all the way to two chairs waiting at the end of the table. He could feel the hairs standing on his neck, but he carried on as coolly and calmly as he could.

Next to the empty seats was the dwarf Bilbo had met earlier, and someone who looked an awful lot like him. The other dwarf had lighter hair, a longer beard, and more heavily braided, but it was more than obvious they were brothers. Especially with the near identical scowl they both wore as Bilbo and Gandalf took their places.

The tension was thick and hanging in the air, no one daring to be the first to break it. Sweat dripped down the side of his forehead, but he met the heated gazes aimed at him coolly. After all, he had a wizard on his side. That had to count for something. Possibly the only reason he was still alive.

"So tell us of your travels, Thorin." Gandalf encouraged after getting his pipe lit. "Were you successful?"

Thorin raised an eyebrow giving another pointed glare at Bilbo before telling his tale.

"As you said, the hidden door on the west side was unguarded. Although you failed to tell us there would be a password. Luckily, Ori was able to solve the riddle for us."

Thorin indicated to the least hostile of the dwarves, a younger looking lad with red hair who smiled and nodded at the acknowledgement.

"That became the least of our problems as we ended up battling a horde of goblins to get to our destination and stood face to face with Durin's Bane on our way out."

"Ugh, don't remind me! That was like seeing my worst nightmare come to life before my eyes." The dwarf beside Thorin complained.

All the dwarves started mumbling amongst each other in agreement. Curiosity got the better of Bilbo wondering just what this 'Durin's Bane' was, but not daring to ask the question.

"Indeed?" Gandalf remarked gravely, eyebrows shooting under the brim of his hat. "And however did you get away?"

"How else?" The bald, gruff dwarf answered. "We ran for it and managed to get lucky."

More grumbling went around, and it seemed to Bilbo as if they were teasing each other on how close they came to dying! Dwarves certainly were a strange lot at the very least. Thorin held up his hand, and the chatter stopped.

"In any case," he stated. "We have survived our journey through Khazad-dûm and bring you this...as requested."

A book was slid across the table towards Gandalf. Well, book might be generous. The binding was barely there, the cover layered in dust, and pages brittle and breaking away. Very carefully, Gandalf brushed off the front to reveal lettering. Not just any lettering either! Why, it was a very ancient form of hobbitish. Bilbo leaned closer to the wizard, furrowing his brow as he tried to make sense of it. A niggling at the back of his mind, almost like a faint memory, came forth and suddenly he was able to read the words with no problem.

"Madoc Fallohide, Consort of Durin's Folk."

"How dare you!"

Bilbo looked up in fright as the dwarf with the bushy red beard glared at him, spitting off to the side along with the rest.

"To utter that name in this company."

Bilbo was rather frightened to see the rest of the dwarves looked downright murderous. Just who was Madoc and what had he done to them?!

"Now Gloin, don't blame Mr. Baggins. He knows not what that name means to the dwarves, particularly the ones in this company, and he was doing that which he has been brought to do. Read the manuscript."

Thorin gave a bitter laugh at this. "How convenient is the short memory of the Halflings."

There were grunts of agreement at this, but Bilbo was almost startled by the familiarity of the wording. It was just like that king that Paladin met in his dream the other night.

"But we'll do it your way. If only because we are so close to seeing the end of this quest."

"And what exactly is your quest?" Bilbo demanded of the dwarf.

Thorin's eyes were like ice, yet it didn't freeze Bilbo. It made his blood boil.

"A perfectly reasonable question, Bilbo. Seeing as you are here to translate this journal to find it for us." Gandalf remarked with a pointed look in Thorin's direction.

The dwarf sighed through his nose, looking away with an angry scowl. When he turned back to them, his eyes were no less hard, but his mouth had lost some of the tension.

"We seek the jewel known as the Arkenstone."

Bilbo waited for the rest, but after a long moment of silence realized that was it. They had traveled into the bowels of a dead kingdom, faced goblins and other foul things...for a gem.

"And why is this jewel so important?"

"It's of no business of yours." The dwarf next to Thorin spoke up. "All we need are the directions translated from that book. Now hop to it, Halfling."

Bilbo fumed especially when some of the other dwarves started laughing or repeating the direction. At least the sooner he got this done, the sooner he was out of here. He slid the book over to him carefully, opening the front cover, and waving away the dust that puffed up in a cloud to choke him.

This is the personal account of Madoc Fallohide of the Clan Fallohide, Consort to King Durin VI of Khazad-dûm...

A hobbit consort of a dwarven city? Could such a thing have really existed? A cough interrupted Bilbo's train of thought as he looked up to see every dwarf openly glaring in his direction. How was he supposed to get anything done this way?

"Right, well Gandalf and I will just take this back to our room and I'll report my findings to you tomorrow morning." Bilbo decided.

"No." Thorin interrupted. "I've faced too much to let that book out of my sight. You will read it here."

"I can't concentrate with all this hostility!" Bilbo complained.

"You want to see hostility, Halfling?" The bald dwarf grinned.

"ENOUGH!" Gandalf jumped to his feet.

Shadows stretched out from every corner of the room as his voice deepened. Even Bilbo leaned away from him, his heart pounding in his chest at the sight. Then it was gone in the blink of an eye as if it were never there to begin with.

"You will not find anyone more qualified to read that tome than Mister Baggins. Unless you want your hard work to have been in vain, I think you can grant him some leniency in this instance."

For all that he had complained about the wizard up until this point, Bilbo couldn't be happier for his presence. Which is why he felt so betrayed by his next words.

"Let the rest of the company leave with me back to the common room, and Thorin and Mister Baggins remain to uncover the secrets of the journal."

"No, Gandalf! No, no, no..."

