Chapter Text
Maybe the fact that he had been able to see the animals and that they had sought him out, even though they apparently tended to avoid mundane people outside of very rare circumstances, should have been a big clue that something wasn’t quite right. But in Bilbo's defence, no one had told him that both of these things were unusual.
The first time he had seen one of them had been shortly after the company left Bree.
They had procured their ponies, eaten one last proper meal in the Prancing Pony, and ridden along the East Road towards the Misty Mountains when some kind of bird landed on Kíli’s shoulder. None of the others had reacted, so Bilbo hadn’t either, though he’d wondered whether dwarves trained raptors to hunt or serve as eyes in the sky. It seemed unlikely, given that dwarves lived inside mountains and birds decidedly did not, but at this point in time he had certainly not felt like asking.
That approach had worked fine until a massive bear shimmered into existence right next to Dori several hours later after they made camp for the day. When it put its equally massive head in the dwarf’s lap, Bilbo was so surprised he dropped his bowl and scrambled to his feet. Whether he intended to run, hide behind Gandalf, or try something both brave and stupid to save Dori, he didn’t know. Not that Dori needed saving, least of all from what Bilbo would later learn was his soul animal, but Bilbo hadn’t known that then.
At the very least, the loss of stew had not been in vain, as both the dwarves and Bilbo had found out something important about each other’s people.
“Peace, Master Baggins,” Balin said, effectively silencing the other dwarves and the very confused and panicked hobbit without even raising his voice. “It’s only Dori’s Soul Animal.”
“I’m not familiar with that term and I would very much like to know why none of you are freaking out about a bear in the camp!” Bilbo’s voice was shrill, which he would later maintain had been a perfectly ordinary response to the situation, no matter what some of the others (Kíli, Fíli, and Bofur, namely) would say with teasing undertones.
“Well, what do hobbits call the animal companions of Sentinels and Guides?” Ori asked. That only puzzled Bilbo more.
“The what of what?”
“Sentinels and Guides!” As if simply repeating the terms would clear everything up.
“We use other names for them in our tongue, but they are known to the Men as Sentinels and Guides, so that is what we use when talking to outsiders. The elves likely have their own names as well, but I’m afraid I do not know them.”
Grumbling arose at Balin’s words. Even after only a few days on the road with the dwarves, Bilbo had figured out that they really did not like the elves.
“It depends on which type of elves,” Ori said, sounding far less enraged than the others. “I think the wood elves also call them Sentinels, but I don’t know what they use instead of Guides.”
Bilbo looked at Ori with raised eyebrows then turned to Gandalf, who had stayed silent throughout the whole encounter so far. Knowing him, and having listened to many of his mother’s stories as a young faunt, it wouldn’t surprise Bilbo if the wizard enjoyed the chaos.
Asking Gandalf for help always had as much chance for success as it did for cryptic riddles instead of a proper, clear answer. This time, Gandalf seemed to take pity on Bilbo and said, “Hobbits do not have Sentinels or Guides.”
“What?!”
Bilbo winced at the cacophony that Gandalf’s words brought about and was thankful when Thorin, the only one who was not shouting, called for silence—or at least Bilbo supposed that was the meaning of the word he’d bellowed out (atkat?). Dwalin, sitting next to the king-in-exile, murmured something to Thorin that Bilbo, on the opposite side of the camp, was not able to understand. Even at that point in time, Bilbo had been able to tell that there was something more between the two than simply friends, but it would take much longer for him to find out that they were married.
“What do you mean they don’t have Sentinels or Guides, Gandalf?” Balin asked once everyone had calmed down again.
“I mean exactly what I said: Hobbits do not have Sentinels or Guides. If they ever had them, they no longer do.”
The dwarves begun to mutter among themselves, occasionally throwing looks in his direction. The bear was still there and kept staring at him with far too intelligent eyes.
“Would someone please explain what sentinels and guides are?” Bilbo asked after a good minute or so, tapping his foot and crossing his arms in front of his chest.
Thankfully, that indeed resulted in a thorough, hour-long lecture, after which Bilbo had just as many, if not more, questions as before.
“So the bear is Dori’s… soul animal?... and comes from what you called the spirit plane, which is also where Guides like Nori, Kíli, and Óin draw their power from?” He was sitting together with Ori, Bofur, and Nori, eating what little of the stew had remained at the bottom of Bombur’s cooking pot.
“All this must be terribly confusing,” Ori acknowledged with a chuckle. “It’s just as strange for me to imagine that you don’t have anything similar. But yes, Bulum is Dori’s Soul.”
“I gave him that name”, Nori said and grinned. “Dori awoke when I was young, Ori wasn’t born yet. Dori was hemming and hawing what he should name his Soul. He wanted to name him something dignified or boring. Well, he took too long in my opinion, so I decided for him. It means soft.”
Bilbo glanced at the bear in question and noted that his fur indeed looked very soft even from afar. “Is it appropriate or polite to ask what your… soul animal is, Nori?”
The thief raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Since when do I care for what’s polite and what isn’t? It’s a fox. Don’t expect to see him around, he likes to hide and sneak.”
“Just like you,” Bofur said to his bonded Guide and dodged Nori’s elbow, which had been aiming for his side. Apparently the reflexes of Sentinels were a hundred times better than those of mundanes thanks to their senses. “Mine’s a badger.”
