Clarity of Vision, Chapter 9
Jun. 27th, 2013 01:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mithenTitle: Clarity of Vision, Chapter 9
Relationship: Thorin/Bilbo
Characters: Bilbo Baggins, Fíli, Kíli, Thorin, Dwalin, Balin
Fandom: Hobbit
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Rating: PG for a bit of language.
Word Count: 3000
Story Summary: In a Middle-Earth where Erebor never fell, a shadow remains in the heart of the Lonely Mountain. Bilbo Baggins finds himself drawn reluctantly into a quest that will lead him across the continent--from Bree to Lake Evendim to the icy North and beyond--with a party of five dwarves searching for an artifact that will cure the ailing King Thrór.
Chapter Summary: Thorin's company travels north along the coast toward Himring: in which there are language lessons, cold weather, and the first sight of the sea.
In later years, Bilbo would say that the weeks spent travelling from Annúminas to Himring were uneventful and hardly worth mentioning. That the riding was easy and no one was chasing them, and so there was little to relate. That he hardly remembered them.
The last assertion would be untrue--but then, happy, peaceful memories are rarely the stuff of legends.
: : :
They forded the Lune early, when it was relatively shallow, their ponies snorting and shaking their shaggy manes in disapproval on the other side. They followed the river south and west, with the Blue Mountains rising to their right, hazy indigo against the setting sun. There was game aplenty in the fertile valley of the Lune: pheasant and rabbit and fish from the river. Bilbo found truffles to flavor his meals, and fresh dill to add to the fish, and they ate like kings (better than kings, Thorin thought privately).
One afternoon Thorin heard Bilbo, riding ahead of him, gasp as he topped a rise and pulled his pony to a halt. Thorin hurried to catch up with him and found Bilbo, Fíli, and Kíli staring out to the west at the sea lying below them, its dark blue-green surface stretching endlessly to the horizon.
As always, on first seeing the sea, Thorin felt that tug at his heart, unwelcome and imperious. He tamped it down and cleared his throat. "Is it as impressive as you'd hoped?"
"It's..." Kíli started, gazing out at it.
"Yeah," Fíli added, nodding. "It is."
"It's really..."
"...really big."
"And beautiful."
"Yeah."
Bilbo was staring at the sea, his expression puzzled. Then his face cleared. "It's exactly the same color as Thorin's eyes," he announced with an air of triumph. He blinked as everyone but Thorin turned to look at him. "Well, it is!"
Thorin nudged his pony into a walk once more, glancing at Bilbo's face as he passed by, looking for a trace of mockery or irony. But Bilbo Baggins did not have a face made for either, and Thorin saw there only pleasantness and some confusion.
Surely he was the first dwarf in Middle-Earth to have his eyes compared to the great, wide, treacherous sea, Thorin thought with some bewilderment.
: : :
"I don't understand why we're not stopping there," Bilbo said, gazing wistfully at the distant grey walls of Mithlond, glimmering in the morning mist. "I mean, you know Sindarin, so surely--"
"--being able to read a language does not mean wishing to dally with the people who speak it," Thorin said shortly. "The history of elves and dwarves is not a kind one, and it is better not to risk stirring up old enmities."
"After all," pointed out Dwalin, "We are sort of on our way to try and pillage one of their ancient strongholds."
"Ah," said Bilbo. "Yes, well. Maybe we could ask them for help and--" He caught a glimpse of Thorin's face. "No, I suppose not."
They rode on in silence for a while, following the road that wound to the north along the coast, leaving the walls of the Grey Havens behind. "So, can you actually speak Sindarin as well as read it?" Bilbo asked idly.
"There's not much need to," Thorin said. "My interest in the language is merely academic."
"But--"
"--But yes, I can speak the tongue." Thorin paused for a moment, and then recited in a low voice, deep as the distant sea:
Le ú-iston,
amman im trastannen?
amman lalaith nîn gell?
man eneth lîn?
Bilbo and the dwarves stared at him, and he shrugged uncomfortably. "It's just a bit of poetry that stuck in my head once."
"What does it mean in Westron?" Bilbo asked.
"Nothing important," said Thorin, glowering. "Just more elvish nonsense."
And that was all they could get out of him on the topic.
: : :
They wound north up the coast, with the sea on their left hand and the Blue Mountains looming always on their right. The air was redolent with salt and silt, a deep, old smell that made the ponies sneeze and shake their heads from time to time. Bilbo found new things to eat--salty seaweed to put in soup, clams to dig out of mud flats and steam with ale. The dwarves tended to wrinkle up their noses and complain at first with each new item, but after a bite or two they tucked in with enthusiasm.
Thorin sat at the campfire, looking out at the sea as his party relaxed. Balin and Dwalin were smoking and swapping stories about their youth; Fíli was practicing his fiddle; Kíli was waxing his bow strings and complaining about the damp salt air for the hundredth time. Bilbo was using a pocketknife to pry open some mottled, purple-shelled things he had found--mussels, that was what he had called them. The tip of his tongue was sticking very slightly out of his mouth as he concentrated.
Then his hand slipped and the knife glanced along the back of his hand.
"< Fucker of orcs! >" Bilbo yelped in Khuzdul.
Five dwarvish mouths fell open. "Bilbo!" gasped Kíli, a blush creeping up his face. "Where--what--"
Bilbo grinned blithely, sucking on the back of his hand. "Oh, I've heard Dwalin say it from time to time. It sounded like, you know, the kind of thing one would say in this situation."
"I might, yes," blustered Dwalin. "But that doesn't mean you should."
Bilbo's eyes went wide in consternation. "I'm sorry, is it something terrible? I didn't mean to insult anyone--"
"--You have insulted no one," Thorin said hastily. "It is merely--well, not the kind of thing a hobbit like yourself usually would say." He stood and went over to Bilbo, eager to change the subject. "Is the wound deep?"
