Soul Traitor

Credit goes to SunnyRose

Chapter 6: Chapter 5- Old Hurts Heal Slowly

Summary:

The company finally reaches Rivendell and secrets are shared.

If Bilbo had thought their journey couldn't be any more uncomfortable, he would have been wrong. He almost wished they would go back to making him sit by himself again when they set up camp. Gone were the days of listening to the dwarves' merrymaking. Bofur and Ori would make sure to drag him next to the fire with the other dwarves where they sat mostly in silence.

Frerin hadn't stopped his obvious distaste of him, but he at least tried to hide it around Thorin. The rest of the dwarves were split between those who were wary around him, those who didn't understand why he didn't seem pleased with Thorin's declaration, and those who were doing their best to include him. And then there was Thorin who, most complexing of all, hadn't changed his attitude towards Bilbo in any way, shape, or form. If this was the way he treated his friends... but then, of course, Bilbo wasn't a dwarf-friend. Not yet at least. Apparently he still needed to prove himself. Saving them all from angry soul-sucking demons wasn't enough.

"So Bilbo...what's the Shire like?" Bombur asked after a long stretch of silence.

Bilbo was attempting to get his pipe lit and wasn't able to answer the dwarf right away. Something he could tell grated on their sensibilities. Not that Bilbo realized dwarves had a lot of that in the first place. Finally, he had a spark and puffed on the bowl until he could feel that sweet and bitter Longbottom Leaf bursting through the stem. His shoulders slumped having desperately needed that.

"It's beautiful." Bilbo grumbled, realizing they were all still waiting for an answer. "Probably the most beautiful place I know."

It was after the words left his mouth that he noticed the lack of inflection in his voice. He frowned slightly around his pipe stem before shaking his head deciding it wasn't worth investigating.

"Well, it's not like you've been to very many places." Fili scoffed, earning a hard elbow from his brother a moment later.

"Aye! You should see Erebor! The stone gleams in shades of green with rivers of gold." Gloin boasted proudly.

Bilbo did his absolute best not to roll his eyes at that. He had no doubt Erebor had its beauty...for what he imagined was a very elaborate cave. However, there was no way he would ever be allowed to see the dwarves' most precious kingdom. Besides, he had been to many places...in his past lives, and found them all lacking in comparison to the Shire. He didn't share that tidbit either.

"What about your family?" Bofur pressed when Bilbo was no longer forthcoming with information.

Bilbo had numerous relations, but none that he was close to. His mark never allowed him the chance to be. Instead, it was easier to answer with a simple word.

"Gone." He remarked.

He tried not to bristle under the pitying looks he received at that.

"Is there...anyone waiting for you back home?" Ori pried gently.

"Waiting?" Bilbo laughed. "No, I'm quite sure they won't expect to see me ever again."

"Why's that?" Balin asked.

Bilbo looked up at him before turning his gaze back to the flames before him.

"Hobbits that leave the Shire...don't ever make it back. With one small exception, but not for the lack of trying mind you."

"Who would that be?" Kili asked curiously.

Bilbo opened his mouth to answer, only for the words to get stuck in his throat. He shook his head, doing his best to dislodge the memories that threatened to overcome him.

"That...is a story for another day." Bilbo declared, tuning out the groans and pleas. "Good night."

Bilbo stomped his way over to his bedroll that he still kept on the edge of the campsite. A couple of the dwarves, like Kili and Nori, had tried to move theirs closer to his, but gave up when he just moved his further away. He didn't need their comradery. He had been doing just fine up to this point without it.

"Master Baggins?"

Bilbo didn't scream, but it was a near thing. Instead, he whirled around, hand clutched to his chest as he glared at the tall dwarf leaning against the tree beside his spot.

"Don't scare me like that!" Bilbo gasped. "I thought dwarves were supposed to be loud?"

Bilbo could have sworn he saw the edges of Thorin's mouth lift up into a small smirk, but it was gone within the next blink of an eye. Probably just a play of the light then. Bilbo looked back towards the camp to see if anyone had noticed where their leader was at, and found himself subjected to Frerin's trademark glare. He mentally groaned as he looked away. It wasn't like he asked for the dwarf to come over here!

"I don't think your brother is very pleased that you're talking to me." Bilbo remarked drily.