“Fitting for a miner,” Bilbo commented.
Bofur laughed. “Quite right. Small but fierce, wouldn’t back down from a fight even when facing an animal thrice his size. ‘s why I named him Bingurad or ‘fearless’.”
The dwarves’ language was supposed to be a secret but apparently translating a word here or there wasn’t an issue, or else Bilbo would have expected any of the others to interfere, which no one did. “If I remember right, Bofur, you said that besides you and Dori, Fíli, Glóin, Bifur, Thorin, and Dwalin are also Sentinels?”
“Yup,” Bofur said, popping the ‘p’. “Seven Sentinels, three Guides, one latent Guide and two mundanes. Well, three, if we count you and four if we count Gandalf.”
“Is that ratio normal?”
“Sentinels outnumber Guides at least four to one,” Ori answered. “From what I’ve heard that discrepancy is even bigger among the Men, though elves are more evenly distributed.”
Almost automatically, Bilbo took a quick look at Dwalin and Thorin. They were conversing with Gandalf and Balin, the latter of whom had pulled out a map and was pointing at something on it. If either of the Sentinel duo had noticed that Bilbo was watching them, they didn’t let it show. “Is that why Thorin and Dwalin are bonded even though they are both Sentinels?”
“No, there’s a different reason”, Ori said. “Normally Sentinels and Guides come in pairs, like Nori and Bofur or Glóin and his wife, but sometimes two Sentinels and a Guide form a triad. Thorin awoke when Smaug attacked and when Dwalin awoke decades later they bonded pretty quickly. Ever since, they have been waiting for their one true Guide to complete them.”
Bilbo snuck another glance towards the dwarves in question but this time, he found Dwalin glaring back at him with a sour expression that immediately made Bilbo avert his eyes. “I can’t imagine what that must be like. You are a latent Guide, Ori, right?”
“That he is”, Nori answered instead of the young scribe and ruffled Ori’s hair. Ori blushed. “‘s only a matter of time before he awakens. We’re only an offshoot of the proper line, but those of Durin’s blood always awaken and are always strong. Nothing compared to—” Nori jerked his head towards Thorin. This time, Bilbo did not turn towards them again. “—mind you, but still nothing to sneeze at.”
“I don’t know if I could stand the uncertainty,” Bilbo quietly admitted, not that even whispering would apparently have stopped any of the Sentinels from listening to them. That certainly made Bilbo glad that Gandalf knew Hobbitish, so if there was anything Bilbo didn’t want the dwarves to overhear, he could simply switch languages. “Having such a big thing hanging over your head sounds nerve-wrecking.”
“Not everyone who is latent will awaken but even if I never do, I wouldn’t mind”, Ori said. “It’s a great honour. Every single Guide and Sentinel is chosen by our Maker, Mahal, Himself. If I’m not meant to awaken, then that is His design.”
While hobbits honoured their own Maker, A’ Bhaintighearna Ghorm1 or simply Màthair ‘Mother’, whom the elves called Yavanna Kementári or Ivon, their worship seemed to differ significantly from that of the dwarves. Compared to hobbits, dwarves spoke more formally of Mahal. Not that hobbits didn’t respect the Green Lady, it just felt more personal.
From the corner of his eyes Bilbo registered movement. He turned his head a little and smiled when he saw the translucent, shimmering form of a cat brushing alongside Ori’s back. It looked like a house cat but something about the way it moved told Bilbo that it wasn’t. The cat returned Bilbo’s gaze and blinked at him slowly before disappearing again. Someone’s soul animal, he assumed and didn’t comment on it, instead saying, “It’s odd to imagine that Guides can feel my emotions. Perhaps it’s different when you’ve grown up with the idea, but I find it…”
“Uncomfortable?” Nori finished the sentence for him and winked. “I can tell. You don’t have to worry, I’m not going to read your emotions all the time. Can you imagine how exhausting that’d be?” He shook his head and bumped Bofur’s arm with his own. “‘specially out in the wild we can’t help but check every now and then if everyone’s alright, but that’s more of a surface look than a deep dive. Very strong emotions catch our attention either way, but that’s similar to how you’d pay attention when someone starts yelling, mundane or not.”
“We aren’t always eavesdropping on all conversations around us either, nor do we keep our senses turned up all the way”, Bofur added. “We learn pretty early on how to blend out things that don’t matter to us. Otherwise we’d go crazy with all the useless information raining down on us.”
That was good to hear, Bilbo thought and found some of the tension leave his body.
For the rest of the evening, Bilbo continued asking the three dwarves questions and if he caught glimpses of soul animals throughout the camp, he had no reason to suspect that something unusual was going on.
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The longer they were on the road, the more frequently Bilbo saw the others’ soul animals. Usually they would appear only very briefly. He quickly became used to seeing them pop up next to the dwarf they belonged to, be that on the road or after they had made camp. It didn’t take long for Bilbo to figure out which animal belonged to which dwarf.