Bilbo held out his hand, where blood was beading along the back once more. "Not too serious. Stings, though."
Thorin reached into his pack and pulled out some bandaging. Taking Bilbo's hand in his--Bilbo opened his mouth and his fingers twitched, but then he subsided--he dabbed the blood away, then wound clean cloth around the hand. "You should be more careful, Bilbo," he said.
"Well, maybe you should teach me that language of yours, then," Bilbo retorted.
"I didn't mean with Khuzdul, you annoying halfling," grumbled Thorin. "And it is a secret language, forbidden to outsiders."
"Oh. Well, then," said Bilbo. "I see." His hand, lying in Thorin's, went oddly inert.
"Actually," said Balin, and Thorin focused on the bandages and tried not to look too eager, "The Book of Maluk-zaghal says 'anyone who walks the road of the people for a full moon is of the people.' Couldn't that be taken to mean that once Bilbo has traveled with us for a month he will be an honorary dwarf and can be taught Khuzdul?"
"I think so!" chorused Fíli and Kíli.
Thorin frowned as if he were considering. "I don't believe any non-dwarf has ever traveled with a company of dwarves for so long."
"I wonder why that is?" Bilbo said tartly.
"Perhaps because we are difficult and contrary beings, and not pleasant traveling companions," said Thorin gravely, meeting his eyes.
"Oh, I didn't mean--you're--you're all fine, very--very pleasant," Bilbo stammered.
Thorin tied off the bandage and released Bilbo's hand. "When did Bilbo start to travel with you?" he asked his nephews.
They cast their eyes upward, remembering. "It was...just after the new moon," said Fíli.
"And now the moon is waning once more. It will be new within a few days," said Thorin. Bilbo was looking at his bandaged hand and flexing the fingers gingerly. Thorin reflected that the amount of bandaging might have been out of proportion to the depth of the cut. He cleared his throat and spoke to Bilbo. "Would you be willing to learn Khuzdul?"
"Why, certainly!" Bilbo beamed. "I love languages almost as much as I love maps."
"Very well," said Thorin. "When the moon is new, Balin shall become your tutor."
Bilbo's face fell slightly. "Oh, ah. Balin, yes. Excellent choice. Yes." He nodded a few times. "Hm." He looked at his hand again. "I suppose this means that I shouldn't use the other phrase I heard Dwalin use, < sucker of goblin dick >."
Thorin felt himself pale, and he shot a look at Dwalin, who was doing something Thorin had never seen him do--blush. "No," he said to Bilbo, "That also is a term that does not suit a hobbit."
"That's a shame," sighed Bilbo. "It sounded so nicely angry."
: : :
The air was growing colder as they traveled north and as fall progressed. Early one morning it was bad enough that Bilbo found himself hopping up and down, chafing his arms to warm up as he waited for the potatoes to roast. Thorin made a grumbling noise and rolled over, blinking at him from bleary eyes.
"Sorry. Didn't really pack for a long journey," Bilbo explained.
Thorin looked at him, considering. Then he rose from his bedroll, grabbed his coat, and cast it around Bilbo's shoulders.
Bilbo blinked as he was engulfed in leather and fur. "A trifle big for me, don't you think?"
"It will do for now," Thorin said. "We shall find you something more your size at another time."
Bilbo gingerly pulled it tighter, feeling the fur brushing his neck. It was softer than he had imagined--not that he had spent much time looking at that thick russet ruff and wondering what it would feel like to sink his fingers deep into it. "Won't you be cold?"
"Dwarves are made of sterner stuff than hobbits," Thorin said. "We do not feel the cold as keenly."
"Ah." Bilbo looked around the camp. All the other dwarves were still asleep. He pulled the potatoes away from the fire and checked them, adding a little salt and pepper. "Too bad we've no butter," he mused out loud. Hoisting the potatoes on their platter, invited Thorin to join him with a tilt of his eyebrows.
Together they went a little way from the camp to let the others sleep. Bilbo clambered up on a smooth rock--with some difficulty due to the enveloping coat--to look out over the ocean once more, while Thorin sat at the base, his back to the stone.
"I'm hoping Dwalin can catch more salmon soon," Bilbo said as he started to eat the potatoes. "My goodness, what a treat that was."
Thorin grunted, his mouth full.
"It reminded me of the food at Otho and Lobelia's wedding," Bilbo reminisced. "Horrible people, but they know how to throw a party, I'll give them that."
"What's that?"
"Oh, Otho and Lobelia? They're Sackville-Bagginses, odious people, really."
"No, the 'wedding' thing." He pronounced the Westron as if it were unfamiliar, and Bilbo blinked down at him.
"It's--wait, you don't know what a wedding is?"
"I've heard the term here and there, traveling in human lands. It's a kind of party, right? Like a harvest festival?"
"No, it's--well, it's sort of a party," Bilbo had to admit in the interest of strict accuracy. "But it's a party where two people pledge to--promise to spend the rest of their lives together." Thorin was frowning. "You must have your own word for it."
"Why would you need to promise something like that?" Thorin was frowning. "Is this some kind of mystical binding-process halflings do?"
"What? No, of course not. Do dwarves--" Bilbo broke off, suddenly feeling that he was getting into deep water. He took a breath. "Do dwarves often change partners?"
Thorin looked like he couldn't decide whether to be confused or angry. "Your partner is your partner. Your mate. Promising has nothing to do with it. When you are together, you are together." He shrugged. "In any case, most of us are remain unmated. Finding a partner is a very private thing. We do not need to parade our mates around in public."
"It's not--you make it sound rather awful," Bilbo said. "And it's not! A wedding is great fun. There's always lots of food and dancing, and people are happy, and they tell stories and sing. And it's...I don't know. I guess hobbits just like to let everyone know, 'this is the person I've chosen from everyone to share my life with, to walk the road together. This is the person I cherish above all others.'" Thorin was looking up at him, his expression hard to read. "I'm not explaining well," Bilbo said, frustrated. "You should come to a Shire wedding sometime, I'm sure you'd understand then."
