i write stuff

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Will someone please teach Bilbo to defend himself

As much as she hated being back, Rivendell held a certain magic to it. Even now, as cold midnight air flew over the gardens, it felt peaceful. The entirety of Middle-Earth could be at war and you wouldn’t be able to tell it from here.

She had returned to her chambers shortly after her talk with Kili, needing some time to cool off. Perhaps she had overreacted. He was right to question her, but part of her was reluctant to share too much about herself. Especially considering his kin was the one who had made her life the hell it was. But Kili did not deserve the anger she had directed towards another.

Farris had visited Raewyn’s balcony once before taking off for the rest of the night. This was customary for them. Owls were, after all, night animals.

Peaceful as it was, the Asha could not find rest that night. So much was wrong. She shouldn’t have left for the Shire, and she most certainly should not be here. Frustrations and doubt kept her off. She must have spent at least an hour tossing and turning before finally jumping off of her bed. Maybe a midnight walk would clear her mind.

It came as no surprise to her that most halls and gardens were deserted around this time. A handful of elves stood watch at the gates, but most of them had long returned to their chambers. Even the singing, laughing and belching of the dwarves could no longer be heard. Perhaps they finally decided they would need time to rest too.

As if it was natural, her feet led her to the main hall, where Elrond had led the company to the dining area only hours prior. It would always be a rare sight to see a hall as such completely void of life at night. Candles were still lit, but no voices nor music could be heard. No sound, but the soft patting of footsteps.

But not hers.

Turning towards the source of the noise, she found Bilbo entering the hall from the south entrance, across from her. A slight smile built on Raewyn’s face as she saw him.

“You should be sleeping.”

“As should you.”

She sniffled at that, turning around to face Bilbo. “Ranger,” She stated. “Never truly asleep.” 

He nodded at her words, staring around the room as if he was lost. Raewyn followed his eyes for a short second.

“What are you doing up?” She wondered. Bilbo didn’t answer her immediately. Instead, his eyes slowly met her, before wandering around again.

“I’ve been told of this place ever since I was a child,” He began. “Being here…it doesn’t feel real.”

She didn’t really have a response to that. She didn’t grow up on tales about kingdoms and houses, except for when it was of a concern to her family. She hadn’t even heard of Imladris until Gandalf had taken her there. She couldn’t place herself in Bilbo’s shoes. 

And thus, instead of faking sympathy and agreement, she turned back to her earlier path, looking behind her to nudge her friend. “Walk with me.”

Wordlessly, Bilbo followed, his mouth half open as he took in all the sights, no unoccupied by its inhabitants. Even in the dark, Rivendell managed to take his breath. Raewyn seemed to know her way around surprisingly well for someone  who claimed she had lived on the road. Then he recalled her earlier words.

“You grew up here?”

“No,” The Asha laughed gently. “Gandalf took me here after he took me in. He wanted me to stay, but I wouldn’t have it.”

His interest grew with every word she spoke. So when she halted over only two sentences, he wouldn’t have it: “How old were you?” “Too young to be on my own. Though, I didn’t think so at the time.” 

That managed to get a laugh out of Bilbo. Of course she’d be as stubborn as a child as she is now. Raewyn appreciated his humour. 

“My family raised me with important values. One of which; hierarchy is about control, not order. We didn’t take kindly to monarchs or rulers. You can imagine my disappointment when Gandalf took me to Rivendell and told me to address a stranger as ‘lord’.” 

As she spoke, Bilbo noticed a figure lingering above them, blending in with the night, though not enough to not let him know he was being watched. When he was about to comment on it, he noticed the creature swoop down into the tall grass below. Naturally, Farris was watching over her companion. 

“Is that why you didn’t want to be here?” He asked uncomfortably, trying to keep on subject. 

“I don’t like people telling me what to do.” 

Once more, he laughed.

“Don’t laugh!” She scolded with a smile, before resuming. “Gandalf has learned to adapt to it. We’re equals. We don’t expect the other to obey us. It’s based on mutual trust and respect. It’s why he can talk to me the way he does.”