The raptor he had seen on Kíli’s shoulder was a peregrine falcon, the young prince had informed him one evening while they sat together with Fíli and watched their two Souls playfully chase each other. Fíli’s Soul, Burzaruz, was a type of cat the Men of Harad had named ‘lions’ and the dwarves ‘sun-cat’, which Bilbo thought was very fitting. Kíli’s falcon, ‘Uzgel, showed up very often, though Bilbo couldn’t tell whether that was because Kíli was unbonded or because the bird was simply friendlier than the other Souls. True to Nori’s warning, Bilbo rarely saw his fox and when he did, it was usually only from the corner of his eyes before the Soul slunk into the shadows. Where Barazamrâl'aban was, Bofur’s badger Bingurad was typically not far behind, even if he was far less sneaky than his counterpart. In contrast, Bifur’s Soul, an animal with armour-like plates on his back that could curl up into a ball to protect himself, tended to never stray far from Bifur and usually sat in his lap. Dori’s bear Bulum seemed to be just as protective of Dori’s brothers as the dwarf himself and would occasionally prowl nearby whenever Ori was sitting next to Bilbo. Glóin’s soul animal, a boar whom he had heard the redhead call Gamz, was a rare sight, as was Óin’s crane Agâhlabmâ, though sometimes Bilbo saw the white bird fly overhead alongside Kíli’s Soul.
While most of the time, the soul animals looked solid but apparently weren’t (the more there a Soul was, the more powerful their Guide or Sentinel, Ori had told him, though all of them could become more solid when necessary), the cat Bilbo had seen before was usually see-through and didn’t interact with any of the dwarves the way the other Guides did. By sheer process of elimination Bilbo had come to believe he was Ori’s soul animal and that he was simply shy like its dwarf. He seemed to prefer being close to Ori, weaving around the dwarf’s feet or brushing alongside his legs, and would never stay longer than for a few seconds. Bilbo wondered what he was called, but didn’t ask, which was also why he didn’t know the names of Thorin’s and Dwalin’s Souls.
Though the two dwarves avoided Bilbo like his mere presence offended them (it probably did), their soul animals were a different kettle of fish altogether. Neither the king nor his bonded made a secret out of their dislike for Bilbo, giving him dark looks whenever their eyes happened to meet, but Thorin’s wolf and Dwalin’s dog were the opposite and sought the hobbit out whenever the company made camp. At first, they had merely regarded him from the other side of the clearing where they stood next to their dwarves, but they had gradually come closer. Nowadays, at least one of them, but usually both, trotted up to Bilbo or appeared right in front of him and sat or lay down at his side. He had no idea why and he certainly wasn’t going to ask either Thorin or Dwalin, not when every single word he had exchanged with the two so far had been met with disdain so strong Bilbo would have been able to cut through it with a knife. Besides, he enjoyed the wolf’s and dog’s company, particularly when everyone was busy and Bilbo was alone.
It was interesting to see how similar the soul animals were to their dwarves.
When he wasn’t near Bilbo or with either Thorin himself or Dwalin, Thorin’s wolf could usually be found next to Kíli, Fíli, or their soul animals. The lion and falcon always tried to get the wolf to play with them and though he usually refused, he would indulge them and let them try and sneak up to him. More than once had Bilbo watched Burzaruz pounce on the wolf from behind and playfully snap at him, only for Thorin’s Soul to just as playfully growl and snap back. He let ‘Uzgel sit on his head and pick at his fur with only minimal grumbling and flicking of ears. Whenever they ventured out too far, he would stalk after them and bring them back to camp. Every night, even when it wasn’t Thorin’s turn yet to take watch, the wolf patrolled the outskirts of their camp, went to every member of the company and checked that everyone was alright. And sometimes, when Bilbo woke up in the middle of the night, he would find the wolf next to Thorin, staring out into the darkness surrounding them with his bright blue eyes and it seemed like the weight of the world rested on both their shoulders.
Dwalin’s dog, a massive beast with a muscular torso and black fur like Thorin’s wolf, was just as protective of those he held dear as the dwarf himself. Where Thorin and his Soul were intense like a raging storm, Dwalin and his dog stood solid and strong like the dwarves’ mountain homes. Like one of Farmer Maggot’s guard dogs, Dwalin’s soul animal was a domineering, almost frightening presence, stalking through the camp on high alert even when there appeared to be no danger nearby. He would often roughhouse with the princes’ Souls, just like his dwarf would train with Fíli and Kíli, and the few times Bilbo saw Glóin’s Soul Gamz it was when the boar and dog sparred with each other while the two dwarves clashed axes, much to the entertainment of the others. When he wasn’t doing any of the aforementioned things, he could often be found at Balin’s side for a nap or when he was annoyed with the younger son of Fundin.
It was Dwalin’s dog that approached him while the rest of the company had gone into the troll cave. The soul animal sat down next to the log Bilbo had chosen as his seat, wagging his tail and putting his big head on Bilbo’s leg. Though Bilbo never touched the soul animals, Thorin’s wolf and Dwalin’s dog had no such reservations. “Not interested in looking at the treasure?” Bilbo asked him quietly and smiled when he got a huff in response. “Me neither. Even I can barely stand the stench, I don’t know how the Sentinels do it. Shouldn’t you be in there to help Dwalin balance his senses?”
The dog gave him a look and huffed again. He was eying the piece of jerky Bilbo had pulled from his bag. Making sure everyone was still in the cave and likely not listening to what was going on outside, Bilbo leaned closer to the Soul and asked quietly, “Do you guys need to eat?” He hadn’t seen any of them do so, but that didn’t rule it out entirely.
Dwalin’s soul animal gave him another unimpressed look and sneezed. Bilbo took that as a no. “Can you eat? And if so, do you want to eat something?”