"Hm," said Thorin. "Invite me to yours one day, and I shall see if I can understand what all the fuss is about."
Bilbo was about to respond, but then he heard the sound of Fíli's voice from the camp, complaining bitterly: "Mahal's damnation, it's cold!" Kíli's voice joined in soon after, and Bilbo could hear his teeth chattering: "Can we go back to Erebor? This is horrible!"
Bilbo looked down at Thorin in his thin shirt. "Sterner stuff than hobbits?"
Thorin looked both annoyed and chagrined at the same time. "Well, most dwarves are made of sterner stuff than hobbits." He stood, brushing off his plate. "No, keep it," he said as Bilbo tried to shrug out of the coat. "We'll find you something more suitable soon."
He headed back to camp, and soon Bilbo could hear him yelling at his nephews to warm up by packing, they needed to be on the road soon.
Bilbo lingered for a moment, looking out at the ocean, the sea breeze ruffling the fur at his throat.
Wondering why the idea of Thorin attending his wedding made him feel sad.
: : :
"Balin! Balin! The moon was new last night!" said Kíli as they mounted. "You can start teaching Bilbo Khuzdul!"
"Oh, I suppose I can," Balin said, bringing his pony alongside Bilbo's. "Now, it is important to begin with declension. In Westron, conjugation is essential--I'm not saying Khuzdul doesn't have conjugation issues as well, but declension is really the key."
"Ah," said Bilbo, nodding. "I see."
"It's quite simple, really. There are five main cases to remember: the ablative, nominative, accusative, locational, and instrumental." He stopped, pondering. "There's the vocative as well, but that's used rarely, we don't need it to start with."
He started explaining about the ablative case--"used to express motion away from something else, of course"--but got sidetracked into the cultural reasons behind the importance of the case. Bilbo tried to pay attention, but soon was completely lost in a maze of grammar. He would have asked questions, but he couldn't even tell what he wasn't understanding.
Balin had gone on to the accusative case--"for marking the direct object of a transitive verb"--when Thorin kicked his pony into a trot and rode in between them. "By Durin's beard, Balin," he snarled. "You may know a great deal about Khuzdul grammar, but you know nothing of teaching a language."
Balin looked offended. "Oh? I suppose you think you could do better?"
"As a matter of fact, I do."
Balin glared at him. "Well then, I shall leave the teaching to you," he announced, falling back in something of a huff.
Thorin rode beside Bilbo for a while in silence, until Bilbo started to wonder if perhaps he was never going to learn Khuzdul at all. Then he pointed at himself. "Khuzd," he said. He pointed at Bilbo. "Melekûn."
Bilbo repeated the words.
Thorin indicated the rest of the party with a sweeping motion. "Khazad."
"Oh, so the plural is made by changing the vowels?"
Thorin shot a triumphant glance at Balin, then back at Bilbo. "Indeed." He pointed to Fíli and Kíli. "Khuzdith."
"Nephew dwarves?" Thorin frowned. "Um...young dwarves?"
Thorin nodded. "So, then. If a horse is kharub, then a young horse is..."
Bilbo did some mental calculations. "Kharubith?"
Thorin slapped his horse's neck, grinning. "You are speaking Khuzdul already."
They rode through the morning, with Bilbo pointing at rivers, birds, trees, and Thorin telling him their names and the different declensions to change what the nouns meant.
The other dwarves trailed slightly behind them; when Bilbo turned back to look at them once he caught Balin and Dwalin sharing a smug look as Thorin was patiently repeating a sentence in Khuzdul. Bilbo raised his eyebrows: apparently Balin had deliberately gotten out of teaching him? Well! Bilbo felt slightly offended--he didn't think he was that bad a student.
Thorin repeated his question more slowly, and Bilbo realized he was waiting for a response. "Oh!" Bilbo blurted, then painstakingly put together, "< The sea--is--big. >"
"Good work," said Thorin, nodding in satisfaction. "You make a satisfactory honorary dwarf."
Bilbo couldn't help it: he threw back his head and laughed.
Daffodil's ears twitched back and she snorted; Thorin looked much the same. "What's so funny?"
"I'm just wondering how I would go about making you all honorary hobbits," Bilbo said. "You'd probably have to attend a dance or something, or learn how to properly steep tea." He wiped his eyes. "Oh, it would be hilarious. The Shire would never be the same."
Thorin looked disgruntled. "I am not unable to dance," he muttered.
"I want to see the Shire someday, Uncle!" said Fíli.
"I want to be an honorary hobbit!" said Kíli.
"I think if you want to be, you can," said Bilbo. He waved his hand. "You are now all officially honorary hobbits."
The nephews cheered, and Balin and Dwalin laughed. Only Thorin still looked annoyed.
"I could have mastered any dance you set me as a challenge," he grumbled before turning back to the language lessons.
----
Note: The poem that Thorin recites is from the end of Cuil nîn prestannen, "My life is changed," a poem written in Sindarin and available here. Translated into English, the words are:
I do not know you-
Why am I stirred?
Why is my laughter so happy?
What is your name?
Relationship: Thorin/Bilbo
Characters: Bilbo Baggins, Fíli, Kíli, Thorin, Dwalin, Balin
Fandom: Hobbit
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Rating: PG for a bit of language.
Word Count: 3000
Story Summary: In a Middle-Earth where Erebor never fell, a shadow remains in the heart of the Lonely Mountain. Bilbo Baggins finds himself drawn reluctantly into a quest that will lead him across the continent--from Bree to Lake Evendim to the icy North and beyond--with a party of five dwarves searching for an artifact that will cure the ailing King Thrór.
Chapter Summary: Thorin's company travels north along the coast toward Himring: in which there are language lessons, cold weather, and the first sight of the sea.