He was completely floored when Thorin actually rolled his eyes at this.

"He forgets sometimes that I am the eldest and perfectly capable of taking care of myself." He growled.

"Well." Bilbo stated. "Perhaps you should go over there and remind him."

His subtle hint to get the dwarf to leave was completely ignored, much to Bilbo's dismay.

"Actually, I wish to speak to you if you were amiable." Thorin stated, stepping a bit closer.

Bilbo took a step back to maintain their distance.

"What if I weren't amiable?"

Thorin frowned before choosing to plow on with what he wanted to say anyways.

"It's been pointed out to me that my apology may have been inadequate..."

"It wasn't. Apology accepted." Bilbo returned, hoping that would be enough to get the dwarf to leave him alone.

A tick in the dwarf's jaw let Bilbo know just how well he was accepting Bilbo's curt responses. Good. Finally getting a taste of his own medicine.

"Were you injured?" Thorin suddenly asked instead.

"What?" Bilbo asked, perplexed.

Thorin nodded to Bilbo's hand instead. The one he always kept covered, somehow, some way. Currently, it was nothing more than dirty and fraying strips of cloth that kept his palm covered. Bilbo could immediately understand how the dwarf thought it was an injury as he tightened it into a fist as a reflex.

"Oin is very good at what he does. He would probably be more than happy to..."

"Thank you, but no. It's an old injury, not a recent one."

There was another pause as Bilbo felt Thorin getting more miffed by the second. He honestly wondered why the dwarf was still trying at this point.

"If you're worried about getting home safely," Thorin growled, each word measured. "I will gladly see to it that you are escorted back to the Shire."

Bilbo grinned, far too sharply for it to be any form of friendly. "No, you won't."

Thorin looked caught off-guard before anger contorted his face. He opened his mouth to defend himself, and Bilbo rushed in to say his piece.

"We will get to Rivendell, find the rest of the journal, and you will take off in pursuit of your quest. See, I already know how this works. And I made the choice. I will live with the consequences. This is a business transaction, nothing more. So please, with as much respect as I can muster, hold onto whatever honor or obligation dictates that you must concern yourself with my well being. Because it is absolutely not necessary."

Thorin didn't visibly react beyond the increased furrowing of his brow. Bilbo held his stare, not backing down this time. Finally, the dwarf looked away.

"As you wish." He snapped before marching back towards the rest of his company.

Bilbo waited until he was well out of earshot before he heaved a large sigh. He was sure Thorin thought he was being particularly obtuse. He wouldn't pretend to know all the nuances in their culture that came with saving someone's life, but based on the dramatic declarations outside the Downs, he could guess. Maybe he thought Bilbo would be grateful and accommodating, only to be doused by the reality of their exchange. Not that Bilbo cared one whit about what Thorin Oakenshield thought. Bilbo threw himself down into his bedroll with his back to the dwarves, doing his best to forget he was a lone hobbit amongst insufferable dwarves at least for one night.

***

It didn't escape Bilbo on the road the next day that he was being quite contradictory. Had he not made a meal to try and gain the dwarves' friendship? And here he was sulking when they gave it to him. Perhaps it was because it didn't feel genuine. It felt owed. Had the wights left them alone that night, would Bilbo not still be the outcast?

It was a thought that never left him. Despite Bofur's cheerful disposition, despite Ori's wealth of knowledge, despite Kili's humorous stories, despite Nori's mischievous antics. So he held onto his irritability, held onto his disgruntlement until he had succeeded in making everyone feel awkward around him. Bilbo immediately regretted it as silence seemed to permeate most of the remaining trip.

The day they heard the songs of the elves high in the tree branches, Bilbo rejoiced even as the dwarves muttered in their language around him. He knew what it meant. An end to his suffering, an end to their journey. Finally, they had reached Rivendell, and it was every bit as beautiful as Bilbo had seen in his past life dreams. White marble balconies, picturesque gardens, tall waterfalls filling up clear ponds, and a calm and quiet that seeped into his very bones. More importantly though, it signaled the end of their journey. Just another translation and Bilbo could leave this company behind.