The dog licked its flews and gave Bilbo puppy eyes. Chuckling, Bilbo tore his jerky in two and offered it to him. He had no idea how it worked, but Dwalin’s Soul gobbled up the meat and gave Bilbo a toothy smile, tongue lolling out. Bilbo put a finger on his lips and winked. “That’ll be our little secret.” When the dog huffed, Bilbo amended, “Of course you can tell Thorin’s wolf.”
As if Bilbo had summoned him, Thorin’s soul animal came out of the troll cave, took in the sight of Bilbo and the dog, and trotted over. Then he quite theatrically collapsed against Bilbo’s other side with a whine and put his head on Bilbo’s leg. He tried to nudge Dwalin’s Soul away, but he refused. With a growl, the wolf snapped at the dog’s snout and while that had been quite frightening the first few times, by now Bilbo was more than used to their behaviour.
“No need to be jealous,” he told the wolf, who glared at him and bared his teeth as if to say that he wasn’t. In that moment he looked so much like his Sentinel that Bilbo couldn’t help but chuckle. “Here, you can have the other half.”
The wolf, in his eagerness to get the rest of the jerky, ended up licking over Bilbo’s hand and though it felt wet, his hand was dry. “I can’t keep calling you ‘Dwalin’s dog’ and ‘Thorin’s wolf’ in my head,” he said with a sigh. The two canines pricked their ears and looked at him; both their tails were wagging now. “I’m going to give you nicknames. I’m sure your dwarves wouldn’t be happy about that if they knew, but there’s no reason for them to find out.”
Bilbo tapped his chin and regarded each Soul closely. “I doubt you’d be pleased with simply Faol and Cù, am I right?” From what the others had told him, the soul animals were able to understand every language, something about them being from the spirit plane, so Thorin’s wolf and Dwalin’s dog would know the meaning of those two words. Neither looked enthused about being named ‘wolf’ and ‘dog’. “What about Crosta for you, hm? No?” Bilbo laughed when Thorin’s wolf glared at him and bared his teeth. “But you are just as grumpy as your dwarf! Alright, alright. No need to growl at me.”
Dwalin’s dog bit into one of the wolf’s ears. Thorin’s wolf snarled at the other Soul, then turned back to Bilbo and licked his fingers in apology. Both soul animals were solid, but Bilbo was thankful they didn’t leave slobber all over him. “Liath would fit either of you because you both have blue eyes, just like your dwarves.” Very beautiful and very bright, almost like lanterns. Their black coats only made them stand out even more.
This was far more difficult than he had expected.
Finally, after looking at the two Souls for a while, he had an idea. “I’m going to call you Dìleas2”, he said to Dwalin’s dog, then to Thorin’s wolf, “and you, Rìoghail3.”
Dìleas gave a little woof and stretched his front legs out in front of him, chest low near the ground but rear up, like he was bowing. His tail was wagging even harder than before. Rìoghail for his part looked very pleased with the name and pressed his snout against Bilbo’s belly. Chuckling, Bilbo gave into the temptation and petted him behind the ears. The wolf seemed to like it, if his (very warm) sigh was any indication.
The three of them stayed like this for a few more minutes before Rìoghail’s ears twitched and he withdrew. The two Souls turned towards the cave, then began to shimmer and disappeared just as Gandalf stepped out into the clearing again with a sword and a dagger in his hands.
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“Oh, hello. Shouldn’t you be with Thorin?” Bilbo paused. “Not that I’m not happy to see you.”
Rìoghail shot him an unimpressed look and huffed. Even without speaking or any kind of connection between the two, like a Sentinel or Guide had with their Soul, Bilbo got the distinct impression that the wolf wasn’t pleased.
“It’s not my fault I fell down”, Bilbo said. At least he had landed somewhat softly on a cluster of mushrooms. In any other situation, he would have been very happy about them, but right now he was more worried about the goblin he had wrestled with before falling off the cliff.
Rìoghail huffed again, came closer, and nudged Bilbo’s leg with his snout.
“Do you think you can lead me out of here and back to the others?” Bilbo asked him quietly.
The wolf suddenly cocked its head to the side, eerily similar to what Sentinels did when they were listening to something, and Bilbo fell silent. After a heartbeat, Rìoghail lay his ears flat against his head, growled, and nudged Bilbo back. Surprised by the urgency in the wolf’s actions, Bilbo did as he was bidden without question and hid behind the mushrooms.
Some kind of creature came out of the darkness, crawling on all fours and muttering to itself. When it coughed, the sound echoed from the walls, getting louder and louder until Bilbo’s ears were ringing with “Gollum, Gollum”. It was not a goblin, that much was certain, but Bilbo had no idea what else it could have been. The thing—for lack of a better word, Bilbo decided to name it Gollum, after the hideous choking sound it had made before—circled the downed goblin like a predator did with its prey and though it was both smaller and frailer than the goblin, Bilbo had no doubt that it—he?—was dangerous.
Surprisingly strong, too, or else he would not have been able to drag his victim by its feet. Bilbo almost pitied the goblin, even though it had tried to kill him minutes ago; whatever this Gollum had in mind with it, it probably wasn’t anything pleasant.