In later years, Bilbo would say that the weeks spent travelling from Annúminas to Himring were uneventful and hardly worth mentioning. That the riding was easy and no one was chasing them, and so there was little to relate. That he hardly remembered them.
The last assertion would be untrue--but then, happy, peaceful memories are rarely the stuff of legends.
: : :
They forded the Lune early, when it was relatively shallow, their ponies snorting and shaking their shaggy manes in disapproval on the other side. They followed the river south and west, with the Blue Mountains rising to their right, hazy indigo against the setting sun. There was game aplenty in the fertile valley of the Lune: pheasant and rabbit and fish from the river. Bilbo found truffles to flavor his meals, and fresh dill to add to the fish, and they ate like kings (better than kings, Thorin thought privately).
One afternoon Thorin heard Bilbo, riding ahead of him, gasp as he topped a rise and pulled his pony to a halt. Thorin hurried to catch up with him and found Bilbo, Fíli, and Kíli staring out to the west at the sea lying below them, its dark blue-green surface stretching endlessly to the horizon.
As always, on first seeing the sea, Thorin felt that tug at his heart, unwelcome and imperious. He tamped it down and cleared his throat. "Is it as impressive as you'd hoped?"
"It's..." Kíli started, gazing out at it.
"Yeah," Fíli added, nodding. "It is."
"It's really..."
"...really big."
"And beautiful."
"Yeah."
Bilbo was staring at the sea, his expression puzzled. Then his face cleared. "It's exactly the same color as Thorin's eyes," he announced with an air of triumph. He blinked as everyone but Thorin turned to look at him. "Well, it is!"
Thorin nudged his pony into a walk once more, glancing at Bilbo's face as he passed by, looking for a trace of mockery or irony. But Bilbo Baggins did not have a face made for either, and Thorin saw there only pleasantness and some confusion.
Surely he was the first dwarf in Middle-Earth to have his eyes compared to the great, wide, treacherous sea, Thorin thought with some bewilderment.
: : :
"I don't understand why we're not stopping there," Bilbo said, gazing wistfully at the distant grey walls of Mithlond, glimmering in the morning mist. "I mean, you know Sindarin, so surely--"
"--being able to read a language does not mean wishing to dally with the people who speak it," Thorin said shortly. "The history of elves and dwarves is not a kind one, and it is better not to risk stirring up old enmities."
"After all," pointed out Dwalin, "We are sort of on our way to try and pillage one of their ancient strongholds."
"Ah," said Bilbo. "Yes, well. Maybe we could ask them for help and--" He caught a glimpse of Thorin's face. "No, I suppose not."
They rode on in silence for a while, following the road that wound to the north along the coast, leaving the walls of the Grey Havens behind. "So, can you actually speak Sindarin as well as read it?" Bilbo asked idly.
"There's not much need to," Thorin said. "My interest in the language is merely academic."
"But--"
"--But yes, I can speak the tongue." Thorin paused for a moment, and then recited in a low voice, deep as the distant sea:
Le ú-iston,
amman im trastannen?
amman lalaith nîn gell?
man eneth lîn?
Bilbo and the dwarves stared at him, and he shrugged uncomfortably. "It's just a bit of poetry that stuck in my head once."
"What does it mean in Westron?" Bilbo asked.
"Nothing important," said Thorin, glowering. "Just more elvish nonsense."
And that was all they could get out of him on the topic.
: : :
They wound north up the coast, with the sea on their left hand and the Blue Mountains looming always on their right. The air was redolent with salt and silt, a deep, old smell that made the ponies sneeze and shake their heads from time to time. Bilbo found new things to eat--salty seaweed to put in soup, clams to dig out of mud flats and steam with ale. The dwarves tended to wrinkle up their noses and complain at first with each new item, but after a bite or two they tucked in with enthusiasm.
Thorin sat at the campfire, looking out at the sea as his party relaxed. Balin and Dwalin were smoking and swapping stories about their youth; Fíli was practicing his fiddle; Kíli was waxing his bow strings and complaining about the damp salt air for the hundredth time. Bilbo was using a pocketknife to pry open some mottled, purple-shelled things he had found--mussels, that was what he had called them. The tip of his tongue was sticking very slightly out of his mouth as he concentrated.
Then his hand slipped and the knife glanced along the back of his hand.
"< Fucker of orcs! >" Bilbo yelped in Khuzdul.
Five dwarvish mouths fell open. "Bilbo!" gasped Kíli, a blush creeping up his face. "Where--what--"
Bilbo grinned blithely, sucking on the back of his hand. "Oh, I've heard Dwalin say it from time to time. It sounded like, you know, the kind of thing one would say in this situation."
"I might, yes," blustered Dwalin. "But that doesn't mean you should."
Bilbo's eyes went wide in consternation. "I'm sorry, is it something terrible? I didn't mean to insult anyone--"
"--You have insulted no one," Thorin said hastily. "It is merely--well, not the kind of thing a hobbit like yourself usually would say." He stood and went over to Bilbo, eager to change the subject. "Is the wound deep?"
Bilbo held out his hand, where blood was beading along the back once more. "Not too serious. Stings, though."
Thorin reached into his pack and pulled out some bandaging. Taking Bilbo's hand in his--Bilbo opened his mouth and his fingers twitched, but then he subsided--he dabbed the blood away, then wound clean cloth around the hand. "You should be more careful, Bilbo," he said.
"Well, maybe you should teach me that language of yours, then," Bilbo retorted.
"I didn't mean with Khuzdul, you annoying halfling," grumbled Thorin. "And it is a secret language, forbidden to outsiders."
"Oh. Well, then," said Bilbo. "I see." His hand, lying in Thorin's, went oddly inert.
"Actually," said Balin, and Thorin focused on the bandages and tried not to look too eager, "The Book of Maluk-zaghal says 'anyone who walks the road of the people for a full moon is of the people.' Couldn't that be taken to mean that once Bilbo has traveled with us for a month he will be an honorary dwarf and can be taught Khuzdul?"
