Work Text:
In the Last Homely House, something wonderful was happening. For the first time in Ages, the four members of Middle Earth were drinking and laughing and being merry, which is no small feat just so you know.
Lord Elrond, the master of this Homely House, was hosting a company of Dwarves, a wizard in the shape of a Man, and one lone Hobbit, Mister Bilbo Baggins of Bag End. At first, the dwarves were not very impressed with Lord Elrond’s hospitality, mainly because of the Elves’ snooty airs and the lack of meat at the dinner table. But, if there is one thing Dwarves and Elves can share appreciation for, it’s good alcohol. Once the wine and mead got flowing, laughter, music, and merriment filled the airy halls of Rivendell.
The Elves were gracious hosts and showcased proper Elven music, of the Noldor variety in particular. Then, once the cups began to empty, started playing the much more well received Sindar ballads, for if there is one thing that blasted King of the Woodland Realm did better then his Noldor neighbours, it’s knowing how to throw a good party and make music that got it’s guests to get up and dance.
(This is something the company of Dwarves and the lone Hobbit will observe later in their journey, but that is a tale for another time.)
Not to be outshone, Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of the Dwarves, waved his great ringed hand and with a woop the dwarves all pulled out their own instruments and began to showcase the might of Dwarven merriment.
Lord Elrond just sat back, enjoying his wine as he watched the dwarves jig, his elves twirl under the stars, and the wizard and hobbit laughing and cheering them on beside him. His heart was full, for it had been a long time since his halls had echoed with laughter, and a longer time still since he had seen his own two sons leave behind their burdens to dance and laugh together like they once did with their late mother.
When the two young Dwarven princes finished their, rather bawdy, song about a busty young barmaid, Lord Elrond clapped and bent down to his small Hobbit guest.
“Mister Baggins, I do hope you’ll indulge me in a small request. Tonight we have heard many tales and songs from both Elven and Dwarven kind, and I might hope to hear a Hobbit song before the night is over. Your dearest mother Belladonna Took had once graced my halls with her songs, and I wish that you can continue on that legacy.”
Bilbo flushed, both with pride and a tad too much wine. “Oh! Well, well I would be honoured, Lord Elrond! My mother was a fine singer, she was always a delight to have at weddings and festivals, I assure you!” He looked a little flustered and began to fiddle with the buttons on his sleeves. “I’m afraid I don’t quite have her vocal talent, but if his Lord requests I’ll try my best! Oh, dear, now what to sing?”
He fretted for a few moments before the youngest Dwarven prince called out, “Sing us a tale of adventure!”
His blond brother elbowed him in the side, “We have adventure enough as it is, sing us something fun!”
Lord Glorfindel gave a hearty laugh, “Sing a song of love! Nothing is more adventurous and fun than love!” The Dwarves all heckled him for being sappy, and Erestor’s ears pinked as he rolled his eyes at his husband’s blant romanticism.
Bilbo nodded to himself, “Yes, yes I think a love song will do quite well, I have just the song too. Normally us Hobbits prefer songs of food or home, but we do have a few songs of love and adventure. This one I’m about to sing is an old song. It is still sung with bits of old Hobbitish in it as well, but it’s a favourite of ours, something we carried with us from before the Great Migration.”
The young Dwarven scribe scrambled for the paper and quill he kept in his coat pocket. “A Hobbit migration? So you weren’t always in the Shire?”
“Of course not! Us Hobbits were first grown in the area between the Misty Mountains and the Great Greenwood! But then Moria fell and the old Woodland King died and well, it just wasn’t that safe anymore. So we packed up and traveled over the mountains and the Green Lady led us to the Shire.” He thumbed his suspenders as he told this tale, chuffed as he saw he had the entire hall’s attention.
As he had lived for several ages, Elrond knew there was some truth to the Hobbit’s statement. When he was younger and had done some diplomatic visits to Greenwood the Great on behalf of his former King and dearest friend, Gil-Galad, Elrond had witnessed how covetously Oropher had guarded the Gladden Fields to the west of his realm, even if Elrond did not know why until now. Indeed, he had even remembered some of his scouts reports mentioning what looked to be evidence of great many mysterious peoples traveling past his realm of Rivendell, but no one had ever found any evidence of exactly who was travelling in such a large number, and with the focus towards his own growing family and warily watching the Men war with each other he had brushed those reports out of memory. He now wished he had paid more attention. Just another bullet point on his long list of regrets.