Abruptly the goblin surged up and grabbed for Gollum, but the strange creature picked up a nearby rock and began bashing in the goblin’s head with it. Bilbo held his breath and blindly reached for Rìoghail, burying his fingers in the wolf’s soft fur. Rìoghail made no sound but pressed closer.
The goblin fell back down, either unconscious or dead Bilbo couldn’t tell, and Gollum picked it up by its feet again, dragging it off somewhere. His voice echoed, a hissing sound that sent shivers down Bilbo’s spine and made Rìoghail’s fur stand up. “Nasty goblinses. Better than old bones, precious. Better than nothing!”
Bilbo waited until he could no longer hear the creature and climbed out of the mushroom patch, Rìoghail right behind him. Bending down, Bilbo picked up his sword. It was still glowing blue, so either the goblin was alive or others were closer than he’d like. He was just about to straighten up again when something caught his eye. Curious, Bilbo looked and saw a golden? ring lying on the ground. Could the goblin have lost it? For some reason Bilbo doubted that they cared for jewellery any more than hobbits did, but maybe it had looted it off someone, just like they had taken all the dwarves’ weapons and even poor Óin’s horn.
“How strange,” Bilbo murmured and reached out. His fingers barely touched the metal when a growl came from Bilbo’s right. Pausing, he turned his head and stared at the Soul next to him. “What is it?” He could barely hear himself speak but he also didn’t want to risk catching Gollum’s attention.
Rìoghail stalked forward and pushed Bilbo’s hand away with his whole body. Frowning, Bilbo let the wolf nudge him away from the ring and back towards the mushroom patch he had landed on. “Ciùin, a Rìoghail4”, Bilbo whispered and petted the Soul’s head. “It’s only a ring.”
He’d never seen any of the soul animals react this strongly and negatively to something, especially not something so innocuous as a simple ring.
When he tried to get around Rìoghail to take another look, the wolf whined quietly and nudged him once more, but this time Bilbo ignored him. He bent down again but he should really have expected Rìoghail not to give up so easily, given that he was just as stubborn as his Sentinel. With another growl, the wolf bit into Bilbo’s coat and pulled. It was enough to bring Bilbo out of balance and it was only thanks to Rìoghail’s solid weight that he didn’t end up falling.
“Would you stop already”, Bilbo hissed at the wolf, who gave him an unimpressed look and continued tugging.
A moan echoed through the tunnel.
Both Bilbo and Rìoghail froze. Some kind of impulse Bilbo would not have been able to explain made him pick up the ring while the Soul was distracted and put it into his pocket.
“Do you think he knows the way out?” Bilbo asked the wolf. Rìoghail growled. “I don’t like the idea either but unlike you I can’t just dematerialise and show up again at will.”
With a huff, Rìoghail did just that. Bilbo rolled his eyes. “You’re worse than your dwarf”, he quietly said into the silence around him, but Rìoghail probably didn’t hear it anymore.
Tightening his grip around his little sword, Bilbo cautiously made his way forward, following the echo and Gollum’s voice.
Though he had expected Rìoghail to stay away out of stubbornness, the wolf surprised him by shimmering back into existence just as Bilbo was about to turn the corner. Bilbo gave him a look but said nothing and continued sneaking closer.
What followed was the most bizarre experience in all of Bilbo’s life. If a riddle game with some strange kind of creature wasn’t weird enough already, Gollum did not seem to notice Rìoghail’s presence. Several times the wolf had growled, snarled, and snapped towards Gollum, but he hadn’t reacted at all. It was as if Rìoghail hadn’t even been there. Could Souls make themselves invisible to certain people but not others? Bilbo vowed to ask Ori, provided he ever made it out of this thrice forsaken cave alive, which seemed less and less likely the longer Gollum chased after him.
“A Mhàthair5, preserve me”, Bilbo panted and half-collapsed against a large boulder. Somewhere behind him, Gollum was cursing his name, roaring and howling.
Rìoghail tugged on Bilbo’s coat with his teeth and growled. Right, Bilbo should probably continue running.
“Give it to us!”
Panicking, Bilbo jumped into the first opening he saw and pressed his back against the stones behind him, staring at the entrance he had just come through and readying his sword. But miraculously, Gollum did not see him—he crawled right past Bilbo’s hideout and out of sight. Hesitating but for a second, Bilbo ran over to a large crack in the wall, Rìoghail hot on his heels, and tried to squeeze through. He made it halfway before he suddenly got stuck. Bilbo froze, looked down at his shirt buttons, and then back to the corridor.
Gollum crawled towards him, wide eyes burning with hatred and anger, and bared what little teeth he had left in a snarl. “It’s ours! It’s ours!”
Rìoghail leapt at the creature. Gollum stumbled back and wildly looked around, trying to shake off whatever it was that was attacking him. “Lost, he says, Baggins is lost, he says!” Gollum shrieked. His arms flailed about but he apparently could still not see the wolf. “Not alone, no precious, not alone! It wears it, our precious, it uses it against us! It tricks us! Gollum! Gollum!”
Out of sheer luck, one of Gollum’s punches hit Rìoghail hard enough to send the wolf flying. Soul animals, Bofur had told him during their stay in Rivendell, could not be injured or killed. They simply returned to the spirit plane if low on energy and would come back once they had recovered. Strong Gollum might have been, especially for someone so small and thin, but Rìoghail had fought against greater foes before. Snarling, the wolf surged forward again, burying his teeth in Gollum’s leg. Gollum shrieked.