"I think so!" chorused Fíli and Kíli.
Thorin frowned as if he were considering. "I don't believe any non-dwarf has ever traveled with a company of dwarves for so long."
"I wonder why that is?" Bilbo said tartly.
"Perhaps because we are difficult and contrary beings, and not pleasant traveling companions," said Thorin gravely, meeting his eyes.
"Oh, I didn't mean--you're--you're all fine, very--very pleasant," Bilbo stammered.
Thorin tied off the bandage and released Bilbo's hand. "When did Bilbo start to travel with you?" he asked his nephews.
They cast their eyes upward, remembering. "It was...just after the new moon," said Fíli.
"And now the moon is waning once more. It will be new within a few days," said Thorin. Bilbo was looking at his bandaged hand and flexing the fingers gingerly. Thorin reflected that the amount of bandaging might have been out of proportion to the depth of the cut. He cleared his throat and spoke to Bilbo. "Would you be willing to learn Khuzdul?"
"Why, certainly!" Bilbo beamed. "I love languages almost as much as I love maps."
"Very well," said Thorin. "When the moon is new, Balin shall become your tutor."
Bilbo's face fell slightly. "Oh, ah. Balin, yes. Excellent choice. Yes." He nodded a few times. "Hm." He looked at his hand again. "I suppose this means that I shouldn't use the other phrase I heard Dwalin use, < sucker of goblin dick >."
Thorin felt himself pale, and he shot a look at Dwalin, who was doing something Thorin had never seen him do--blush. "No," he said to Bilbo, "That also is a term that does not suit a hobbit."
"That's a shame," sighed Bilbo. "It sounded so nicely angry."
: : :
The air was growing colder as they traveled north and as fall progressed. Early one morning it was bad enough that Bilbo found himself hopping up and down, chafing his arms to warm up as he waited for the potatoes to roast. Thorin made a grumbling noise and rolled over, blinking at him from bleary eyes.
"Sorry. Didn't really pack for a long journey," Bilbo explained.
Thorin looked at him, considering. Then he rose from his bedroll, grabbed his coat, and cast it around Bilbo's shoulders.
Bilbo blinked as he was engulfed in leather and fur. "A trifle big for me, don't you think?"
"It will do for now," Thorin said. "We shall find you something more your size at another time."
Bilbo gingerly pulled it tighter, feeling the fur brushing his neck. It was softer than he had imagined--not that he had spent much time looking at that thick russet ruff and wondering what it would feel like to sink his fingers deep into it. "Won't you be cold?"
"Dwarves are made of sterner stuff than hobbits," Thorin said. "We do not feel the cold as keenly."
"Ah." Bilbo looked around the camp. All the other dwarves were still asleep. He pulled the potatoes away from the fire and checked them, adding a little salt and pepper. "Too bad we've no butter," he mused out loud. Hoisting the potatoes on their platter, invited Thorin to join him with a tilt of his eyebrows.
Together they went a little way from the camp to let the others sleep. Bilbo clambered up on a smooth rock--with some difficulty due to the enveloping coat--to look out over the ocean once more, while Thorin sat at the base, his back to the stone.
"I'm hoping Dwalin can catch more salmon soon," Bilbo said as he started to eat the potatoes. "My goodness, what a treat that was."
Thorin grunted, his mouth full.
"It reminded me of the food at Otho and Lobelia's wedding," Bilbo reminisced. "Horrible people, but they know how to throw a party, I'll give them that."
"What's that?"
"Oh, Otho and Lobelia? They're Sackville-Bagginses, odious people, really."
"No, the 'wedding' thing." He pronounced the Westron as if it were unfamiliar, and Bilbo blinked down at him.
"It's--wait, you don't know what a wedding is?"
"I've heard the term here and there, traveling in human lands. It's a kind of party, right? Like a harvest festival?"
"No, it's--well, it's sort of a party," Bilbo had to admit in the interest of strict accuracy. "But it's a party where two people pledge to--promise to spend the rest of their lives together." Thorin was frowning. "You must have your own word for it."
"Why would you need to promise something like that?" Thorin was frowning. "Is this some kind of mystical binding-process halflings do?"
"What? No, of course not. Do dwarves--" Bilbo broke off, suddenly feeling that he was getting into deep water. He took a breath. "Do dwarves often change partners?"
Thorin looked like he couldn't decide whether to be confused or angry. "Your partner is your partner. Your mate. Promising has nothing to do with it. When you are together, you are together." He shrugged. "In any case, most of us are remain unmated. Finding a partner is a very private thing. We do not need to parade our mates around in public."
"It's not--you make it sound rather awful," Bilbo said. "And it's not! A wedding is great fun. There's always lots of food and dancing, and people are happy, and they tell stories and sing. And it's...I don't know. I guess hobbits just like to let everyone know, 'this is the person I've chosen from everyone to share my life with, to walk the road together. This is the person I cherish above all others.'" Thorin was looking up at him, his expression hard to read. "I'm not explaining well," Bilbo said, frustrated. "You should come to a Shire wedding sometime, I'm sure you'd understand then."
"Hm," said Thorin. "Invite me to yours one day, and I shall see if I can understand what all the fuss is about."
Bilbo was about to respond, but then he heard the sound of Fíli's voice from the camp, complaining bitterly: "Mahal's damnation, it's cold!" Kíli's voice joined in soon after, and Bilbo could hear his teeth chattering: "Can we go back to Erebor? This is horrible!"
Bilbo looked down at Thorin in his thin shirt. "Sterner stuff than hobbits?"
Thorin looked both annoyed and chagrined at the same time. "Well, most dwarves are made of sterner stuff than hobbits." He stood, brushing off his plate. "No, keep it," he said as Bilbo tried to shrug out of the coat. "We'll find you something more suitable soon."