“This love song is something from before the Shire Reckoning,” Bilbo continued, not noticing Elrond’s spiralling thoughts, “And it’s changed a lot depending on who’s singing it, but this is the version my grandfather, Old Took, sang to me, and in my humble opinion, the right way to sing it!”
With that, the small Hobbit drained his wine goblet, slid down his large Tall Folk sized chair and walked to the centre of the gathering.
He cleared his throat, and began to stop his feet in a rhythmic pattern. He hummed an airy folk tune which Lindir quickly caught onto and began to strum on his harp. Not to be outdone, the young Dwarven princes pulled out their fiddles and played a simple melody to accompany the harp and stomping. It surprisingly sounded quite pleasing and joyful to the ear
Then Bilbo opened his mouth and began to sing:
“There’s an Elfin King lived in the west
Scowan ærla græ
There lived his lady in the east
Før yetter kan grøn orla
This King he has a hunting gone
Scowan ærla græ
And he’s left his lady all alone
Før yetter kan grøn orla”
Lord Elrond raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of wine. He didn’t expect Hobbits to sing songs of Elven kings and queens, but he did suppose if they lived next to the Wood Elves for so long, they must have picked up a tale or two. His sons began to sing the old Hobbitish lines along with Bilbo, making the small thing flush with delight at his song being well received.
“‘Oh I wish he’d never gone away!’
Scowan ærla græ
‘For at your home is dull and grey’
Før yetter kan grøn orla
For the Dark King with his dart
Scowan ærla græ
Has pierced your lady to the heart
Før yetter kan grøn orla
When the king came home at noon
Scowan ærla græ
He searched for his lady dear
Før yetter kan grøn orla
His nobles unto him did say:
Scowan ærla græ
‘My lady was wounded, now she's gone’
Før yetter kan grøn orla
Now they've taken her life from me
Scowan ærla græ
But her corpse they'll never have!
Før yetter kan grøn orla”
Both of Elrond’s eyebrows were at his hairline. This song seemed so familiar, he was sure he had heard something similar a long time ago, maybe during his childhood? He glanced around the hall and found that both Gandalf and Glrofindel were listening intently, both looking as puzzled as he was over this familiar sounding Hobbit song.
“Now away to the cliffs he's gone
Scowan ærla græ
And there he walked upon the stone
Før yetter kan grøn orla
Soon his heart was dull and grey
Scowan ærla græ
So he took out his harp to play
Før yetter kan grøn orla!”
As soon as Bilbo had sung the line about cliffs, Glorfindel leapt to his feet with laughter.
He startled the poor Hobbit a little, but once he saw that the Golden Lord was just merrily twirling on his feet he continued to sing. The Golden Lord of the First Age looked absolutely delighted, and Elrond could not think as to why? The song just told of a queen who had died and her poor husband rushing to save her corpse! It made a pit in his stomach form as he remembered his own late wife, and as he looked to his sons he saw they weren’t dancing nearly as joyfully as before, no doubt chilled by the mention of a Dark Lord stealing away a lady. But he didn’t have the heart to stop the song just yet, seeing Glorfindel and the Dwarves were enjoying the ballad too much.
“First he played the notes of noy
Scowan ærla græ
Then he played the notes of joy
Før yetter kan grøn orla
And then he played the good gabber reel
Scowan ærla græ
That would make a sick heart heal
Før yetter kan grøn orla
And he walked and sang for a year
Scowan ærla græ
Till a voice so sweet to him drew near
Før yetter kan grøn orla
And there in a tower on the cliffs
Scowan ærla græ
That his dearest lady sits
Før yetter kan grøn orla!”
Realization hit Elrond like an oliphant. This wasn’t a song about him or his lady, this sounded a lot like the tale of how the High King Fingon saved Elrond’s own foster father Maedhros. It was a well known tale, mostly told to boast about the courage of the former High King, it was especially popular when rumors began to float around that Gil-Galad was Fingon’s secret son. He felt a flush spread across his cheeks. No matter how many years had passed, it was still felt like taboo to hear mention of Maedhros’ secret love life, Maglor had sworn him and his brother to never mention the name Fingon within Maedhros’ hearing range, and then sang them songs of their star-crossed love whenever his other foster father was away.
Of course, other’s didn’t grow up with the “lady” mentioned in this tale, so he grew used to hear about the former High King, however, he had never heard the tale twisted into a love song, no matter how accurate it actually was.
Since his small guest had no idea how he made the earth fall out from beneath this lord’s feet, Bilbo continued to sing, his voice ringing out over the collection of Dwarven and Elvish voices that joined him in the repeated Hobbitish phrases.