Elrond welcomed them warmly and invited them to dine with him even with the dwarves acting coldly and suspiciously. Bilbo did his best to distance himself as much as possible only to earn a double take from the elf lord himself. Bilbo felt himself freeze under the look. Did he know who Bilbo was? Did he remember...the last time Bilbo had been here? If he did, he didn't give any indication as he merely smiled warmly and nodded his head towards him. Bilbo heaved a sigh of relief. One that didn't go unnoticed as he turned to see Thorin's eyes trained on him. Bilbo was quick to hurry after the others down the hall.

The dining room they were led to was more of a large balcony. The setting sun made a beautiful backdrop for the two tables the elves were bustling around. There was a shorter but longer table where the company was intended to sit, and of course the smaller, taller table for Lord Elrond and their leaders, Frerin and Thorin. Bilbo resigned himself to sitting next to Ori and Bofur when Thorin called him over to his side.

"Join us." He demanded.

Bilbo narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

Thorin's frown became more pronounced and his eyes narrowed before he answered in his gruff drawl.

"Because you are our translator and therefore, can answer questions better about what it is we are looking for."

That did not make any sense to him. They were looking for torn pages from a journal in Hobbitish. Thorin and Frerin could answer that just as well as he could, and from the glare Frerin was currently shooting at him, it was clear the younger prince thought the same. When Bilbo turned back to Thorin though, he could see the dwarf preparing himself to make the argument. Bilbo sighed, not wanting to hear it, and did what was asked of him as he took the seat closest to Elrond. Thorin settled himself on the other side of Bilbo and Frerin next to Thorin but directly across from Bilbo. This was going to be the most uncomfortable dinner of his life and he's dined with the Burrows and the Brockhouses when they were still feuding over Bungo's choice in smial architect for Bag End.

"Master Hobbit, good to see you. I do believe it's been quite awhile since I last hosted one of your people."

Bilbo having just had this past life dream a couple of nights ago was able to immediately recall Elrond's last hobbit visitor. A young Thain who preferred to be called Leggy and only wanted to find peace for his people.

***

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me." Leggy stated as he took a sip of his tea.

"Of course." Elrond smiled. "It is not so long ago in my mind that I was watching your ancestors cross through these very lands on their way to the Shire. But I would imagine catching up on what is only history to your eyes is not exactly your purpose."

Leggy gave a bitter laugh. "Actually, that's precisely the reason I'm here. Although, it is not our wandering years that interest me."

Elrond inclined his head, giving the full measure of his gaze.

"I am listening."

"The dwarves of the Blue Mountains are becoming...a problem." Leggy admitted, rubbing his forehead. "I foresee a day very soon where they might even become...antagonistic towards our people. And we don't even know the reason for the offense in the first place!" Leggy jumped up to start pacing. "I've tried reaching out, leader to leader, but the lord refused! Told me to mind me and my own. Can you believe that? I told him that I was in fact 'minding me and my own' and that was my reason for reaching out in the first place. Never got a return letter. It just gulls me, it really does. If I knew what the bloody problem was, I would obviously do my best to fix it, but I can even seem to get that simple answer out of them!"

Leggy didn't pant when he finished, but it was a near thing. Instead he collapsed back in his chair with his hands covering his face. Lord Elrond said nothing for a long time, and when he did, it didn't seem to make much sense to Leggy at all.

"How familiar are you with Khazad-dum?"

Leggy peeked at him from between his fingers, gauging how serious the elf was before dropping his hands entirely.

"Not at all, I'm afraid." He sighed. "I assume it is some sort of dwarven city."

"It was. " Elrond emphasized. "And it is the root of all your problems."

Leggy's brow pinched together.

"I don't understand."

Elrond gazed off into the distance almost as if he could see the very city if he looked hard enough.

"There was a slight one of your ancestors made against the King of the Longbeards. That is the wound all dwarves refuse to let heal. If you truly want to fix the relations between your people and the dwarves of the Blue Mountain, you will have to journey to the Grey Mountains and speak to King Dain. I must warn you though, he bears the scabs more bitter than you've encountered. It will not be an...amicable meeting."

Leggy huffed. No, he's learned rather quickly that dwarves were anything but amicable. He drummed his fingers upon the arm of his chair.

"Would it be a productive one though?"

"If you can get him to hear you out and let you help? Yes, I dare say it would be of benefit to both races."