He headed back to camp, and soon Bilbo could hear him yelling at his nephews to warm up by packing, they needed to be on the road soon.
Bilbo lingered for a moment, looking out at the ocean, the sea breeze ruffling the fur at his throat.
Wondering why the idea of Thorin attending his wedding made him feel sad.
: : :
"Balin! Balin! The moon was new last night!" said Kíli as they mounted. "You can start teaching Bilbo Khuzdul!"
"Oh, I suppose I can," Balin said, bringing his pony alongside Bilbo's. "Now, it is important to begin with declension. In Westron, conjugation is essential--I'm not saying Khuzdul doesn't have conjugation issues as well, but declension is really the key."
"Ah," said Bilbo, nodding. "I see."
"It's quite simple, really. There are five main cases to remember: the ablative, nominative, accusative, locational, and instrumental." He stopped, pondering. "There's the vocative as well, but that's used rarely, we don't need it to start with."
He started explaining about the ablative case--"used to express motion away from something else, of course"--but got sidetracked into the cultural reasons behind the importance of the case. Bilbo tried to pay attention, but soon was completely lost in a maze of grammar. He would have asked questions, but he couldn't even tell what he wasn't understanding.
Balin had gone on to the accusative case--"for marking the direct object of a transitive verb"--when Thorin kicked his pony into a trot and rode in between them. "By Durin's beard, Balin," he snarled. "You may know a great deal about Khuzdul grammar, but you know nothing of teaching a language."
Balin looked offended. "Oh? I suppose you think you could do better?"
"As a matter of fact, I do."
Balin glared at him. "Well then, I shall leave the teaching to you," he announced, falling back in something of a huff.
Thorin rode beside Bilbo for a while in silence, until Bilbo started to wonder if perhaps he was never going to learn Khuzdul at all. Then he pointed at himself. "Khuzd," he said. He pointed at Bilbo. "Melekûn."
Bilbo repeated the words.
Thorin indicated the rest of the party with a sweeping motion. "Khazad."
"Oh, so the plural is made by changing the vowels?"
Thorin shot a triumphant glance at Balin, then back at Bilbo. "Indeed." He pointed to Fíli and Kíli. "Khuzdith."
"Nephew dwarves?" Thorin frowned. "Um...young dwarves?"
Thorin nodded. "So, then. If a horse is kharub, then a young horse is..."
Bilbo did some mental calculations. "Kharubith?"
Thorin slapped his horse's neck, grinning. "You are speaking Khuzdul already."
They rode through the morning, with Bilbo pointing at rivers, birds, trees, and Thorin telling him their names and the different declensions to change what the nouns meant.
The other dwarves trailed slightly behind them; when Bilbo turned back to look at them once he caught Balin and Dwalin sharing a smug look as Thorin was patiently repeating a sentence in Khuzdul. Bilbo raised his eyebrows: apparently Balin had deliberately gotten out of teaching him? Well! Bilbo felt slightly offended--he didn't think he was that bad a student.
Thorin repeated his question more slowly, and Bilbo realized he was waiting for a response. "Oh!" Bilbo blurted, then painstakingly put together, "< The sea--is--big. >"
"Good work," said Thorin, nodding in satisfaction. "You make a satisfactory honorary dwarf."
Bilbo couldn't help it: he threw back his head and laughed.
Daffodil's ears twitched back and she snorted; Thorin looked much the same. "What's so funny?"
"I'm just wondering how I would go about making you all honorary hobbits," Bilbo said. "You'd probably have to attend a dance or something, or learn how to properly steep tea." He wiped his eyes. "Oh, it would be hilarious. The Shire would never be the same."
Thorin looked disgruntled. "I am not unable to dance," he muttered.
"I want to see the Shire someday, Uncle!" said Fíli.
"I want to be an honorary hobbit!" said Kíli.
"I think if you want to be, you can," said Bilbo. He waved his hand. "You are now all officially honorary hobbits."
The nephews cheered, and Balin and Dwalin laughed. Only Thorin still looked annoyed.
"I could have mastered any dance you set me as a challenge," he grumbled before turning back to the language lessons.
----
Note: The poem that Thorin recites is from the end of Cuil nîn prestannen, "My life is changed," a poem written in Sindarin and available here. Translated into English, the words are:
I do not know you-
Why am I stirred?
Why is my laughter so happy?
What is your name?
Part 1
Date: 2013-06-27 10:06 am (UTC)Ha! Now say that out loud!
"It's exactly the same color as Thorin's eyes,"
Oh Bilbo you sweetheart! Also he is right.
Surely he was the first dwarf in Middle-Earth to have his eyes compared to the great, wide, treacherous sea, Thorin thought with some bewilderment.
*snuggles Thorin* (and I love the nod to the negative connotations with treacherous)
"--being able to read a language does not mean wishing to dally with the people who speak it," Thorin said shortly. "The history of elves and dwarves is not a kind one, and it is better not to risk stirring up old enmities."
I understand Thorin's position but I feel with Bilbo.
Maybe we could ask them for help and--"
THORIN OAKENSHIELD DOESN'T NEED ANY HELP!!! Nevermind that he is already letting a little hobbit help him.
"So, can you actually speak Sindarin as well as read it?" Bilbo asked idly.
Brains are sexy!! Yesss.
"Just more elvish nonsense."
A Love poem, a love poem. Probably. Will you translate it for us? ETA: found. Thanks!
salty seaweed to put in soup
Why Bilbo, are you cooking Japanese? Also loved that you mentioned the pony's reactions to the salty air. :-)
"< Fucker of orcs! >" Bilbo yelped in Khuzdul.