"Thorin, you can't be considering..."

Thorin held up his hand to silence the other dwarves, his eyes glued to Gandalf. He took a deep breath.

"Fine, we'll do things your way."

The dwarves immediately began protesting again, but a single word had them all quiet and leaving. Gandalf gave Bilbo a good natured pat as he got up to leave as well. Bilbo tried to reason with the wizard, but a closed door in his face was all he received in the end. Bilbo heaved a sigh as he glared at the door. He couldn't believe Gandalf just left him.

"Well? Let's have it, Halfling."

Bilbo rolled his eyes while his back was still to the dwarf before returning to his seat. Best just to get it over with, he supposed. He was just scanning the contents for information about a jewel. He thought the silence would be easier to stomach without everyone. It turned out, it was even more uncomfortable with just Thorin.

"Did you know that this book belonged to the Consort?" Bilbo asked.

"Yes." Thorin growled.

"And that he introduced feasting halls to the mountain?"

Thorin hesitated, his eyes lighting up in interest. Bilbo knew that look. He had seen that look on his father's face every time he shared his dreams.

"You're a historian." Bilbo marveled.

Thorin's expression fell back into a scowl. He seemed to hesitate before answering.

"Of a sort."

Bilbo smiled as he turned his eyes back down to the book.

"Are you sure you don't want me to translate everything? It's quite interesting..."

"No!" Thorin interrupted before heaving a sigh and repeating himself. "No. The less I know of that ushnakh (traitor), the better."

Bilbo closed his eyes tightly before letting it drift down to the book below him. He didn't understand it at all, but this Madoc hurt the dwarves somehow. It was the reason for their cruelness not just to him, but to Paladin as well. It didn't excuse it, not really. But it was an explanation at least. Feeling as if he tasted something sour, Bilbo proceeded to find a middle ground with Thorin.

"I'm sorry that Mad- that this person hurt you."

"You can't even conceive the hurt he's done." Thorin growled. "Save your pity and do what you were hired to do. The quicker you finish, the quicker we can leave each other's presence."

Bilbo's lips pressed together tightly to bite back the retort on the tip of his tongue. Yet, Thorin was right. Why prolong the inevitable? As if centuries of hurt would be eased only because Bilbo said 'sorry'. They would leave this meeting, and Thorin would still carry his prejudice against hobbits in the same way Bilbo would carry his prejudice against dwarves. Bilbo's already learned the road to peace would not be paved with the help of any hobbit.

Yet maybe that's why Bilbo found himself fascinated by this Madoc. He couldn't believe it. There was actually a point where dwarves and hobbits got along. He wondered what happened. He also wondered if it was that long ago, why the dwarves weren't able to just let it go. One thing was for certain. Madoc had been head over heels in love with his husband. His soulmate. Bilbo's right hand shook a bit, and he quickly pushed the thought aside. Just uncover the stone and be done with it.

Bilbo was almost to the end then he came across the word Arkenstone. In fact, Madoc seemed agitated about it. Bilbo turned the next page...and there was nothing. It was back to regular court life. Bilbo furrowed his brows going back a page to make sure he was reading that correctly.

"What is it?" Thorin demanded, immediately taking notice.

"There's a jump here almost like...like there's a missing page. Maybe more than one. I'm sorry, it was leading up to something about the Arkenstone, and then it just cut off."

Thorin ran a hand down his face. "Of course it's missing."

Bilbo shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sorry. Truly. Here, this is what it says. I'm beginning to see the Arkenstone is the source. It's everything. So I'm taking it to my elf friend in the Hidden Valley. Maybe he can help me liberate it fully from the dwarves. "

Thorin didn't say anything, but from the way his knuckles whitened, Bilbo was getting nervous.

"So be it. To Rivendell we go next. Be ready to leave at dawn."

"What?" Bilbo gasped. "You can't be serious!"

Thorin reached into his tunic counting out a handful of coins that he dumped on the table.

"You'll receive the other half of your fee when you finish translating what you came here to translate."

"No!" Bilbo argued. "I'm not going to Rivendell with you."

Thorin hesitated for half a step before continuing on towards the door.

"Fine. Then I will tell the wizard to find us another expert. It makes no difference to me."

He was almost out of the room before Bilbo called out one more time.

"What about Mad...the book?" He quickly corrected himself.

Thorin looked at it with a mixture of curiosity and disdain.

"Burn it for all I care." He finally answered.

Bilbo tried not to flinch at the slam of the door as he clutched the book a little tighter to himself. Alone at last. Well, good riddance! It wasn't like Bilbo needed to go galavanting across Arda following the rude dwarves and their curious quest. Surely if Madoc went to Rivendell, the elves could translate for them! Bilbo certainly didn't owe it to them. Not one bit. And yet...

He must be out of his mind, but there was something to how much Madoc loved his dwarves. To the prejudices that couldn't be let go, and Paladin's willingness to try anyways. He looked down at the book clutched tightly to his chest, reminding himself he couldn't fix this overnight. No matter what Gandalf or his mother thought. He didn't want to fix it. Not really. Let that be someone else's job.

"I come on behalf of the Shire as their Thain to negotiate peace between our people."

He wasn't just anyone, though. It's a path he's already tried before, and he would imagine try again. Something deep inside of him that felt old and ancient and yearning for the world Madoc wrote about. This was why he couldn't feel satisfied in the Shire. This was why Gandalf brought him specifically, and Bilbo couldn't decide if he hated him for it or not.

If nothing else, it seemed Bilbo was his parents' child. Mesmerized by the mystery and history of the stories weaving together like his father. Taking a suicidal chance to bridge an impossible divide, just like his mother. Which fate would be his in the end?