Leggy continued to drum his fingers before finally letting out a sigh.

"Then what choice do I have, really?"

***

"Yes, I believe it was Thain Paladin the First if I'm not mistaken." Bilbo answered absentmindedly.

Elrond gave him a small smile and an assessing look. "You have a good memory. It was indeed Paladin who last graced my halls."

"How is it that I know that name?" Frerin mumbled, narrowing his eyes at Bilbo.

"He's the hobbit who approached Dain the First and woke up the cold-drake." Thorin answered.

Bilbo felt himself flinch even though there was nothing accusing in Thorin's tone. Merely like he was recounting a fact, and given that he was a historian, that was most likely what he was doing. Frerin, on the other hand, seemed to be dripping in malice when he responded.

"Oh, yes. Another hobbit doing our people a favor. "

Bilbo narrowed his eyes. "You would be dead and buried in the Downs if it wasn't for me doing you a favor. "

Frerin scowled, clearly needing no additional reminders over what Bilbo had done, while Thorin smoothly interjected himself between the two.

"And for that, we are immensely grateful."

Some more than others it would seem, but Bilbo wasn't about to let that dwarf ruin the first meal he's had in weeks that hadn't needed to be cooked over a campfire. He took a sip of his wine to see Elrond was watching them all with raised brows. Bilbo winced wondering what sort of spectacle he had just made. If the lord was offended, he certainly didn't act like it though.

"It seems you have had an eventful journey thus far. What is it you're hoping I can do for you?"

Thorin looked over to Bilbo almost as if he were expecting Bilbo to take the lead on this. Bilbo subtly shook his head with a furrowed brow causing the dwarf to sigh. He was the leader of the company! Not Bilbo. Honestly, Bilbo did not know what was bouncing around in that dwarf's thick skull. Even Frerin was looking at Thorin like he had lost his mind.

"We're looking for the Arkenstone." Thorin finally declared. "We know that it came here before reaching its final destination."

Elrond's brows furrowed together. "If that is the case, I had no such knowledge of it. Nor do I know where it rests now."

This time Thorin seemed to bore his gaze into Bilbo, not backing down in the slightest this time. Bilbo made a show of rolling his eyes as he fished the journal out of his bag.

"No, and we certainly weren't accusing you of anything." Bilbo was quick to remedy, shooting a look at Thorin. "It's just that Madoc... the Consort ," He corrected after Thorin and Frerin flinched. "Wrote to say that he was coming here, and then the pages afterwards have been ripped out. We think he might have hidden the pages indicating where he was headed here in Rivendell."

Elrond carefully took the journal, his eyes following the words Bilbo had previously translated. His brows furrowed together as he gently closed the book and handed it back to Bilbo. He didn't say anything for a long moment. So much in fact that Bilbo looked to Thorin for help only to have the dwarf shrug.

"He did come here." Elrond finally admitted. "He was looking for guidance. I didn't know anything about what he had or what he planned to do with it. Although I wish he had confided in me."

Bilbo felt his heart clench at the disappointment evident in Elrond's eyes. Sometimes he forgot just how timeless the elves were. Not just in the since of their immortality, but the fleeting touches of mortals upon their souls. Madoc was clearly a dear friend for Elrond to still carry so much regret for centuries after the event.

"I don't know anything about the missing pages though." He remarked after a moment. "Of course, you are more than welcome to have access to our library for your research. I can't say you will find what you are looking for, but you never know where inspiration might spring forth."

He looked to Bilbo as he said this, making the hobbit wary. Thorin grudgingly thanked him for the opportunity. Thorin asked after other places Madoc might have hidden the pages, and Elrond obliged him as best he could. Bilbo had the feeling that their company was about to be very busy peeling the elven home apart for these pages. And upon learning that it was the room he had been assigned that Madoc had slept in, he felt even more strongly about where they were going to start.

***

Needless to say, despite the best efforts of the fourteen dwarves squeezed into Bilbo's room, they didn't find the pages that night. Thorin wasn't the least bit discouraged though, believing that the pages had to exist somewhere within the premise. He divided the dwarves up, assigning them each a sector to work through. Bilbo was rather relieved to find he had been assigned the library with Ori much to the younger dwarf's delight as well. Honestly, it seemed to be the best place to start. Where else do you find pages to a book? They would have to have been hidden somewhere clever though for no one to have come across them in the long years since Madoc's deceit.