Shaking off his shock, Bilbo forced himself to exhale and pushed. His brass buttons ripped off his waistcoat and rained down on the two combatants, but Bilbo neither paused nor looked back, running as fast as he could, panting from both exertion and panic. His heart was beating hard against his ribs.
He heard Gollum scream again and hoped that Rìoghail was alright. That moment of distraction was enough—Bilbo didn’t watch his steps and tripped on something. Breath knocked from his lungs, Bilbo landed on his back.
The ring flew out of his hand. Reaching upward, Bilbo tried to catch it, but he couldn’t get a good grip. As if guided by an unseen force or incredible luck, the ring slipped onto Bilbo’s finger.
Not even a moment later, Gollum jumped through the crack in the wall. Bilbo braced himself and grasped the hilt of his little knife.
He watched, perplexed, as Gollum spun around in circles. Though the creature’s eyes fell on Bilbo more than once, he did not seem to see him. Careful not to make any noise, Bilbo slowly sat up and looked around.
Everything had become blurry. It was as if all the colours, all light, had been sucked away. When Gollum moved, impressions of a sort trailed behind him, like he had doubled or even tripled, and when he shouted “Thief! Baggins!” his voice was muffled and distorted. Gollum ran off and Bilbo hastened to follow in the hopes of spotting some kind of exit or hint of the others.
He didn’t have to wait for long.
Together with Gollum, Bilbo watched first Gandalf, then one, two, three… seven dwarves run past the tunnel. Their voices, just like Gollum’s, were strangely muted.
Bilbo hesitated. Only Gollum stood in the way between him and his friends. Invisible as he seemed to be, it would be easy for Bilbo to strike the creature down and he got as far as lifting his sword before something stayed his hand. Gollum looked… pitiful. Bilbo paused and stared at him. He could almost feel the creature’s distress over losing his ‘precious’. Rìoghail would likely have urged him to eliminate any and all kinds of threats, especially those who had tried to kill or eat him, but…
He simply couldn’t.
Bilbo put his sword away again.
“Rìoghail”, he whispered. He hadn’t seen the wolf since squeezing through the crack in the wall and hoped that the Soul was either listening or had gone back to the others. Gollum froze and looked around frantically. “Leumaidh mi a-nist6.“
Bilbo took a step back. Before Gollum could do anything other than snarl, Bilbo ran forward and jumped over the miserable wretch. Without another look back, Bilbo fled in the direction the others had gone.
Behind him, Gollum screamed, “Baggins! Thief! Curse it and crush it, we hates it forever!“
An almost hysterical laugh bubbled from Bilbo’s lips.
He ran and ran, trusting his instincts and the Green Lady’s guidance to lead his steps in the right direction. Luck was on his side. It didn’t take him long to hear Gandalf’s voice. “Where is our hobbit?“
Bilbo stopped and bent down, trying to catch his breath.
“Rìoghail?” he gasped out but received no answer. Maybe the wolf had gone to Thorin or Dwalin?
He straightened up again and walked towards the rest of the company.
“Curse the halfling! Now he's lost!” There was something odd about Dwalin’s tone, but Bilbo couldn’t put a finger on it.
“I thought he was with Kíli!” Glóin and the other Sentinels really should have noticed him by now, unless they were too distracted to listen to their senses.
“Don't blame me!”
“Well, where did you last see him?” Gandalf asked.
“I think I saw him slip away when they first cornered us,” Óin replied.
“What happened exactly? Tell me!” Bilbo had never heard the wizard so panicked before.
“I'll tell you what happened,” Thorin said, voice almost a growl. “Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it. He's thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door. We will not be seeing our hobbit again. He is long gone.”
Had Rìoghail not told him what had transpired down in Gollum’s cave? Maybe the Soul had been so badly wounded that he had retreated to the spirit plane? Bilbo couldn’t imagine that Gollum had been able to injure the wolf so seriously without even seeing him, but the creature had killed a goblin and spoken of eating them (like he had planned with Bilbo himself…), so maybe Bilbo shouldn’t underestimate him.
Bilbo stepped out from behind the free and met Bofur’s eyes, but the dwarf did not react.
It took Bilbo longer than it should have to realise he was still wearing the ring. He looked down at it and found himself almost reluctant to take it off. Frowning, Bilbo ducked behind the tree again. For some reason, he did not want any of them to know about it, so he made sure he was hidden before slipping it off and into his pocket. “No, he isn’t,” he said and stepped into the clearing.
Two blurry, dark shapes launched themselves at him. All Bilbo heard besides the air being knocked from his lungs (again) were a whine and a whimper, then he found himself on his back (again) and two tongues that felt wet but left nothing behind licked over his face. Even without all the black fur in his face, he would have been able to tell what, or rather who, had just toppled him over. He laughed and buried his fingers into Rìoghail’s and Dìleas’ coats.
“Bilbo!” came Nori’s, Bofur’s, Kilis, Fili’s, and Ori’s voices from somewhere outside of Bilbo’s vision.
“What in Mahal’s name…” That was Dwalin.
“Zann!” Thorin. Whatever or whoever ‘zan’ was.
Neither was probably happy about Bilbo cuddling with their soul animals.
It had been nice while it lasted, Bilbo thought and tried to get the wolf and dog off him. Naturally, neither moved. “Off, you great lumps of fur! Off!”