“Ah,” The hobbit nodded. “And lord Elrond doesn’t?” “Elrond is a lord. It is expected you respect him, regardless of how well you know him.” 

She was correct, Bilbo’d give her that. It didn’t mean it wasn’t right, but he was wise to keep his words to himself.

“I’ll be fair, he gave a good effort for us to be friends, it simply felt forced.” Raewyn continued before her friend could say something stupid. “It felt false and almost degrading. I was treated as a child who just learned to speak her first words. I’m sure he didn’t - and still doesn’t - mean to sound like that, but conversations with him were too difficult for me. I couldn’t stay in a place where I had to walk on eggshells every time I engaged with an elf.” 

That, he could imagine. Once more, he simply nodded in understanding and intrigue. She took it as her sign to continue; “Gandalf took me with him on his travels only days later. We’d return from time to time, but only for brief stops. He knew I hated it here. As I said, mutual respect.”

A shrug came from her as she halted on one of the upper gardens, overlooking most of the elven kingdom. For a while, it was silent. Bilbo was still marvelling at the sight, whilst Raewyn was off in her thoughts. She didn’t come back down until her friend called her.

“Raewyn?” 

It was the first time she heard her true name from his mouth. She tried to conceal her surprise, but seemed to fail once Bilbo elaborated; “That’s your name, right? I heard lord Elrond call you that.”

“It is.” She spoke. “Tolmiró is a name to keep myself safe.”

He was trustworthy enough.

“It suits you.” He tried to compliment. She could see through him.

“What’s wrong, Bilbo?”

Hesitantly, Bilbo reached for the blade on his hip. “Gandalf gave me this.”

“Clever of him. You should be able to defend yourself.” Raewyn hummed, taking the shortsword from him and inspecting it.

“Yes, well, that’s the thing. I have never held a blade in my life. I don’t know how to wield it.”

“Easy, stick it with the pointy end.”

“Ha ha,” He scoffed as his weapon was returned. “Could you help?”

The two fell silent again. Bilbo almost shrank under the Asha’s contemplating look. Perhaps he was too weak to be taught. He was stupid to ask her.

“Your opponents will always be larger than you,” She suddenly cut through his doubts.

Furrowing his eyebrows together, he uttered a meek “alright”.

“Assume the worst. Assume someone twice your size. That way, it can never be too bad. Confidence is half your work. You should never wield a weapon in fear. Never.” She spoke her last words so firmly, he didn’t dare forget it, nor question it.

“You’ll make stupid decisions,” She informed nonetheless. “And you’ll likely die.”

“Noted.”

“Furthermore, your weapon isn’t an object. It’s your arm. When you’re holding this, you’re not holding a sword, you’re extending your arm. You cannot drop your arm.”

“That’s a charming metaphor.” Bilbo mumbled, swinging the blade loosely in his arm, away from Raewyn.

“Fighting is mostly done with mind and calculations. Stupid people rule, they don’t fight.” Again, not sure he agreed, but he could see it from her perspective.

“Drop the blade.”

“You just told me I can’t.” The hobbit squawked out.

“And now I’m telling you you can.” 

Before he could even try to sheathe his weapon, he found himself on the floor.

“Hey!”

“We’ll start with defence. Get back up.” Raewyn commanded. Bilbo left his weapon for what it was and pushed himself back on his feet. Then, before he could even realize it, he was back on the floor again.

“Stop it.” 

“Stop falling.”

A huff came from him as he looked up at the ranger, who was looming over him. “You’re stronger than me.”

“Assume the worst, Bilbo,” She reminded him. “You’re gonna defeat your enemy lying on the floor? Get up.”

Sighing, he got back up. He tried to steady his feet, but when rough hands pushed against his chest once more, he could do nothing but let gravity work its magic.

“Will you-“

“Up.”

“Stay back.” He begged, to which the ranger easily complied. Now having his room, the hobbit rose again.

And he fell again.

“Raewyn!”

“Up.”

She was smiling now. Only seconds ago he’d become excited once Raewyn offered him advice. Now, he truly wished he hadn’t asked.

Be that as it may, he carried himself up, shaking his arms lightly. It was futile of course. He was back down as quick as he’d gotten up

“Up.”