The next morning, Bilbo and Ori leafed through as many books as they could get their hands on. Ori started with books about Khazad-dum while Bilbo jumped to the section on holbyta, not that there was much of either. It seemed the biggest collection on both subjects remained forever lost in the library of Khazad-dum itself. A shame that Bilbo and Ori both mused over as their search for the pages got lost in their desire to soak in the information before them.

By day three, Bilbo and Ori moved on to different subjects. Bilbo diving into maps and the history of Arnor itself. Ori had somehow managed to find an entire bookcase on the Valar and creation and thought it might be worth a look there. That took them another four days with no results. It was as they stared out across the vast library brimming with still unexplored books that they realized this wasn't going to be easy. It was a sentiment Thorin shared as his lips pursed more and more the longer they went on without finding those pages.

"Thorin, what if the pages are lost to time? We need to start thinking about other options." Balin urged in the quiet hallway Bilbo just happened to find them in.

"There is no other option." Thorin shot back. "Not for me."

Bilbo slowly backed away before he was discovered. He couldn't bring himself to go back to the library though. Instead, he found himself wandering out onto a balcony, watching with a small amount of amusement as Bifur dug holes in the garden below until an elf came to chase him off.

"I'm sorry I've let so much time pass before finding a chance to speak with you. I didn't want to interrupt you while you were with the dwarves."

Bilbo looked up, somewhat surprised to see Elrond smiling down at him.

"No need to apologize." Bilbo assured. "I've been the one squirreling myself away in your library after all."

Elrond gave a short nod of his head at this before placing his hand on Bilbo's shoulder.

"And how are you, mellon nín (my friend)?"

It was as Bilbo looked up into the gentle but knowing eyes of the elf lord that Bilbo realized, he knew. Bilbo's mouth fell open, but no words seemed to be set on escaping. It hit him like a hit to the gut. He knew that Bilbo was Paladin reborn. He knew the mark he bore. Bilbo's hand tightened into a fist around the strips of cloth still hiding it away for him. It didn't stop the aches that seemed to pulse from the old wound.

"I..." Bilbo attempted, still too stunned for words.

"Does...Thorin Oakenshield know?" Elrond asked, his brows furrowing together.

Bilbo rapidly shook his head, and Elrond gave his shoulder a quick squeeze before releasing him.

"Then he shall not find out from me."

Bilbo found himself curious at the phrase. What did it matter if Thorin knew? Not that Bilbo wanted him too. He wouldn't be able to stomach the questions that would certainly arise, but Elrond seemed to pick him out specifically. Or was it just because Thorin was the leader of their company?

"Thank you." Bilbo finally managed to find his voice even if it was thick and rough to the ears.

They stood in silence for a long moment, looking out towards the garden, lost in thought.

"I wish to apologize. I believe I gave you some rather poor advice when last you were here. I didn't know I was sending you to your death."

Bilbo gave the elf a small smile. "If it makes you feel better, Leggy didn't see it that way. You gave him an answer to his problem. It just...didn't go the way he wished."

"In any case, I will not see history repeat itself. They may not mean you any harm now, but traveling with these dwarves won't end well for you. It never has. I would offer you sanctuary here, should you require it."

Bilbo knew that. He's known that for quite a while now. No matter how much they tried to include him, he would never belong with these dwarves. There was too much hate. Too much pain that lied between their races. He's had no intention of continuing this journey after he's managed to translate these pages. However, Elrond was very kind to make such an offer, and Bilbo made sure to tell him so. Elrond gave him a smile and a pat to his shoulder before leaving him to his thoughts.

Bilbo went back to watching the garden. Bifur had evaded the elven gardener and was back in the same spot continuing on his hole. Bilbo chuckled under his breath and shook his head. Yes, Bilbo didn't belong to these dwarves, but he was starting to fear something that he continually tried to bury every time the thought creeped into the forefront of his mind. He was going to miss them fiercely when they're gone.

