Chapter Text
Bilba blinked, and found herself standing on the path outside Bag End.
Before her the road unspooled, running lazily down the hill and through the hedge. Beyond that she knew lay Bree, Rivendell, the Misty Mountains and, further still, Erebor.
Overhead the sky was crystal clear, marred only by a small handful of clouds grudgingly giving way to the coming of spring. The sun shone down merrily and a warm breeze rushed amongst the grass and flowers lining the sides of the path.
A clatter of pots and pans rang out from Bag End and she frowned in confusion.
Bag End should be empty. Alone and quiet, awaiting the return of its owners who constantly left it, never appreciating what they had until it was far, far behind them.
The door was closed but the window near the kitchen was open and it was from there the noises issued.
She hesitated and moved closer, stretching out a hand to open the gate.
A familiar laugh echoed from the open window and Bilba gasped. Her stomach clenched so hard it was as though she'd been physically punched.
She knew that laugh, though she had not heard it in decades.
Another voice sounded, responding, and this one she also knew. A young, childish voice shrieked suddenly, the noise quickly fading to giggles and her knees gave way, sending her crashing to the ground. Tears burned at the corner of her eyes as a wound she'd counted healed reopened.
"This isn't possible," She whispered. "What's going?"
"You are dying," a voice said behind her.
Bilba jerked and turned, falling as she did until she was seated against the gate.
The woman who stood before her was somehow both utterly familiar and a complete stranger at the same time.
She was tall and ethereal with pale green tinged skin and hair the color of the sun. She wore a shimmering gown and was adorned with flowers of all shapes and colors.
Bilba swallowed, clasping her hands in front of her. "Who are you?"
The woman stepped forward, her bare feet barely seeming to touch the ground, and knelt in front of her.
"I think you know. We've spoken before many times, though you do not remember all of them."
Bilba stared at her and then her eyes widened. Pushing a hand against the dirt she scrambled up and managed to somehow get herself into a kneeling position.
"My Lady Yavanna."
Yavanna laughed, the sound reminding Bilba of water rushing over rocks, and lightly touched her shoulders. "Rise, Bilba. There will be no bowing among friends I think."
Bilba sat up, her hands wrapped around her stomach. She opened her mouth to speak, when it suddenly registered that her stomach was perfectly flat. Fear spiked through her but Yavanna was already reaching out to lay a hand on her arm.
"Do not fear. Your children are safe. They are being born even now."
Bilba frowned, her mind struggling to remember. "I don't understand."
Yavanna studied her. "Do you not?"
Bilba shook her head. She went back in her mind, tracing her steps. The journey home had been long and tedious. They had done their best to avoid the worst of winter but her pregnancy symptoms had returned with a vengeance, often leaving her unable to eat for long stretches without throwing it up. Exhaustion, a backache that had grown worse week by week and other problems had plagued her,and slowed them. Multiple times they'd been forced to set up camp for days and even weeks at a time until the weather cleared enough to let them go or until her symptoms lessened to the point she could move again. Beorn, Valar bless him, had announced he would accompany them all the way to Rivendell. His presence meant she could stretch out on his back as opposed to trying to walk or sit astride a pony. Even with that small mercy, however, it had been a nightmare. She'd grown enormous, far bigger than anything she could possibly have imagined. By the time they'd arrived at Rivendell she'd been crying almost constantly in misery. There was no question of trying to reach the Shire. The elves had earned her eternal devotion by immediately setting up a room for her and providing her with nearly round the clock care and aid.
"Elrond," She whispered, his words running through her mind. "He was worried."
"You are but a small Hobbit," Yavanna said, "and your children were half dwarven."
And there were two of them. Elrond hadn't believed she could give birth to them naturally. He'd sent for aid, to Lothlorien and the Lady who dwelt there.
"It wasn't fast enough," Bilba said, her memory returning. "I went into labor. I couldn't deliver them."
"Forcing the elves to remove them another way," Yavanna said, "A most dangerous procedure."
"And apparently one that isn't going all that well." Bilba turned her attention behind her, hearing again the voices and laughter. "Inside Bag End, is that really--"
"It is," Yavanna answered, "And you may go into them if you wish."
Bilba's eyes narrowed, hearing the warning in the Valar's voice. "And if I do?"
"You will not be allowed to return."
"I don't understand," Bilba said. "How is it that I know you? How are we friends? Why am I even here?"
She thought, as she said it, she did have a small piece of the puzzle. There had been a woman's voice speaking in her head a few times, strongest when she had stood over Thorin's unconscious body and faced Azog. The voice had commanded then, ordering her to summon her friends, but it wasn't the first time she'd heard it, or the last.
"The Rangers," she said suddenly. "When I was younger and trying to find my way home." She looked up at the Valar, her eyes wide. "I heard a voice inside my head, guiding me, telling me where to go. I thought I was going mad, or perhaps it was somehow my mother trying to guide me, but it wasn't was it? It was you."
Yavanna didn't answer. Instead she shifted, her head tilted to one side as though listening to a voice of her own. A moment later she sighed and focused back on Bilba. "There is much I cannot yet explain, Bilba, and I'm afraid our time here grows short. I have come to offer you a choice."
"What choice?" Bilba asked in confusion.
"The path that lays before you is dark," Yavanna said, her voice grave. "Darker than anything you have yet faced. If you walk down it you will be changed, forever."
"I don't understand," Bilba repeated. "I'm just going home. I just want to raise my children in peace."
The look on Yavanna's face was compassionate. "Peace is something you may yet achieve. It is a long way off, however, and you will suffer much in the seeking."
Bilba swallowed. Behind her she suddenly heard new voices speaking from within Bag End. They were familiar but so quiet and muffled she could not place who they were.
"I have asked my Father for permission to take this path from you," Yavanna stated, catching her attention once more, 'And he has granted it. If you wish it, you may choose to die now and lay aside your fate."
Bilba studied her feet. "What about my sons?"
"They will survive without you." There was a sadness in Yavanna's voice as she spoke, a resignation as though she already knew the answer to the question she hadn't yet asked. "What is your choice?"
Bilba cast a longing look over her shoulder toward Bag End. Her heart cried out to her to run to the door, throw it open and rush inside. "You tell me there is no peace in my future," Bilba said, her head still turned away. She swallowed and shut her eyes as a wave of pain and grief rushed through her. She swallowed and turned to face Yavanna, lifting her head as she did. "How could I leave my children to face such a world alone?"
The voices from Bag End stopped.
As Bilba watched, the world around her grew dim and faded. A few moments later she found herself standing in a white void.
Yavanna stepped forward and knelt, taking Bilba's hand in her own. Her eyes, Bilba noted, held a fierce pride...and also a deep grief.
"I confess," Yavanna said, her voice saddened, "I fear how this journey will change you."
Bilba forced a smile. "I will do my best to remain the same, my Lady."
Yavanna smiled. "I am sure you will." She lifted a hand and laid it gently on the top of Bilba's head. "You will not remember this when you awaken but you will feel it in your heart. I will be watching over you, Bilba, as much as I am able, until this road is done."
"You have watched over me so much already," BIlba said, "And I have done nothing to deserve it. Thank you."
With that she was gone, leaving Yavanna standing alone in the void.
"Travel well, my child," she whispered after the small Hobbit. "Until we meet again."
And then she was gone and, for the briefest of instances, the world stood silent, hushed as though a great multitude had drawn in its breath and held it.
Waiting.