“Below the tower there was a hall
Scowan ærla græ
Where the Dark King laughed at Elfin gall
Før yetter kan grøn orla
From out the hall there came a voice
Scowan ærla græ
‘Elfin King I’ll give a choice ’
Før yetter kan grøn orla
‘Now come you on into our hall’
Scowan ærla græ
‘And come you in among us all’
Før yetter kan grøn orla
Then he’s gone in, into their hall
Scowan ærla græ
And he’s gone in among them all
Før yetter kan grøn orla
So to the gods did he pray
Scowan ærla græ
And taken out his harp to play
Før yetter kan grøn orla!”
The entire hall was raptured by Bilbo’s song. The Hobbitish lines were always accompanied with an arrayment of voices, even Thorin Oakenshield himself seemed to smile at the Hobbit that twirled around and sang with his nephews. Glorfindel had even managed to pull Erestor into dancing with him, even if Rivendell’s chief councillor also seemed to know the subject matter of this Hobbit song, if the little worried glances shot in his Lord’s direction was any indication. His sons also still danced, but they had chosen a Dwarven dancing partner-- the rowdy one with the funny looking hat, who seemed quite chuffed to be dancing with two Elven Lordlings.
When Bilbo sang the next two phrases, the entire hall seemed to sing along with him.
“First he played the notes of noy
Scowan ærla græ
Then he played the notes of joy
Før yetter kan grøn orla
And then he played the good gabber reel
Scowan ærla græ
That would make a sick heart heal
Før yetter kan grøn orla
The Dark King to him did say
Scowan erla grae
‘What shall we give you for your play?’
Far yorten han grun orla
I only wish for my heart’s dear loss
Scowan ærla græ
And that’s my lady Maedhros
Før yetter kan grøn orla!”
At the name drop, all the Elves seemed to skip a beat, all except Glorfindel, who just gave the merriest laugh and twirled his husband, and Elrond, who felt his ears burning red as he sunk a little deeper into his chair. Lindir even missed a couple of notes in his surprise and Elladan and Elrohir froze to gape at their father. The Dwarves were not as blind as their Hobbit companion, and each of them had noticed the Elven shock and disquiet at the name drop. Elrond, from the corner of his eye, could spot Thorin Oakenshield get a calculating look behind his eyes as he turned to his white haired advisor.
Elrond turned his head away from the Dwarves, not wanting to acknowledge any weakness shown on his face, but that just turned his face towards the Grey Wizard. Gandalf seemed so amused with the Hobbit’s song of choice. The wizard met his glare and he gwaffed, eyes becoming soft crescents as he puffed on that damned pipe of his.
Bilbo, of course, did not notice his song’s effect on his hosts and finished his song.
“‘You take your lady and you go home’
Scowan ærla græ
‘And you’ll be king of all your own’
Før yetter kan grøn orla
He’s taken his lady and he’s gone home
Scowan ærla græ
And now he’s king of all his own
Før yetter kan grøn orla”
The hall erupted into cheers, making the small singer flush with pleasure. The Dwarves were especially loud, for any song that could cause Elves to lose their composure is a song well sung. Elrond's Elves still seemed a little shell shocked, and many were whispering amongst each other. Mithrandir, the dratted fool, just clapped along and leaned towards Elrond, mirthful.
“Aren’t Hobbit’s the most wondrous beings? I find they are the most skilled at finding things, especially things that are dearly missed.”
Elrond sighed, clapping politely along with the Wizard, watching as Glorfindel shook Bilbo's hand, laughing something about how his former Lord's brother would have loved to hear the Hobbit's song. Elrond didn’t know what games Mithrandir was playing at, and didn't want to play along, especially with the sharp eyed Dwarves within the room. “I don’t know if I’d call love songs between Kinslayers something as dearly missed.”
“Ah, but a song about two lovers triumphing over the Darkness? That is something that is often forgotten, and dearly needed.” He hummed, watching the Dwarves crowded around their Hobbit. His voice lowered a little, harder to hear over the din.“I think a song like that is something that needed to be found, especially now.”
Elrond felt a shadow in his heart at the Wizard’s words, he looked closer at the young Hobbit, at the way the Dwarven King looked at his smallest companion with a new gleam in his eye. The meaning of his guests' visit all too clear. Elrond suddenly felt all his years.
“I hope your Hobbit isn’t too good at finding lost things. Some things are better left unfound.”