OMG! LOL! Bilbo has picked this up from Dwalin I am sure. Or Thorin. I am sure there was no adequate Shire/Westron swearword for the ocasion (Hobbits probably not handling sharp knives so often). I can totally understand his motivation. When I was in the UK, I also learned quite an array of swearwords (especially from one of my housemates. She liked to use: bastard, bugger, shite – while the other one tried to avoid them and used: sugar instead of shit. Like: Oh sugar!) And bastard was quite satisfying on the tongue. As is „fuck“ though I only use this when I am alone. :-) It's the consonants. German "Scheiße" "Mist" "verdammt" sound too soft for a heartfelt curse, and some are too long!
"Oh, I've heard Dwalin say it from time to time.
I knew it! But how hilarious that Bilbo doesn't even know what it means!
"I might, yes," blustered Dwalin. "But that doesn't mean you should."
An interesting situation. Bilbo is challenging their perceptions of him (nice, harmless little hobbit) and also showing how much he has assimilated to their culture. (Btw, what swearwords do the Japanese use? Did you learn any?)
"I'm sorry, is it something terrible? I didn't mean to insult anyone--"
But not too much. Hobbit good manners are still there. :-)
"You should be more careful, Bilbo," he said.
Oh how he cares. Look. Look at him! Yay for brief hurt/comfort!
"Well, maybe you should teach me that language of yours, then," Bilbo retorted.
YES YES YES!!!!!
"And it is a secret language, forbidden to outsiders."
Oh no.
tried not to look too eager,
Mhh. Why eager. Either to keep holding Bilbo's hand – or the clever little prince has already something in mind and is waiting for someone else to say it. Thorin, you sneaky bastard!
"The Book of Maluk-zaghal says 'anyone who walks the road of the people for a full moon is of the people.' Couldn't that be taken to mean that once Bilbo has traveled with us for a month he will be an honorary dwarf and can be taught Khuzdul?"
Wonderful custom. And yay for honorary dwarfs! Does that mean we are too? We are walking the path of the fic, staying faithfully with the dwarfs so we should be too? Shouldn't we? *puppy-eyes *
"I wonder why that is?" Bilbo said tartly.
LOL!
"Perhaps because we are difficult and contrary beings, and not pleasant traveling companions," said Thorin gravely, meeting his eyes.
Ooooh. *glazed eyes * What did he say? What? I was distracted by eyes the colour of the sea there...
Thorin reflected that the amount of bandaging might have been out of proportion to the depth of the cut.
Oh that is too precious! I can just imagine Thorin holding on and on to Bilbo's hand and just keeping to wrap it so he doesn't have to let go!
"When the moon is new, Balin shall become your tutor."
GRRRRRRR
"That's a shame," sighed Bilbo. "It sounded so nicely angry."
Yes, I feel your pain Bilbo. But how hilarious, the dwarfs being embarrassed about their own swearwords. :-)
Re: Part 1
Date: 2013-06-27 10:12 am (UTC)Oh the warm and fuzzies..
not that he had spent much time looking at that thick russet ruff and wondering what it would feel like to sink his fingers deep into it.
Or Thorin's hair... hehe
It's--wait, you don't know what a wedding is?"
o_o Really?
Thorin looked like he couldn't decide whether to be confused or angry.
Oh cultural misunderstandings.
"Your partner is your partner. Your mate. Promising has nothing to do with it. When you are together, you are together."
How wonderfully simple. But sad also. Since Thorin thinks he won't ever have one. I also find the privacy dwarfs have about this very plausible.
"Invite me to yours one day, and I shall see if I can understand what all the fuss is about."
Ohh, mixed feelings.
Thorin looked both annoyed and chagrined at the same time. "Well, most dwarves are made of sterner stuff than hobbits."
:-) Well, Fili and Kili haven't been on the road for most of their lives..
Wondering why the idea of Thorin attending his wedding made him feel sad.
*headdesk*
"By Durin's beard, Balin," he snarled. "You may know a great deal about Khuzdul grammar, but you know nothing of teaching a language."
Yay Thorin for the rescue! I already dread teaching this stuff myself. I like language but I don't like grammar...sigh. Maybe I chose the wrong profession...
"Well then, I shall leave the teaching to you,"
Clever clever move Thorin. I wonder if he didn't partly suspect Balin was going to be like this (part of it was also pushing Bilbo away I'm sure).
Where did you find Kuzhdul? Is there something online? I looked into Sindarin and Quenya once but then there are canon instances of them used. How did they reconstruct Kuzhdul? From Tolkien's notes?
when Bilbo turned back to look at them once he caught Balin and Dwalin sharing a smug look as Thorin was patiently repeating a sentence in Khuzdul.
Oh ooooh! I underestimated Balin!
Well! Bilbo felt slightly offended--he didn't think he was that bad a student.
I am going to end up with a concussion at this rate...
"I'm just wondering how I would go about making you all honorary hobbits," Bilbo said. "You'd probably have to attend a dance or something, or learn how to properly steep tea." He wiped his eyes. "Oh, it would be hilarious. The Shire would never be the same." "I am not unable to dance," he muttered.
Mmmh dance with me anytime...
"I want to see the Shire someday, Uncle!" said Fíli.
"I want to be an honorary hobbit!" said Kíli.
Oh the precious sweeties!
"I could have mastered any dance you set me as a challenge," he grumbled before turning back to the language lessons.
Do I see something in the future? I think so. At least as an outtake of this fic.
I do not know you-
Why am I stirred?
Why is my laughter so happy?
What is your name?
Thank you! Also, how very fitting! How long did it take to find this puzzlepiece? Or did you first read it and built the scene around it?
Wonderful chapter! Love the more light-hearted atmosphere in the absence of deadly peril. :-) So, the other illustration is still unfinished but I think I'm going to do a quick sketch...
Re: Part 1
Date: 2013-06-27 10:51 am (UTC)Go on! Listen to Mekare! *nudges him*
*dodges axe* Dang it...
I understand Thorin's position but I feel with Bilbo.
I know! Elves.... Bilbo will see some eventually, though...
Why Bilbo, are you cooking Japanese?