“Give me a second.” He huffed out.

Again, he rose and fell.

“Up.” 

This time, Bilbo didn’t comment, nor listen.

“Get back up.” Raewyn repeated, now more urgent.

“Will you just let me catch my breath?”

“Lesson one; don’t ever stop coming back up,” She scolded. “If you do, you’re dead. You get kicked down, you get back up. Always.” The urgency in her voice caught his attention. “Up.” 

And thus, with much reluctance, he stood back up. Raewyn stepped forward, her hands out, ready to shove him again. Only this time, Bilbo stepped aside, letting the ranger pass him. A satisfied ‘ah’ came from her, as if she had finally found a light switch.

Caught up in his victory, the hobbit didn’t see the foot swinging underneath his legs. Not until his back collided with the floor. Before she speak, he waved her off.

“Yeah, yeah. Up.”

Back on his feet, he repeated his tactic, succeeding once more. Then, he countered himself, trying to give Raewyn a shove. She easily dodged him.

“Defence, Bilbo. Not offence. If you do,” Her hands found his arm, bracing herself as she lifted the hobbit over her back and shoulder, onto the floor. “This happens.”

“Ow,”

“Up.”

“Am I gonna get any tips?” He sighed, heaving himself up.

“You’re clever enough.”

Shove, dodge, shove down again.

“You’re always the smaller fighter. Why?” She reminded him.

“Assume the worst.”

“Good,” She complimented. “Your stance won’t save you. Anyone could pick you up and throw you over their shoulder. It’s about dexterity, not strength. Don’t give them the chance to reach you.”

“So, your advice is run?”

“No.”

“What?”

Subconsciously, almost as if it had already become a habit, Bilbo found him back on his feet as he finished his question. He repeated the dodging, both of the shove and the tackle. When Raewyn reached out again, Bilbo duck down and ran to her other side.

“Like that.” She grinned.

“This is futile. We’ll keep doing this for hours.”

“Exactly.” Raewyn agreed. “The only thing you’re doing is dodging blows. I have to use strength to wield a weapon, advance towards you, miss, dislodge my weapon, and repeat the same procedure.”

And suddenly, the lights went on in his head. A tiny smile climbed atop his face as his eyes met Raewyn’s.

“I’m tiring you out.”

With new-found energy and determination, Bilbo and Raewyn managed to play this game for another hour, before the hobbit ultimately gave up in exhaustion. His freshly washed clothes were now covered with dirt and grass, whilst Raewyn still managed to look completely unscathed in her dress.

As compensation, she offered to walk him to his chambers. An offer he gladly accepted. Both out of companionship and because he had no idea where Raewyn had walked him to, nor where his chambers were.

“How do I hold my blade?” He asked, cutting through the silence. It was the question he had most wanted an answer too, but all she taught him was knowledge behind arms and how to not fall over.

“All in due time.” Raewyn answered honestly. “Once you can stand against me for an hour without falling, I’ll teach you.”

“An hour?” Bilbo repeated incredulously.

“Attacks need to be placed precisely. One miss and you’re at a disadvantage. Trust me, dodging and keeping on your feet is the best tactic you have now.”

“Raewyn, when will you train me?” He asked exasperately. “We’re constantly travelling.”

“Every day. Until our quest is over.”

“What if I have to fight tomorrow?”

“You won’t. Not while I’m around.” She returned quickly, halting her steps. At first, Bilbo thought he’d be getting his speech, but once he noticed the door, he realized they had arrived. “If you want to learn to use your blade now, ask someone else. This is what I was taught. This works.” 

Ah yes, habits, rituals, circles, conservatism - this was how he knew Raewyn. Part of him understood that she wanted to keep her methods to honour her clan, which was in one way beautiful. But it also made her more stubborn than all thirteen dwarves combined.

He respected it, though.

“Please, get some rest, Bilbo. Thorin will want to leave at first light.” She gently offered, placing a reassuring arm on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Raewyn. For this entire evening.”

She smiled at him, turning around with a brief wave as he opened the door.

“Any time.”