Finally, after much whining and unsuccessful attempts to dissuade him with puppy eyes, Bilbo managed to convince Rìoghail and Dìleas to let him up again. He brushed himself off and finally turned towards the others.
Everyone was staring at him. Including Gandalf.
Shuffling from one foot to the other, Bilbo refused to look at either Thorin or Dwalin and chose Gandalf as the least likely to explode at him. “Right. Thanks for wanting to search for me, Grey Traveller, but as you can see I’m right here. Shall we be going, then?”
Gandalf’s mouth was hanging open a little bit. Normally Bilbo would have relished in rendering the wizard speechless but the tension in the air was almost palpable and he really didn’t want it to boil over. Bilbo crossed his arms in front of his chest.
A cold snout poked his calf. Bilbo tilted his head down and raised an eyebrow at Dìleas, who did not seem the least bit interested in the strained atmosphere if his wagging tail was any indication. Seeing that he now had Bilbo’s attention, the dog nudged his hand until Bilbo gave in and scratched behind his ears. Several of the dwarves spluttered in shock or disbelief, Bilbo couldn’t quite tell. Despite the precariousness of the situation Bilbo found himself smiling. “Are you feeling jealous, hm? I don’t think Rìoghail enjoyed our little adventure much. I didn’t, that’s for sure.”
The wolf in question tried to push Dìleas away but the dog wouldn’t budge, so Rìoghail pressed his snout against Bilbo’s other hand until Bilbo also began petting him. Though Bilbo had expected it, neither Thorin nor Dwalin started screaming at him. He assumed that was only a matter of time.
“Bilbo Baggins,” Gandalf broke the silence. It seemed that he had recovered from his shock. “Hobbits really are amazing creatures. You can learn all that there is to know about their ways in a month, and yet after a hundred years they can still surprise you at a pinch.“
Bilbo didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so he said nothing and merely looked at the wizard impatiently, sorely tempted to tap his foot. He still refused to let his eyes wander towards any of the dwarves, who were far, far too silent for his liking.
“However did you manage to make it out of the mountain all by yourself?” Gandalf asked, his bushy eyebrows drawn together.
“Not by myself.” The sudden urge to reach into his pocket to make sure the ring was still there made Bilbo’s fingers twitch, but both Dìleas and Rìoghail grumbled unhappily when he stopped petting them so Bilbo hastened to continue. “Rìoghail helped me.”
“Rìoghail,” Gandalf repeated slowly. Bilbo could feel the stares of the rest of the company and tried to ignore them. “I assume you are referring to one of the two soul animals at your side?”
Bilbo raised an eyebrow. “No one told me their names and I thought it quite rude to call them ‘wolf’ and ‘dog’, so I gave them nicknames.”
“Nicknames,” Gandalf repeated. Bilbo thought about pointing out to him that it was rude to imitate other people but didn’t. “Am I right to assume that the wolf is Rìoghail?”
“Indeed.”
Somewhere to Bilbo’s left, safely out of his field of vision, someone repeated the name as if dazed. The pronunciation of whoever it was had been horrible, (not that Bilbo was going to tell them that.
“A fitting name,” Gandalf said with a nod. The corners of his mouth were slowly turning upwards and there was an inquisitive sparkle in his eyes. “What about the other?”
“Dìleas.”
Gandalf chuckled. “Also fitting! Have you interacted much with them before… Rìoghail helped you get out of the mountain?”
Bilbo’s eyes briefly flickered down to the two Souls and worried his lower lip between his teeth. “They approached me,” he said somewhat defensively. The wizard was grinning now, never a good sign.
“Have they now? How curious. Have any of the other—”
“By Mahal’s beard!” Dwalin interrupted. He sounded bewildered but not necessarily angry, but that could change in a heartbeat. “What is going o—”
Before Dwalin could continue speaking, loud howls came from somewhere far too close to them. Bilbo froze and reached for his little sword.
“Out of the frying pan,” he heard Thorin say. It was instinct to turn his head towards him. Thorin’s eyes were wide and had it been anyone else, Bilbo would have said that he appeared almost frightened.
“And into the fire. Run! Run!”
Rìoghail and Dìleas disappeared as the dwarves, wizard, and hobbit ran for their lives (again!).
----------
Time seemed to slow down when Thorin walked past Bilbo down the fallen log right towards a grinning Azog and his monstrous mount, bracketed on both sides by burning trees. He heard Dwalin shout as if from far away, but Thorin ignored his bonded’s call and picked up speed, snarling so loudly Bilbo could hear him despite the roaring of the flames and the pounding of Bilbo’s heart.
“He’s feral!” Balin shouted to his brother and when Bilbo glanced over to the tree the old dwarf was sitting in, there was fear in Balin’s eyes.
Feral. The dwarves had explained it to him once but describing was different from seeing and nothing could have prepared Bilbo for the sheer fury in Thorin’s face when the dwarf got back on his feet and whirled around to face Azog again. His teeth were bared and his expression wild, and in that moment Bilbo thought that he was more wolf than dwarf.
A feral Sentinel they did not strategize, they made no plan, and they did not think. Their every action was driven by instinct and even if wounded a feral Sentinel would not stop until the threat was eliminated… or the Sentinel dead.