Hee, I think Bilbo would try anything! I wonder if maybe some dried seaweed has made its way to the Shire now and then, I can't really imagine being willing to try it otherwise...
Living in Japan has really loosened my tongue about swearing in English, because there are fewer people who'll be truly offended--I have to be careful when I go back to the US now! And Japanese is a terrible language for swearing in--there's no words that are too rough to be said on television, for example, and most of them are variations on "you." Just...rude ways of saying "you." Though the term for "dead animal excrement" is pretty cool. :)
Yay for brief hurt/comfort!
Yessss, and yes, you're right, he totally just didn't want to let go of Bilbo's hand, the sweetie!
the clever little prince has already something in mind and is waiting for someone else to say it. Thorin, you sneaky bastard!
Muaha, yes, he already knows this rule Balin is about to bring up and he was just hoping he wouldn't have to bring it up himself. *grin* I think he would have if Balin had let him down, but he can usually count on Balin!
Does that mean we are too? We are walking the path of the fic, staying faithfully with the dwarfs so we should be too? Shouldn't we? *puppy-eyes *
It's been well more than a month, hasn't it? I think we are definitely all honorary dwarves now! And we're all honorary hobbits already because we love food and hanging out... :)
Dwalin being embarrassed at hearing Bilbo use his own words cracked me up--it's just wrong, Bilbo swearing! Stop it, Bilbo! :)
Re: Part 1
Date: 2013-06-27 12:26 pm (UTC)YAY!
Yes, I can see that. There is trade in Middle earth and hobbits would be interested in food. :-)
and most of them are variations on "you." Just...rude ways of saying "you."
Wow. I can't even... This is fascinating. :-)
Yessss, and yes, you're right, he totally just didn't want to let go of Bilbo's hand, the sweetie!
Sshh! Don't let Thorin hear that or another sharp object is going to come flying round the corner... *g*
Though the term for "dead animal excrement" is pretty cool.
:-)Is this what the movie villains use? I mean I get that japan is a polite society and you can horribly offend someone by using the wrong form of address, but if one is really really angry? Do they bottle it up?
I think he would have if Balin had let him down, but he can usually count on Balin!
Hehe, know your allies well and plan accordingly.
I think we are definitely all honorary dwarves now! And we're all honorary hobbits already because we love food and hanging out... :)
I'll save the honorary dwarf for holidays and am content being an honorary hobbit the rest of the time. Yum, food.
Dwalin being embarrassed at hearing Bilbo use his own words cracked me up--it's just wrong, Bilbo swearing!
It is too funny! Dwalin blushing!
Re: Part 1
Date: 2013-06-27 01:11 pm (UTC)La la la...he totally has not noticed Thorin's lovely thick hair, nope...
How wonderfully simple. But sad also. Since Thorin thinks he won't ever have one. I also find the privacy dwarfs have about this very plausible.
I can imagine a culture that didn't have big public rituals for romantic attachments, especially one where such a small proportion of people had a (straight, and thus heir-producing) partnership like that.
Yay Thorin for the rescue! I already dread teaching this stuff myself. I like language but I don't like grammar...sigh. Maybe I chose the wrong profession...
I'm terrible at teaching language, to be honest! Grammar especially...mostly because I never quite grasp it myself. I've learned more about grammar from writing fanfic than anywhere else! Declension!
Where did you find Kuzhdul? Is there something online? I looked into Sindarin and Quenya once but then there are canon instances of them used. How did they reconstruct Kuzhdul? From Tolkien's notes?
There are "dictionaries" of Khuzdul that are based on the very few fragments Tolkien left (the basic idea that the vowels and endings shift to change the meaning of the word is canon). People have added more words based on semitic languages, because that's what Tolkien said he was basing it one. So not exactly canon, but at least somewhat rooted in it. They call it Neo-Khuzdul because of that, and there's some interesting discussion of it here!
*grin* Balin knew what he was up to! Even if Bilbo also underestimated his sneakiness...
How long did it take to find this puzzlepiece? Or did you first read it and built the scene around it?
I went looking for poetry in Sindarin or Quenya and came across it! I was going to try to write some myself, but that proved way too daunting, lol. So I just found a snippet that seemed to work best--that page has an impressive selection, actually! Gotta love Tolkien scholars...
This is one of my favorite chapters of the whole series, just because...I really loved giving them a little time to just relax and travel together and not be frightened or angry. There are a few more like this scattered here and there, but the stakes start rising from here! I'm so glad you enjoyed it! *dances happily, though not with Thorin*
Re: Part 1
Date: 2013-06-27 01:54 pm (UTC)There are a few more like this scattered here and there, but the stakes start rising from here!
Looking forward to it!
Ha, I finished the sketch: honorary Dwalin.
*dances happily, though not with Thorin*
God, the image of Thorin dancing... I wonder what dwarf dances are like... I mean we've seen how hobbits dance in the movie. But dwarves? And Thorin would know courtly dances, nothing so carefree like Hobbit dances. Probably very elaborate and stiff with little body contact. Erm, I mean something very majestic and dignified, of course.
Re: Part 1
Date: 2013-06-27 02:55 pm (UTC)Oooh, this will require some thought--and, one hopes, some time spent in either Erebor or the Shire! *crosses fingers* But yes, I'm imagining something rather like a quadrille--dancing probably wouldn't be a prelude to romance in dwarvish society, but ore of a technical community challenge, I would think....
Re: Part 1
Date: 2013-06-27 02:57 pm (UTC)Yes, exactly! That's basically what you scream when your best friend gets killed or such. :)
Also, yes, I should not have called Thorin a sweetie, he will hunt me down and make life difficult for me now! *grins and ducks various flying axes*
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Date: 2013-11-05 07:50 pm (UTC)MMh and Thorin reciting Elvish love poetry, yum yum yum yum.
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Date: 2013-11-06 09:21 am (UTC)