Bilbo spent the rest of the day avoiding as many people as he could, and only slipped into the library when he was certain Ori had left for the night. The oil lamps lining the room set the ambiance as Bilbo randomly chose books from a shelf to flip through in the hopes of a clue of some sort. He was so engrossed in his work, he didn't even notice the appearance of another until the chair was pulled out across from him.

"Working late tonight, Master Baggins?"

Bilbo jumped in his seat, the rather large book he had tipped to read landing heavily in his lap. Bilbo gave a grunt as he righted it, glaring out at Thorin. The dwarf didn't look the least bit contrite as he smirked back at the hobbit.

"I was rather hoping for a little peace and quiet."

"I see." Thorin responded. "Because Ori has been so hard to work with?"

"What? No!" Bilbo was quick to assure. "Ori has been wonderful."

"So then the other members of the company have been bothering you?"

Bilbo rubbed his head, starting to get a headache. "Why would the company be a bother?"

"So then it's me you have a problem with?"

Bilbo sighed heavily as he settled his gaze on the dwarf across from him. There was nothing in his eyes or movements to give away Thorin's motives. In fact, he had his head tilted to the side almost as if in genuine curiosity to the answer.

"Why do you think that?" Bilbo asked slowly. "Does this have to do with your apology the other day? Because I've already told you, I accept."

"There's that." Thorin nodded. "Because I still don't think that was genuine, which means you don't think the apology is genuine. You don't trust me."

Bilbo flinched as Thorin cut right to the heart of the problem, and all while maintaining that same air of calm detachment. Bilbo's eyes drifted down to his hands forming fists on top of the book.

"Because you trust me?" He snapped.

"I do now ." Thorin answered.

Bilbo rolled his eyes. Yes, because Bilbo didn't leave him for dead. That certainly is a reason to suddenly and completely change his views on a total stranger.

Bilbo gave a bitter laugh. "Do you? You speak in a language I can't learn, share stories from a culture I can't follow, and keep secrets I can't access. Why would I have any indication that you trust me?"

Thorin didn't say anything for a long time to that. Bilbo smirked at the book as he slowly tipped it back towards him again. It was rather unfortunate to be proven right when he had hoped that maybe Thorin was being sincere. He sighed. But that was the way of the world, wasn't it? In the end, they would never get past the feud between their races.

"I bear a mark." Thorin stated.

Bilbo was startled into dropping the book completely as it fell to the floor with a loud 'thump'. Thorin never paused in his narrative. Never broke eye contact with Bilbo.

"It is...seen as an ill omen amongst my people. My grandfather thought for the good of Erebor, he should not allow me to be king as the kings of the past with my mark are always followed by great tragedy. I was removed from the line of succession shortly after my birth. My father now rules Erebor, and he has promised me if I should find the Arkenstone, he will reinstate my true status as Crown Prince."

Bilbo opened his mouth to comment before quickly closing it as he made a fist with his clothed hand. Well that was...not so much unlike himself if Bilbo really stopped to think about it. Bilbo bowed his head, his tongue feeling far too big and clunky to make any real use of, as his cheeks flushed with heat. He did not have to return the favor. He didn't owe Thorin anything. However, he realized as that warmth spread deep down into his bones that he wanted him to know. He needed someone else to understand just how unjust his world was.

"They led my mother to her death." He explained.

Bilbo waited for a response, and it finally came in a soft voice.

"Who?"

"The dwarves of the Blue Mountains."

Notes:

*Khuzdul Names for the other Valar according to the Dwarrow Scholar-Mamahdûn - Manwë (He who has been blessed)-Usahu - Ulmo (he who pours)-Unbar - Oromë (He who warns with his horn)-Udmas - Námo (Mandos) (He who judges)-'Arkhu'gal - Irmo (Lórien) (He who desires)-Kidzulzanât - Tulkas (He with the golden hair)-Thatrûna - Varda (Elbereth) (Star-lady, Queen of the Stars)-Kaminzabdûna - Yavanna (Queen of the Earth, Giver of Grains)-Manakh-khashûna - Nienna (She who continues to show sorrow)-Madakh-khatûna - Estë (She who continues to rest)-Bebanuknar - Vairë (Lady of the Loom)-A'khatabnâm - Vána (Essence of Beauty)-Usranulkardûna - Nessa (She with the Dancing Heart)