Azog’s mace hit Thorin right in the chest, sending the dwarf onto his back with a cry of pain. Bilbo heard Dwalin call for his bonded and snap at someone, begging them to let him go but from the sound of it, whoever was holding him back would not relent.
The white warg bit down on Thorin and picked him up. Thorin screamed and tried to struggle free, but the warg locked its jaw and buried its dagger-sized teeth deeper into the dwarf’s chest. Bilbo almost feared the beast would kill Thorin right there but instead it tossed him aside almost carelessly. Thorin did not get back up again.
“No!” Dwalin shouted.
One of the orcs approached Thorin and Bilbo did not need to understand what Azog had said to know the creature’s intent.
“Thorin!”
The orc lifted its weapon, right over Thorin’s neck.
Without thinking, Bilbo jumped down the tree he was standing on with a cry and tackled the orc, the speed and surprise enough to make it lose its balance and fall, Bilbo right on top of it. Before the orc could even blink, Bilbo had brought his sword down and black blood shot from the deep cut in the orc’s neck. Bilbo scrambled back to his feet and held his sword out in front of him, staring wildly at the orcs and wargs that were slowly surrounding him.
He stood no chance against them. Killing the first orc had been lucky but they outnumbered him, he had no idea what he was doing, and Azog was leading his warg forward, the beast’s teeth dripping with blood—Thorin’s blood.
Something inside of Bilbo snapped.
There was a pop, simultaneously deafening and soundless. The ringing in his ears drowned out all the other noises and his vision became unfocused. Everything around him got blurry and hazy, kind of like he was wearing the ring he had found in Gollum’s cave. It was like he was expanding or turning into something that existed separately from his body. He was floating and dissipating, his mind spreading outwards far beyond the cliff they were on, and whenever he… brushed over one of the orcs they began to scream and wail, black blood running from their noses and ears.
Bilbo’s mind extended further, past Gandalf, who felt like an unfathomable expanse, and over the dwarves. He could sense their emotions, all their panic, worry, confusion, and fear. Even though he didn’t understand how, he was able to tell apart. Nori shone bright, even more so than Óin and Kíli. Bilbo saw the thief’s bond to Bofur, a pulsing sort of energy that connected the two. Ori compared to the awoken Guides like a candle to the sun, but Bilbo knew that Ori would awake soon and that once he did, he would be just as powerful. The Sentinels were more subdued but their emotions were louder, a cacophony of impressions that rained down on Bilbo and swept him away like waves in an ocean.
Before the already weak tether between Bilbo and his body could snap, something called out to him, broke through the noise, and flashed like a torch in the dark. Without knowing what he was doing, Bilbo fought against the onslaught, wading through it like one would through a raging river, and clung to the presence as if it was a rock peeking out from between the currents.
Suddenly he realised who it was.
Dwalin.
The rock—the light—was Dwalin.
Warmth flooded through Bilbo. It was like sinking into a bath that was just hot enough to take away all aches and tension. A little bit like coming home from a walking holiday, too, though instead of the scent of pie in the oven and a nice cup of tea welcoming him it was the smell of a forge, of metal, fire, and sweat. Bilbo felt Dwalin’s confusion but it was quickly replaced by something that almost felt like… almost like joy. Though Bilbo had no idea what was happening—what was happening to him—when the light that was Dwalin surrounded him and reached for him, he found himself automatically reaching back.
Bilbo was jolted back into his body with a gasp.
He swayed and only didn’t fall because of two solid weights to his left and right. Bilbo looked down and though his vision was still blurry, even worse now than before, he would have recognised Dìleas and Rìoghail anywhere. Burying his shaking fingers into their black fur, Bilbo forced himself to direct his attention back to the orcs surrounding them. Most of them had been knocked down; they were writhing and moaning on the ground, still bleeding and holding their heads. Some of the wargs hadn’t fared any better, but Azog and his mount were still standing, and even though Bilbo couldn’t get his eyes to focus enough to see them clearly, he knew that the pale orc was shaking off whatever… well, whatever Bilbo had done.
“Bilbo!” he heard someone behind him scream just as the white warg roared.
The ringing in Bilbo’s ears got louder. He tried to reach for his sword but found that he must have dropped it at some point. His muscles wouldn’t cooperate anyway. Azog and his warg tripled, three equally blurry shapes that sprung forward towards him.
A snarl, then Dìleas jumped between Bilbo and the warg. He was much smaller, but he knew how to use their size difference to his advantage. Dìleas lunged at the monster and buried his teeth into its throat. With a whine, the white warg bucked and tried to shake Dìleas off, but the dog’s bite was like steel, his jaws locked so tight none would be able to tear him away. He only let go when Azog swung his mace and immediately went for another attack, this time scrambling up the warg’s side to bite into Azog’s leg.
The Pale Orc’s pain hit Bilbo and made him stagger back.
Bilbo swayed and sunk to his knees. Rìoghail whimpered right into his ear and licked his face, but Bilbo didn’t even have the energy to turn his head towards the wolf. He fell forward into the dirt and his eyes closed on their own accord. He wasn’t sure whose panic he was feeling but that didn’t really matter anymore. Everything was distant, getting farther and farther away from him, and though he saw Dwalin’s light reach for him again, heard him shout without hearing, this time he didn’t have the strength to reach back.
Another wave of emotions crashed over him.
It was almost a blessing that he passed out.